IN A DIMLY lit living room, Roberta slouched on the couch, drinking whiskey. She looked at the headlight of the arriving car outside that was brightening the walls inside ...

Roberta remembered the perverted sexual fantasy games which she had with Lilya before—where she was the naked stalker in a dark house and she would pounce on the albino girl and 'rape and tortured' her.

Since she was ten, Roberta had relived the mental pictures of the guilt of how her own sister, Laura who was violated during the Medusa days by a serial rapist in the hospital wardroom. The 'games' begun when the albino girl who used to break into her house when Roberta was boozed up in a cataleptic state—and Lilya would slip into her bed and pleasured her like a succubus in the dark.

In their own ways, the similarity was that they both were two depraved sex addicts until they got married—these days the lovemaking drive had plateaued for Roberta; both of them led separate lives since Roberta's demanding career as a captain had placed a toll on her.

Seconds later, the gravid Lilya Devon walked in through the front door and turned the house light to find Roberta alone...

"You are back early, baby, why are you sitting in the dark, dear?"

There was no response. She lifted a couple of shopping bags up. "Ta-da! Look here, Rob, I got this great deal!" She took out a short maternity dress from a shopping bag, she unzipped herself and the outfit that she wore dropped on the floor...

Standing in her lingerie in front of a full-length mirror in the hall, she placed her new dress on her bump and approved it, speaking nonchalantly...

"Rob, do you think my belly got bigger with the twins in me? I can't imagine I will be as big as a cow in months to come; I am so excited Rob. You made a great choice that we should start a family, and I am enjoying every day thinking about what I will do with those two naughty babies crying and will be competing for my attention. I want you to be part of it too, okay Daddy-O?" she looked at her significant other who was slouched, seemed distracted...

"You have not said a word—are you okay?"

Roberta nodded back passively and she poured another drink from the single-malt bottle nearby. Lilya in her undies came over and crawled over her—and started kissing and giggling...

"I am pregnant but yet I am so horny, baby, wanna spoon me?"

Lilya began kissing again and stopped when the reclined and unresponsive Roberta was taciturn towards her, and now Lilya was concerned...

"What's the matter, you are not here." Roberta fibbed with an excuse...

"I am not in the mood, Snowie—it is just work stress."

Lilya Devon picked an electronic photo-album beside the couch and laid her head on Roberta's flat chest—after the mastectomy surgery, the husband had gone a few months before their wedding. Lilya was flipping the images until she came to an ultra-sonography photo of the twins inside her womb—and she compared it with Roberta's dead twin brothers because they were going to name their neonatal daughters after them...

"I noticed this the other day that one of the boys is bigger—who was bigger back at the farm, Johnny or Jimmy?" Roberta silently saw her swiping the frame to scan more photos of her departed brothers—mostly taken when the toddlers were two years old.

Roberta was little drunk, she has a brief reminiscence—of when she was nine at the farm in Wellsville, Utah—she chased after the two annoying brats who ran away with the TV remote control screaming, 'Sponge Bob.'

"Johnny looks bigger sized to me but Jimmy is slightly taller," Lilya was still sniggering in her observations until Roberta concealed the screen with her open palm and told her...

"Lilya, we need to talk."

She took Roberta's hand and kissed it before she sucked on Rob's fingers. 'That is what I am doing, dear—talking ever since I got back but you are the one who is quiet, what's the matter, dear?—did my pussy get your tongue?" She laughed seductively to get Roberta in the mood—but Roberta sat up before she got off the couch, leaving Lilya Devon behind...

Roberta switched on the dining area lights on, and sat at the head of the table where Detective Bernie Planter's envelope was in front of her—the awkward Lilya followed suit and stood at the other end of the table, but the siren was still in her playful mood.

She unhooked her brassieres and got on the table on her fours—the topless tigress moved on her hand and knees towards Roberta who had a glimpse of the glint from Lilya's gold nipple piercing—but the cop went back into the content in the envelope, the younger woman's teasing voice was nearing her...

