Killing the Wife

The two big gorillas that had snatched me off the street dragged me into the smoke-filled club. They each kept a hand on my shoulders keeping me from bolting for the door until the boss signaled to bring me over. My legs felt like Jell-O and they just about had to carry me over to his table and slam into a chair facing the boss of the local crime family. He made a big show of pouring himself another drink and lighting a cigar before he turned his attention to me, and I could only sit there sweating waiting for him.

“You know who I am don’t you?”

I nodded, hell everybody knew who he was and the fact that the cops couldn’t touch him.

“I just want to be clear so I’m going to need you to say the words.”

I stuttered as I tried speak, “I…I…I know who you are.”

The big man blows cigar smoke into my face causing me to start coughing. “You know who my wife is also.”

“Yes.”

“Yet you end up sleeping with her knowing what I could have done to you. Knowing that with one word, one fucking word from me and you will be a eunuch. I could have your balls cut off right now and fried up and feed to you and you still slept with my wife.”

I was sweating like a stuck pig as the saying goes at this point. I suddenly couldn’t breath and was having a heart attack as I imagined all the things he was going to do to me.

“Calm down. Joey get this guy a glass of water.”

One of the boss’s goons walks over and slams a water glass down on the table in front of me and I snatched it up gulping the lukewarm water down.

“Here is the problem. I could take care of you, but that leaves me with a slut of a wife and having to do this next time she spreads her legs for some idiot. I could have her knocked off, but the cops would be all over me for that and well divorce isn’t an option.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Me nothing. I’m going to go out of town this weekend. I’ll be leaving Friday morning and by the time I come back Sunday evening my problem will be solved or you will be sitting to piss from then on you get me.”

“You want me to kill your wife?”

“Now you are being a smart guy.”

“I haven’t ever even fired a gun.”

“I don’t care if you shot her, stab her or fucking poison her as long as by Sunday she is dead.”

“I wouldn’t know how to do that; can’t you just hire somebody?”

“God damn I think you already had your balls cut off. I’m giving you a chance here to save your fucking manhood and you are crying like a bitch. You know the fucking deal, so you decide.”

He waved over the two gorillas that had brought me in and they dragged me out.

When they dumped me out of the car, I found the nearest bar and ordered a double. I throw it back as I tried to figure out what I was going to do. Running didn’t seem like an option, as I saw it I had only four, the cops, run for it, kill his wife, or end up dead. The cops wasn’t safe, Marcus King owned at least half of them, I go to turn him in and he would know it. Running would only delay it, he would have me dragged back and make it slow and painful. That only left killing the woman I love or being killed myself. I know at twenty-six that I didn’t know anything about love, but I know what I felt for her, but death wasn’t something I wanted.

Before I stumbled out the bar, I had decided I was going to kill her, I loved her, but I wasn’t willing to die for her. I spent the next day trying to figure out the three major questions, where, when and how. I was on a deadline, so when had to be over the weekend, I wanted to get it over with, so I planned on doing it Friday night. Where was a problem, if I had her meet me somewhere and she ended up dead I would be a suspect. It would have to be at her house, that would also make it easy to make sure there were no witnesses. How was the big one. I wanted to do it quick so she didn’t suffer, but that left only one option gun, but I didn’t own a gun, I hadn’t even ever held one. I did know where to get a gun, it wasn’t registered, so no chance it would lead back to me.

Wednesday, I hopped a bus and went to visit a buddy of mine. I hung out down the street for the gas station he worked at until I saw the boss leave.

The bell on the front door jingled and Karl looked up from the porn mag he was reading. “Fuck dude, long time no see.”

“Been busy as fuck lately.” I held up a paper bag holding a six pack of beer. “I brought beer.”

“I’m working dude.”

I force myself to relax and laugh. “When has that ever stopped you before?”

He laughed, “Never.”

I pulled the six pack out and slide him one as I popped the top on one for myself.

“So, what kind of work you doing now?”

“A little of this and a little of that. Nothing really special.”

“At least you got out of this shit hole.”

“Hector still a son of bitch?”

“Fucking beaner is worse than ever. You know he fired Kellie cause her drawer came up short.”

“Damn I thought he was tapping that ass.”

“I thought it too, but apparently not.”

We sat there shooting shit until he had his second beer.

“I got to drain my main vein dude.”

“Bathrooms are for employees only,” he tells me with a chuckle.

“Fuck you dude.”

I head in the back, but I pass the bathroom door and hit the office door. It is locked, but it is cheap ass lock that only takes a little jiggling to pop open. The gun is in the desk where I had seen it three years ago. I grab it up and the box of bullets.

Twenty minutes later I’m headed home. When Hector finds the gun missing, he will flip, but he can’t report it since it is unregistered. Karl might get fired, but I can live with that.

Thursday morning, I decided I need to practice with the gun, so I took two buses and walked a half of mile. I ended up in an old factory well away from any houses which I hoped meant people. I sat up a few bottles and cans for targets and moved back to what I thought was a good distance.

