"You're old-fashioned," Gabby smiled. "We aren't amateurs any more."
"And they come crying to me and taking it out on me, like Clarence.... Because you save it so hard you don't know what to do with it but lay on it."
"Shut up," Lennox growled.
"You must of got him plenty hot Saturday night, sister. You're so God damned glad he never touched me. You want to see how he touched me? I'll show you." Aimee stood up so violently that her chair toppled. She yanked up her skirt and displayed her naked behind, criss-crossed with black and blue welts. Then she dropped her skirt and burst into hysterical laughter, covering her teeth with her hand. "It was like old times when my old man took a strap to me after he.... I felt like a kid again. We had a million laughs."
Lennox grunted in anguish. Gabby looked at him, then stood up impulsively and took Aimee's hands. "He did a dreadful thing, Aimee. He's ashamed and so am I. Please let us make it up to you. We'll do anything."
"You can suffer," Aimee spat, jerking away from Gabby's touch. "You can sweat. You can fry in hell until Sunday. Because I know who Knott is. This guy you're looking for. I know him. Sure he left a message in your book. I saw him."
"Aimee! For God's sake, who is he?"
"I ain't going to tell you. Suffer, you son of a bitch! God knows you made me suffer with your God damned morals and your God damned strap. Suffer!"
"What strap? Make sense. Who is he?"
"Go on. Ask a little. Beg a little."