Pausing to draw breath, I continued. “I would rather die or go to prison than to let you get away with this.”
If Crystal had not appeared as early as she did, things would have gone down one of two ways. I would have either smashed Mr. Wilson's skull in and be charged for first-degree murder, or I would have had been raped and had my name dragged through the mud whilst being sedated.
“I did nothing of the sort!” Lyle exclaimed, shaking in fear. He glanced at Mr. Wilson on the floor and at the cuts along my arm, looking genuinely confused. Did he learn how to put on an expression like this from Crystal?
“Congratulations, you've failed to make yourself look like a cuckold,” I said as with as much venom I could muster, sneering at him as I did so with zero regard for his embarrassment.
“Yvonne, you can't say things like that to Lyle,” Crystal exclaimed with shock. This must have been a misunderstanding. You danced with Mr. Wilson at the ball, didn't you? How could you slander Lyle for something you did?” She played her trump card.
I gazed unblinkingly at her without a word. My expression was probably terrifying to behold, as I had just beaten a man unconscious. Crystal was taken aback at the intensity of my countenance.