They make it look so easy in movies and TV shows, but damn it is hard. It wasn’t only trying to hit them bottles and cans, but the noise. The fucking thing was loud, like heavy metal turned up all the way loud. I had run through half the box of bullets before I was getting the hang of it. I was ready or as ready as I could be so I headed home with a quick stop at the liquor store.

I woke with a pounding headache and a foul taste in my mouth from puking half the night. I took a quick shower trying to clear my head and sat down to watch TV. I knew that Amanda would be home at 9:30 that night for a call from Marcus. So, I had all day to kill, but I was feeling so damn nervous I had a drink to calm my nerves. One drink really didn’t do it so I had another thinking I had time to kill and could sober up if need be by the time I had to head out. I guess I fucked up because I woke up at midnight with a pounding headache.

It was Saturday and I only had a little over a day to kill the woman I loved. I laid there on the couch considering waiting, but I couldn’t help but think this couldn’t be more perfect. She was home alone and asleep. I just break in shoot her and take off, hell I kind of remember her telling me once she didn’t even lock the doors because nobody would rob her husband.

I got up and quickly got dressed before I reached for my phone to get a ride. I had the app open when it hit me that I was making a mistake. Even if I asked to be dropped off down the block or a few blocks away the driver would remember me. I reached for the bottle of whiskey as I considered what to do and had it almost to my lips when I realized I couldn’t drink. I start drinking and I’ll never do it which means I’m a dead man.

Dropping the bottle, I head for the door, I was just going have to borrow a car, luckily, I knew somebody who wouldn’t even miss theirs. Tammy had once shown me where her spare key was, so I quickly got on the road. It was thirty-minute drive at this time of night, and I spent every second of it feeling like shit for doing what I had to do.

I drove past the house and pulled over into the woods about a quarter of mile away. I just about kicked myself when I realized I had no flashlight. I stumbled through the woods, but I found the back of the house. The door was unlocked, and I eased it open praying that it didn’t make a noise.

I stepped into the kitchen and stood there. I had never been in this house before I had no clue where Amanda would be sleeping, I assumed upstairs, but maybe she fell asleep downstairs while reading. I crept forward keeping the gun in my pocket. I figured if I woke her I could claim I had heard Marcus was leaving town and came to visit her or something.

I searched the downstairs which wasn’t easy with no flashlight and ended up at the bottom of the steps. I was glad to see the were carpeted, I don’t know why but I thought wood steps would creak where carpeted ones wouldn’t. At the top of the stairs I looked left and right along the hall. Left would put me at the front of the house, where I assumed was the master bedroom, but a light was coming from under a door to my right.

I crept down the hall to the right and listened at the door, but I didn’t hear anything. I tried to tell myself it was just a light left on, but I need to check to be sure, so I turned the handle and gentle pushed the door in as I pulled out the gun. I nearly stopped breathing as I saw her asleep in a chair with a book half open on the floor beside her. I quickly raised the gun and pulled the trigger.

The first two shoots missed and the woman in the chair jumped up. It wasn’t Amanda, but she looked like her. I pulled the trigger again as she screamed and tried to dive behind a bed. She hit the floor with blood pumping out of her side and tried to crawl. I rushed into the room and aimed down at her pulling the trigger until I heard it click down on a spent round.

That is when I heard somebody screaming from down the hall. I tried to run towards the screaming as I reloaded the revolver, but I ended up dropping bullets. I was about to reach the doors at the end of the hall when the burst open and she charged out. We collided and both went tumbling, the gun fell from my hand and slipped through the banister to hit the floor in the lower hallway.

I scrambled up as she tried to rush past me. I grabbed her hair and slammed her beautiful face into the wall leaving a smear of blood. I tried to do it again, but she kicked me in the shin and pulled away. I tackled her at the top of steps, and we wrestled. I don’t know if fear gave her more strength or she had gone easy on me during our marathon sex sessions, but she put up a good fight. I thought I had her when I ended up on top of her, but suddenly she bucked me off and I ended up tumbling down the steps.

I was sucking air through clenched teeth as I noticed the gun right there. I guess she thought I was stunned more then I was or just so panicked that she didn’t think straight, either way she tried to run down the steps and past me to the front door. I grabbed her ankle and she ended up doing a face plant into the floor. I grabbed the gun and quickly crawled on top of her. I don’t know what came over me, but after smashing the butt of the pistol into the back of her skull twice I just started whaling away at her head.

When I came back to my senses her head was just a bloody smear on the carpet. I fought back the tears as I made my way back to my car. I hurt like I had just gone twelve rounds with a heavy weight champion and lost. I nearly crapped myself as I drove home every time a car got behind me. I finally got home and dropped into bed.

I woke up the next morning and turned on the news. The mother fucking lead story was about Marcus King and his wife being killed on the same night. The reporter hinted that the police thought it was a double hit ordered by a rival of Marcus. I grabbed the bottle of whiskey and downed it. I had killed her for nothing.