#metoo combat

 

It was happening again. All these assholes seemed to want to push her over the edge. It was like they were waiting for Suzanne to get out of her comfort zone. Just this morning, the jerk upstairs had tried to grab her on the stairs.

He had looked at her with a nasty smile from day one. Suzanne had quickly understood what he had in mind. He had even cut a hole in her floor above her shower. What a bastard!

Plus, he had kids.

His wife looked at Suzanne with hostility every time they crossed paths, as if Suzanne was trying to seduce her fat pig of a husband. What could she do, Suzanne, if this guy was a deviant?

He was a tough guy, but he had no technique. She had sent him flying down the stairs. He had hurt himself, so much the better. Maybe he broke a bone or two, big as he was. She didn't give a shit. Beaters, rapists, bullies had no place in the world.

She would find out. If he came back after he got out of the hospital, she would send a team to explain the situation. Suzanne ran a security company, she had a lot of tough guys on her team.

Suzanne didn't want to go through what she had with her father-in-law two years before. He had ended up with a broken neck, on a logging road where he had lured her hoping to fulfill his fantasies.

For two months, she had endured his wandering hands and disgusting text messages.

Her mother understood the problem. When she had screamed, he had apologized, sheepishly. But he had done it again, shy and sneaky. Eventually, the mother had given Suzanne permission to end it all.

The bastard had continued to sniff around her, taking every opportunity to talk to her, to try to seduce her.

Some people, men or women, become addicted to seduction. They can't accept to lose interest in those they covet. On the one hand, they are a bit pitiful. Time is a terrible judge, after a few years, it brutally sends back the beauties and the young ephebes to the oblivion of the society.

Suzanne's stepfather had set his sights on her as soon as he entered her mother's life. He thought he had detected a disorder in the young woman. She had only been bothered by this poor stick, a fat lawyer who had replaced her biological father.

Suzanne had always admired her father. He was a gang cop who had died young, killed during an attack on an Islamist group in London.

Seeing this old fart take her father's place had not been pleasant. But Suzanne didn't judge her mother. She was still young and would rather end her life with someone than die alone as a grieving widow.

Everything would have been fine if her mother's new partner had been decent.

But he hadn't been. He had come to the wrong place. Suzanne had been trained in martial arts since childhood, first by her father, then by close combat instructors.

She wouldn't touch him, but he was on borrowed time. She had slapped him once, hard enough to make him more hesitant. That had only fueled his desire.

When Susan's mother had yelled at her boyfriend for coming back to harass her daughter when he had pledged to stop the behavior, there was already a lot of tension in the marriage. Susan's mother wanted him to leave. She hadn't let him touch her since she learned of his misconduct with her daughter. She suspected that he was seeking sexual favours from other women in the neighbourhood. So she asked him to leave her house. He refused to do so. When she insisted, he slapped her. It was a fatal mistake. He should have paid more attention to the look on Suzanne's mother's face after she had been slapped.

Within an hour, she had walked out, without a word. She had run straight to her daughter, to her agency.

- He hit me.

- Hard?

- No, a slap. But he has to leave...

- Can I take care of him?

- I don't know, you...

- Yes or no?

- Yes or no... yes...

- Okay, stay out of it. I'll take care of him.

It didn't take Suzanne long to deal with this problem. She didn't want this guy to make a habit of hitting his mother. Her men could have broken his leg, but she wanted to deal with him personally.

The next Friday night, while her mother was at the bridge club, Suzanne had rung the doorbell. He opened it. As soon as he saw her, he smiled mischievously.

"What a clown," she thought. "Isn't Mom here?"

- No, she's at her bridge. But, come in...

She had come in, so that he would conceive false hopes. When he had grown bolder, with caressing hands, she had said, "Not here, Mom will be home..."

She had suggested that he take her car, to go a little further, towards the woods. She had let him disappear into the bathroom. "That's it, asshole, go take your Viagra..."

They had gone out. She had gotten into her car. That way he kept his hands on the wheel.

He had driven a few minutes to the nearby woods. When he'd slowed down to a stop, she'd hit him in the throat with an atemi. Another in the back of his neck and she had strangled him. It was useless, he was already inert. She had felt the fracture of a neck when she had hit him the second time. But she wanted to be sure. It was over in five minutes. She pulled him into the passenger seat.

Suzanne's mother had already returned. She had seen the car pull away, with Susan in the passenger seat... She had followed them at a distance, in case anything went wrong.

When she had seen her daughter get out and take the wheel, pushing the body of her ex-lover, she couldn't help but laugh. It was so funny to see that little piece of woman going after that ox!

Suzanne had made the body disappear in acid, alone in the garage at the end of the garden. She had parked the car in the garage and cleaned it up.

The asshole had no kids, no family, no apartment since he had moved in with Suzanne's mother. Suzanne had used his credit card for a while, to give the illusion that he was alive, and then no one had mentioned him again. The next year, Susan's mother simply told the IRS that he was no longer living at her address. They were not married. She had sent back all the bills, mentioning that he was no longer living at her house. No one had ever come to ask questions.

Since then, Suzanne's mother had found another, cooler, companion.