Lacy faces the music

Lacy chased Hank out of the bathroom as he tried to escape the bar. For someone so out of shape, he could move pretty fast when he wanted to. She was starting to panic. "Mr. Evers, wait! You don't understand, this is all just a misunderstanding!"

He wasn't listening to her. He was already back at his pickup truck with an unreadable look on his face. The door was hanging open, and Lacy could only see him through the window. "Missee, you got something wrong going on in your head, touching a married man like that. Aint you got any respect for the institution of marriage? For yourself?"

That hit her hard. She hadn't known that Hank was capable of thinking things like that about anyone, although she should have known that he could. His wife was judgmental enough for two people, but that kind of judgment was contagious. Not that he was wrong. What had she been thinking, coming on to him like that? It had been a stupid idea. The kind of idea only a brain dead slut would do. She was ashamed of herself.

"Get in," sighed Hank.

Lacy felt sick to her stomach. "What do you mean?"

"Gosh darn it, I'm not leaving you out in the middle of nowhere like this. Get in the truck." He was a good man. A better man than Lacy had expected.