As if timed to my thoughts, I heard another voice. A man's voice coming from the bedroom I shared with my girlfriend. I stopped again, this time because my whole body was tense with anger. She wouldn't really dare, would she? In our bedroom? In our bed?
But apparently, she would, because now both of them were moaning, and it was getting louder. I unfroze and made the last few steps to the bedroom door in seconds, barely managing to throw it open with my hand instead of kicking it down like I wanted.
"Cassius!" Michelle shrieked as I took in the sight in front of me. Well, I'd been wrong. They weren't on the bed. Instead, there was Michelle, on her hands and knees on the floor, and some man I'd never seen before kneeling behind her, his hands gripping her waist and his hips still mid-thrust when his eyes met mine and all the color drained from his face.
He didn't look too out of shape, but I sized him up and knew I was perfectly capable of beating the shit out of him. From the expression on his face, he knew it too.
"I don't know who you are," I said through gritted teeth, "but how about you take your dick out of my girlfriend?" He did, and stood up, backing away from me and then, perhaps realizing I was between him and the only exit, stopping
"Cassius, wait, I can..." Michelle trailed off as she stood up.
"You can what? Explain? Go ahead then." She didn't answer. "Okay, then, how about I explain!" I strode past her and took hold of the man by the back of the neck, dragging him toward the door. "You brought this man into the home we share and had sex with him on our bedroom floor."
"Cassius! Don't!" Michelle tried to slow me down by clinging to my free arm, but I shook her off. At first the man resisted but he was no match for me, and soon he gave up and stumbled along. I paused at the bedroom door. "Are the keys to his car somewhere in this room?" I asked Michelle.
She looked around, and her eyes landed on a pair of pants on the floor. She looked guiltily back at me, but I just held out my hand, my face stone. She went to the pants and fished a set of keys out of the pocket, reaching to put them into my outstretched palm. "Why don't you put some clothes on!" I said to her, very much not as a question. She nodded silently, and I resumed marching the man out of my house.
"I don't know you," I said to him as we went down the stairs, "so, I'm going to do you the favor of assuming the best of you. I find it hard to believe you didn't know I existed, but maybe you were under the impression that I didn't care, or that the relationship was over and she was just waiting for me to move out." We hit the entryway, his bare feet slapping on the tile as I hurried him along. I barreled through the front door and shoved him toward his car. He stumbled forward and fell into the side of it but scrambled back to his feet. "If I ever see your face again, I might not assume the best anymore. Got it?" He nodded fervently, and I threw his keys on the ground at his feet. "Good. Now get far away from me."
I turned to go when I heard a tentative sound of protest from him. I looked back.
"What about... I mean... my clothes..." he stammered. I glared at him and then gave him the smallest, iciest smile.
"Should have thought about that before you fucked my girlfriend, huh?"
And I turned on my heel and went back inside to see what my soon-to-be ex-girlfriend had to say for herself.