Hit the Road, Jack! : Hit 30 Years Later (2)!

- THAT. CHEATING. PIECE. OF. SHIT! SHIT!

Sasha stood by the door while Christina destroyed the frozen ribs with the Cutlass on her hands.

Meatballs were the only thing which would remain after that, indeed.

- Cut the onions, please.

It took around fifteen minutes for Christina to calm down. Cleaning her face with the back of her shirt, she asked her grandmother for help.

Half an hour of silence issued between them.

- What do I do… - Christina spoke in a low tone. Sasha, however, didn't answer. She had done this countless times before. Her granddaughter just wanted to vent her anger.

- A bl*j*b right after coming home? Is he an idiot?! Who would do that?! - After putting the final touches to the tomato sauce, Christina dropped heavily on the kitchen chair. Besides her, Sasha rolled meatballs.

- Is this just an excuse? Or what? Did he just want to make me say "no"? Is this what he wants?

Sasha just looked at her daughter with sympathy. The last time she tried to talk to her while she was like that, Christina just stopped venting her anger and went silent. So, for the moment, she would just keep her ideas for herself.

- Am I just that bad of a wife?

Sasha could barely contain her frustration. A bad wife? A bad wife?! She paid for that useless mans' food, drinks, home, clothes and even whores - if one was to count the money he regularly stole from her! Sasha herself had paid for her son's uselessness for over thirty years, and still carried much guilt about making him work for his money - somewhere inside her head was the certainty that, if she didn't make him work, then he wouldn't have gone to Squeam in the first place. Still, Jack never did what this man was doing to her granddaughter.

Silence issued again. Then, for the next hour or so, all the two of them did was to boil meatballs.

***

Late at night.

- OYE! CHRISTINA! OPEN THE DOOR! OPEN THIS F*CK*NG DOOR, RIGHT NOW!

- Shit.

Christina raised her head. She was using a weird equipment on her head - a mix of a headphone with an ECG machine.

She had been reverse-engineering an old program in hopes of finding a way to increase her firewalls' security. The makeshift headset she was using was clearly low-quality but was sure leagues above her husband's.

She hurriedly hid the headset, while also combing her hair to pretend to have been sleeping.

- CHRISTINA! OPEN UP!

- I'M GOING!

With hasted steps, she made it to the door.

- Finally! For Christ's sake!

Her husband smelled like cigars and alcohol. As Christina looked at his clothes, not a sign of messing with other woman could be seen. She knew this was just for this night, but she felt a small relief inside.

- Shit. Get out, I will take a bath. Common, get out of the way!

He pushed her aside, unsteady steps.

- Ouch! - He put more force on his arms than needed, and she ended up hitting the wall.

He didn't apologize.