"Hey Captain, how many times I told you not to bring your work back—home is play-time," Roberta revealed a photo towards her wife's face, and that made Lilya arrest for a moment, and she was discerned by it...

This was the second time Roberta had done this to her—but the last time, Lilya was in control when she had handcuffed Roberta to the bed.

She then heard her husband's firm voice probed...

"Explain this to me!"

"Why are you digging into my past again?"

"You are a wife of a cop and this is what I do for a living—and now you are going to answer what I am going to ask you now..."

Lilya genuflected on the tabletop and looked down at Roberta and she replied, "Since when you are the Mike Hammer kind? You are Captain Jensen—the Dirty Harry who blows off brains of fucktard gangbangers."

The albino girl was making reference to popular TV shows based on movies reboots of the past millennium with butch actors now in the main starring roles.

She stepped off the table and was upset. She leaned at the edge of the table with her back facing Roberta—who looked up at her full-bodied tattoos. Roberta queried...

"So, what now?—you were part of the Aryan Sisterhood back then, are you still with them now?"

"That was a long time ago before I met you."

Roberta was thwarted. "Why did you not tell me this, Lilya? You knew I was in New Orleans fighting the Aryans and you did not even say a word—why all this secrecy even after our marriage?"

Without turning her head she answered back Roberta, "well we both don't support the same government, and I still have no love for Madeline Cory since back those days—but you, my dearest—you are her strong and happy trigger finger puppet, and she rewards you to become rich and famous with her politically motivated promotions."

Roberta was too tired to argue; they both became quiet with reflections...

Lilya Devon had a brief flashback of her past fantasy of shooting Cory during Roberta's Police Combat Cross award ceremony for the heroic shootout against the four black pander gangsters—how she wished that image of Cory's death was just as real as how she pulled the trigger on her nefarious pimp leader, Bing—sending his brains wet on the tarmac in the back alley in Columbus, Ohio.

"Anyways, that was in the past when I was around 12 or 13, growing up in Jackson and after that—I ran away to Columbus to live a new life—and I have no association with the Sisterhood ever since I left it all behind in Mississippi. Now, do you believe me, Captain Jensen?"

Roberta placed her arm around her back and caressed Lilya's swollen belly. She kissed the small of her back...

"Yes sweetheart, I believe you—you need to be transparent with me from today onwards—now tell me, who is their leader?"

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Lilya gently peeled off Roberta's arm, "wait here." She took her brassieres and walked away from the dining table, further saying...

"Since you want an honest answer —I will let you know everything." She left the bedroom...

Roberta looked puzzled for a moment, sitting alone at the dining table—Lilya has so much hidden dark past—can she be trusted?

'Now she has left the bedroom—will she be armed when she returns?'

Roberta's hand reached to her ankle holster and she unbuttoned and took out her Cobra derringer—she cocked the gun and placed it nether— she was still troubled, and did not want any surprises when her mystifying spouse comes back—every second, Roberta heard more noises of cabinet doors shutting from their bedroom...

'What was she rummaging?'

Roberta told herself that she will not hesitate for a moment if she sensed any form of danger—and she should show no mercy when pulling the trigger on the 'enemy' that may have been posing as her pretentious double-faced wife to spy for terrorists...

As the domineering predator, she should not vacillate, she should not linger with the prey that she was up against who may counterattack any moment—she should not repeat the same mistake like she made that resulted in the Preacher to escape to Mexico—she should not be in two minds and hesitate to pull the trigger to kill...

'But—Lilya is pregnant...'

Lilya returned after a moment, wearing a gothic Marilyn Manson t-shirt and she sat across Roberta before placing a photo frame on the table—Roberta picked it up and recognized the photo of herself when she was ten with her friends Roxy Gailman and Y.T. in it—they were all wearing the similar insignia patched black jackets back during her schooldays in Columbus.

Roberta has still pointed the Cobra below the table at Lilya...

She heard her wife speak out first...

