The Night takes a turn...

Juliana was one of only two women in her friend group that was married. The rest of the women were in a constant string of relationships and dates that are so common at their age. To be honest, some of them were actually a bit slutty and, secretly, you kind of liked listening in to whatever trysts or drama they talked about with your wife. Being the “mature” one of the group, Juliana often served as a means of consolation, advice and occasional relationship counseling for the rest of the girls, and she would roll her eyes at you regarding their antics as she talked them through whatever crises they had called her about. Juliana was always friendly, always sweet, and always ready to console her wayward friends on whatever misadventure they had been up to lately. To be sure, it was a fun group, if a little wild, and Juliana enjoyed her occasional adventures with them. It made her feel “not so old and boring” she would say, as if she resembled that description in the slightest.

Still, it was good for your marriage you decided. It kept things fresh instead of boring, and it gave you a perfect excuse to go out on occasion yourself. Compromise was what marriage was all about after all. You glanced at your texts again and realized that you still had not received an answer, nor had the texts even been read. Deciding that you had been patient enough, you proceed to call Julie. No answer. You wait a minute, then call again. No answer. You begin to actually get worried, it was well past 1am and you had no idea what could have happened. You fight down the worry as you call Juliana's best friend instead. What if they had been in a car accident? What if Julie got hurt? The phone rings once, twice, three times. After the fourth ring it picks up. “Hello!” you hear. “Hey, where are you guys? Is everything ok? Is Juliana ok?” you ask. “We're still at the club! Its been crazy tonight, this place is lit!” she babels, clearly **** by this point. “Listen, I need to talk to Juliana and she is not answering her phone, ok? Can you let me talk to her?” you say in a raised voice, attempting to overcome the volume of the background noise on the other side.”Sure!! Lemme go find that little slut!” she giggles. The statement hits you like an electric current, and your adrenaline suddenly spikes. That is NOT a term that Juliana would appreciate from one of her friends, nor is it something you have heard them call her before. “Hey, what the fuck is going on?!” you ask, but all you hear is the thumping rhythm of bass mixed with the incessant chatter of a large crowd in the background. Clearly the drunk little bimbo is walking through the bar and not paying attention to the phone. You sigh, and wait as she presumably works her way through the club.

“Hey!!” you hear over the phone“have you seen Juliana? Its her husband!” you hear her say, before another female voice loudly answers “not since we met up with that group of guys!” you hear yelled in response. Your blood runs cold, what group of guys? What the fuck is going on? “HEY!!” you yell into the phone, but again the little ditz doesn't hear you as she continues her apparent meandering around the club. “God fucking damnit!” you swear, but you may as well be yelling at the sky for all of the good it does you. You begin to seethe with worry and frustration as you impotently wait on the other end of the phone; some drunk ass ditz acting as the only line of communication between you and your wife. Suddenly the background noise dampens considerably, and you hear the click-clack of heels on a hard floor. After a moment they falter, then they stop. You hear a gasp, then a giggle, followed by a quick and quiet “Hey, i'll call you back ok?!” before the phone hangs up. You stare at it incredulously before you start swearing again. As much as you want to get in the car and immediately head to the club in search of your apparently MIA wife, you can't leave the kid alone. You start to pace as the anxiety builds within you. Something is wrong.