"You don't have the right to say that." Oh I think if anyone has the right to say that Justin does," said Vikki sounding unusually serious. She looked...at me. "Why don't you tell her Justin." I'll do better than that. Now of course you've seen me as I was Vikki. But Martha you haven't, but I have a photo to show you." I turned to Vikki. "This photo has been in my wallet since I first started my diet and fitness regime as a reminder of what I was like." I reached into my wallet and pulled out a. A married woman older than my mother and all she had to do was crook a finger for me to come and I went. I've said it before – the woman owned me and always would. God only knows why she spent her time with me. She says that she does it to keep the scales balanced between her and her husband and I guess I can understand that, but why with me? That's the part I'll never understand. The woman was a sex Goddess; she could have any man she wanted so again, why me? I'd probably never know, but I was. Sitting in his one hundred thousand-mile station wagon the man pulled his 2003-laminated license out of his pocket and read it aloud to make sure the kid got it right. “Name … Eugene Booth. Address … 101 South Broadway, Geneva Ohio. Age … sixty-six. Hair color … Gray. Eyes … Blue Height … five feet-eleven. Weight … one hundred and ninety pounds. Expiration date … March 2004.” Satisfied, Gene (only his mother called him Eugene) reached around to the back seat and pulled a cold beer from the. ’ Completely confused now, he surrendered. ‘I promise. I will accept what they say, and I won’t cause any trouble. I just want Liz home.’ ‘I know sweetie, and you’ll have her home.’ ‘Is it all right if I ask questions?’ ‘Sure, just as long as they don’t feel you are challenging, or objecting, or anything.’ ‘All right, Darla, I am in your hands. I’m trusting you.’ He sank back in his chair, resigned to behave, and take Liz home. As if on cue, the door behind them opened. ‘Ah! Darla!.