White-hot pain shot through me, instant and blinding, like the skin was being ripped clean off the bone.
The crowd kept growing, every last one of them gawking and whispering about me.
The fat-faced thug's insults grew louder, more vicious, flecks of his spit landing on my face.
"Didn't Reginald used to chase after you? Treated you like a princess, put you on a pedestal? So what happened? He got tired of you already?"
"Bet he slept with you once and realized a woman who's already popped out a kid can't compete with a tight young thing, huh?"
"Who knows, maybe the real reason you divorced your ex-husband is because you were sleeping around. That brat of yours is probably some other man's bastard!"
Every word filthier than the last.
A ringing filled my ears. Everything went red.
By the time I came back to myself, the spatula had already swung in a full arc and cracked across his mouth.
Once.
Twice.
A patrol officer rushed over and pulled me off him, hauling both of us down to the station.
The thug's lips were split and swollen, blood running down his chin. Two of his front teeth were gone.
The female officer handling my statement was sympathetic, but she could only do her job.