"Quid Pro Quo, Captain Jensen—explain to me about these 2 fellers—and then I will tell you about the leader of the Sisterhood."

"What does my past get to do here now, Snowie?" it baffled Roberta.

"Actually, a lot—Come on, quick, Captain Fury—who are they?" she hurried her. Roberta sighed and was the least enthusiastic to engage her past, and she mumbled. "They are just school friends."

"Are they just friends, my dear? You all wear the same type of jacket with the same emblem—you even got a tattoo of it on your arm," now Lilya Devon's inquiries went deep...

Roberta knew from their past discussions that Lilya never arrived at the point which sometimes get them both into heated arguments because once Lilya got into her spiel—she will try to win every contention.

"It is just some growing up silliness at that time, okay? We wanted to have a motorcycle gang back then like some Hell Angels jack-shit outfit."

"Go on—where are your gang members now?"

"What gang members?" The super-cop laughed out at her absurd choice of words, "which part of it are you not understanding, Snowie? We were just bunch of stupid kids then—I was 10 and they were a little older, around Laura's age—and we dreamed of riding big bikes but could not afford it then —or even real leather jackets; so we all went around wearing synthetic motorcycle jackets sold at Walmart instead—that was how dumb we were back then," now Roberta was amused quietly in embarrassment by her own inane adolescence years.

"Okay, what happened to her?" Lilya pointed at the mulatto in the photo.

"Hmm, Y.T. left for Detroit a year after I had known her—and I was still with the rest of the boys."

Next, Lilya pointed at Roxy in the photo and noticed that Roberta ceased to make eye contact when she spoke. "...but most of them dropped off from school—and that was the last of my affiliation with my so-called gang members," Roberta laughed and mockingly replied her with a changing of her voice tone just as how she used to irritate Laura's Mimi name when she was growing up.

"Why can't you say out her name? Did you have a fall out with Roxy?"

Lilya questioning baffled Roberta—how did Lilya know Roxy's name? It was the name of the past that she did not mention to Lilya even after they both lived together for six years.

The Cobra derringer below the table steadied back at her...

Roberta heaved a sigh again. "No, Gailman dropped out of school with many others, and what was left was only a handful of us behind. Then Aunt Flo was pressuring me to shape up my grades...well, the rest was photo-album history and I went to high school, go look up my yearbook—it is somewhere in the fucking room."

She wished Lilya would stop probing but immediately another question sprung out...

"After Roxy dropped out, did you both still meet up?"

Hesitantly, Roberta responded vaguely.

"Yeah, occasionally—but everybody then got busy by then in life when our priorities changed. That year, Gailman was the only one in the group who at the age of 15 was riding a bike around in Columbus while the rest of us focused on our books. Then one fine day, that fucking dyke just took off and disappeared for good—and that was the last I saw of her."

"Where did she go?"

"How the fuck would I know? She rode one-way into the sunset horizon and never came back—probably might have fallen off a cliff somewhere." Roberta chuckled; the thought of her father's Buick which also had such a fall off the crag crossed her mind—but that charged her karma since.

Roberta was back brooding in silence—Lilya smiled back with her eyes.

"Despite how much you hated her, Aunt Flo really pushed you in your studies and today you are who you are; which makes the career promotions and medals that Cory bribes you seem secondary, don't you think so, dear?"

Roberta was discomfited for a second, and she hated it when Lilya switched into other unrelated mortifying topics. Roberta tossed the photo frame to the table centre.

"Okay, enough about me, now you tell me what I wanna know, Snowie—who is the ringleader of the Aryan Sisterhood?"

Roberta straightened herself on the seat, concealing the gun below. Now Lilya laughed out; she was back into her playful mood and pointed at mulatto in the photo-frame, "come on, can't you guess, Mike Hammer—could this nigger be the head of the Aryans?"

Roberta was at a complete lost on spotting it. "What? It can't be—that moron, Roxy? Unbelievable! Fuck—that was why can't I dig up any shit that associated with the Sisterhood group?" Roberta thought out loud, and she lowered the derringer from under the table.

