The words reverberated through Bud's mind as he grabbed the keys to Hudgen's car and ran out the door.  The cold rain did nothing to cool his white hot anger.  His feet almost slipped out from under him, his old football injury complaining at the rigorous movement on the sloppy ground.  Fumbling with the lock of the spare, Bud almost wrenched the damn thing off the rear of the car in his effort to get the trunk open.  He thrust the key in the lock, turning it with enough force for the key to break as he unlocked it.

Tossing the items in the trunk aside, searching in desperation for the pictures that Sid claimed were there.  Praying against all odds it would be anyone else but HIM.  Exley, that son of a bitch.

There was the envelope, Bud ripped it open, backing away from the car as the glossy prints slipped through his blunt, powerful fingers.  Visceral images of HIS hands on Lynn's body, jealously consumed Bud.  His voyeurism tingled in the recesses of his raging mind, wincing at the sophisticated ability Exley conducted his interview with Lynn.  Frustration at not being able to beat Exley at his own game.

The rain drops splattered against the slick paper, dripping rivulets down his neck and soaking his thin shirt.  He stumbled to his car, not knowing how he got it starting, not pausing to wonder why the keys were so conveniently present, when he had set them on the rickety table inside the Victory upon his arrival.  None of it mattered now.

He had to find Lynn.  She would pull him close, he could smell her sweet fragrance and know in his heart everything was alright.  He was living in a nightmare, she was his relief.  The days in bed, waking up by her side before facing the hellish reality of his job.  She was his to enjoy, to revel in, to sanctify what little was salvageable of his soul.

His eyes caught a glimpse of the picture, the one he had in his hand when he jumped in his car and sped off - it had landed conveniently print side up.  Looking up at him, taunting him for the fool that he was for ever becoming involved with Lynn.  It didn't matter that her rates were only for the rich and famous, she was still the whore.  She and Patchett and Exley: laughing their asses off at stupid ole Bud White.  She played him like a cheap violin.

His head ached from the rage that slammed through his body, his face damp with the rain.  Piercing hot tears coursed down his face, the pain and humiliation reflected in his aquamarine eyes.  Frighteningly real, unable to tame his anger as he had so masterfully many times before. His vision ran a misty red in front of him, the scenery tinted to his point of view for the eternity it took him to travel from the Victory to Lynn's house.

The rain fell harder now.  His knee almost collapsing on him as he strode up her walk.  She stood there, fresh-faced and lacking her seductive facade.  For a fleeting moment his heart stopped, regardless of what she was, she would always be beautiful to him.  Her arms defensively around her, begging him to come in, to sit down and talk about it.  Bud never had been much of a talker.

His anger grew by leaps and bounds, his childish demeanor becoming increasingly dominant.  More angry with himself at acting like this, tears and rain splashed against his ruggedly handsome face.  He blinked several times, trying to clear his vision, each time his spiky dark lashes splaying attractively across his cheeks, giving him a boyish quality.  Her answers paltry to his ears, not what he wanted to hear.

He didn't want to come in out of the rain.

He didn't believe for one second she and Exley just "talked".

Bud reached the breaking point, accusation spewing forth in a child-like sob.

"You fucked him."

Her last answer sent him over the top.  He didn't remember the first blow, or the second, for that matter.  Fucking whore....thinks she's helping me...don't need her fucking help...

Suddenly through the red haze he realized his fist was cocked back.  In his anger and fear, Bud had become everything he ever loathed.  The wild expression in his eyes widened into shock as he watched Lynn cringe against the post.  Time stopped for a single moment.  He had ruined everything.

He could only do one thing:

RUN....