Tuason narrowed her eyes, fighting the urge to strangle him.
He mistook her look of disgust for something else. “Of course, I know I’m not Sam. I’m better-looking than him. Take away his Rolex and his father’s money, I bet the girls won’t even look at him.” Rex snorted.
He struck Tuason as someone who initially attracted, but subsequently repelled women. Pent-up anger at years of rejection hardened his voice.
“So, I embraced her again, but I had a hard time with the dress. I had to rip it. Then I ran my hands up her legs, and putang ina, paksyet, she was all cut up. Pwe! I wasn’t that desperate. So I just dumped her there. But it was Sam who killed her. I swear.”
When Tuason saw his smug face, it was as though her hand had a mind of its own, and before she knew it, she had punched him.