Lilya was amused by her husband's looks of confusion. "That is one of our 'keep-it-white' policies back then—we don't rat on our own." The narcissist albino grinned wide and giggled while looking at her bamboozled cop-husband...

Roberta nodded in silence while she mentally fitted the puzzle together—she had grown up all along thinking Roxy Gailman was an orphan living with her older cousins in Ohio, 'so the cunt descended from the swamp in Mississippi.'

She placed a cigarette on her lips while her fingers were now on the Jackson City demonstration photo, she reaching for her Zippo—she pointed at the photo of a red-haired girl while lighting her smoke up with the lighter.

"What about her? Who is this girl?"

"Her? Why you got the hots for her?" Lilya laughed delightfully, "okay, that is my best friend, Joana Gailman—she is Roxy's sister."

"Fuck me!" Roberta exclaimed once again while she flinted the Zippo that finally lit. She almost burnt the middle of her cigarette while lighting it...

"Roxy has a sister?"

Lilya reached over, wanting to take a drag of the smoke but Roberta refused to give the cigarette to her because she is with babies. Lilya kicked Roberta's feet below the table in remonstration, "yeah, and she got a nice set of racks too and we had a great lesbianacious thingy on going back then—do you wanna know more?"

Lilya was now reminiscing her own period of adolescence past in a jovial way, "the kind of shit we smoked up and the pills we popped until we got horny; hey baby, you remember the rim job I always give you, yeah? I practised and perfected it on Jo's pooper—she is a big squirter too and sometimes she beaver juiced on me until she peed on my face at one time." Lilya Devon laughed out hard...

"If we ever meet Jo again, we can have a threesome—and she will bukkake all over you!"

Roberta was not done with her inquiries, and she does not want Lilya to divert the topic with her trivial carnal repartees. "Okay I got it—you had your share of your fun—now tell me, why did you leave the Sisterhood?"

Lilya pointed back at the photo of her and Joana in it...

"We were in Jackson, just demonstrating for the rights of the whites-sisters on the day your darling president got elected—but Roxy and the Brand brought in guns and claimed that they want to be militia just like the old days of the Brotherhood.

"I did not like how that shit was going down—so I left the group and then I came to Ohio." Roberta sensed something did not add up and she questioned again. "You just left like that, Snowie? That is not like you...now tell me, how did you really end up in Columbus?"

Lily countered the question with her own question, "Why did you leave Roxy? I learned you both were very close back then—answer me first, Rob!"

Roberta took a drag of smoke and depicted an episode of her dark past in the gang, "she came up with a hare-brained idea and wanted to arm us all with guns—and we were to robbing stores so that each of us can afford to buy our own motorcycles; but some of us, we did not like the idea and we avoided her ever since then—Quid Pro Quo..."

Lilya was unvoiced for a second and kept looking at the butch trio in Roberta's childhood photograph frame. "Remember I was in the streets after running away from foster homes... I did once return back to Mississippi but later Roxy sold me to the niggers gang back in Columbus, and they made me a hooker—does that ring a bell to you?"

That was only half the story and she did not disclose that she was also in love with Roxy Gailman back then—if she had told this, Roberta will have not taken it lightly—and that it would strain their present married life.

They both remained tacit, Roberta saw tears flowing from Lilya's eyes —and the police captain gently rose and hugged her across the table, while her other hand furtively slipped the gun back into her ankle-holster.

Roberta's antagonism was building up, and now she wanted to get personal with Roxy Gailman and her Aryan Sisterhood group. She also regretted saving Roxy's life when she was ten—by cracking an assailant's head with a rock in a butch gang clash, where Roxy was almost gored with a switchblade.

Lilya who was embracing her husband, she shivered and she rejoined softly, "Rob, promise me one thing—please don't hurt her sister; Joana is innocent in all of this." Roberta kissing her lustfully while stripping her wife naked—they both then made passionate love on the dining table, as they rolled...

The photographs of their past lives fell on the floor.