“CYRUS NOOOOO! I didn’t want him to DIE! I just wanted to get even with him… OH MY GOD, JAMES! NO… no… no…. no”
She runs over to check on me, and for some reason, seems to care about me now. I look around, and see that I am lying on the photos of me supposedly fucking someone else. I laugh, coughing and wincing in pain in the process.
“How could you…. think that I would… cheat on you?” I ask, between labored breaths. “Why didn’t you just ask me?” I am about to pass out at this point. Ah… sweet dark embrace, please take me now.
“Cyrus told me about other girls… He showed me those pictures… I called you and that tramp in the background… I love you so much, it hurt me to think of you with another woman! I had to strike back at you! WE HAD TO BE EVEN!” My wife pleaded. To me, her justification just made no sense at all. Who was this woman that had replaced my loving wife?
“You love me?” I asked incredulously. “You loved me so much… that you LET him FUCK YOU?… I will never… forgive you…”
She starts sobbing hard now, poor baby. Cyrus cackles a laugh, and she cries harder. I would have felt bad for her, under normal circumstances. But as it was, I felt nauseous, and my chest hurt like extreme hell. I hear Cyrus laughing at her, and he appears standing over me, dressed again.
“HA! I finally got you both down to my level. You were both so fucking perfect, it made me sick just to be around you every day. I hope you enjoy HELL! I might just come back and fuck your pretty wife some more, after the funeral of course.” He started laughing even harder, and head for the door. He turned back, “Caitlin, are you coming with me or staying with him?”
“FUCK YOU!” she spat out.
“So be it. Good luck in prison!” he yelled, dropping the pistol as he flew out the door.
“Oh my god, what have I done…” she continued her sobbing.
I could faintly hear his car tires squealing outside, as Cyrus left in a hurry. Caitlin is still kneeling next to me, dripping cum out of her abused pussy, and crying like a baby. The last thing I hear is her calling someone on her phone, in a panic, and then everything fades to black. I am glad that I can die now. It’s so much simpler than having to survive all of this. My life went from near perfect, to completely fucked up, faster than I ever thought possible. So yeah, death sounds good to me.
*********
The first thing I feel, is my chest. DAMN does it hurt. I blink a few times, and notice that the room I am in is not my living room. Am I dead now? I look around, and have some serious doubts about the “beauty” of heaven, if this is it.
After blinking a few more times, I note that it looks like an apartment, or at least the living/dining room of one. In the kitchen, I see a small light on over the stove, but otherwise there is mostly darkness around me. I faintly see the outline of an older, rickety looking table in the dining area. There seems to be a recliner and coffee table, next to the couch that I am laying on. Upon closer inspection, the fabric is old and tattered, but still stubbornly clinging to the padding.
I look at the clock on the way, and it looks like it is about two in the morning. Where the hell AM I? I look towards the wall, closest to the door, and can make out a few family pictures hanging. Sadly, they are too far away to make out any great detail.
About this time, the pain in my chest makes itself known again, and immediately I think back to the gun shot. How did I survive that? Why wasn’t I in the hospital or something? I slowly sat up, and pulled up my shirt by its bottom hem. There were no bandages wrapped around me, or applied over any of my exposed skin. There was no bullet hole, or any evidence of blood. The only thing I could see was a darker color about where my breast bone sits. I wasn’t sure, but it might have been a bruise. Now, I REALLY felt like I was in the Twilight Zone.
OK, first order of business, need to take a piss. My bladder was screaming at me. Second, after I figured out where the hell I was, I needed to get even with that asshole that I used to call friend. I wasn’t too sure what to do about my wife, but after seeing her getting fucked by another man, and the total lack of trust she showed in me, we might be through. Obviously, I was going to have a tough time trusting her from now on… She definitely didn’t wait too long before letting Cyrus grudge fuck her.
So I stood up, looked around, and realized I still had no clue where I was. It was not my house, I knew that much. Whose place was this? As I stood wondering, a man grunted from the hallway, “Jesus man, how are you feeling? It’s two in the morning, man. You should get back to sleep.”
After a minute, I recognized the voice. It was Shawn, our mechanic. How did I end up at his place? I asked him as much. “Shawn, is that you, man? How the hell did I end up on your couch? And why am I not dead, or in the hospital?”
“Your wife called me, said you were in trouble and needed help. She told me I should get you away from there, and that Cyrus was trying to kill you. She said you had been shot, but didn’t see any blood. I didn’t really understand until I got to your place, and saw you lying on the floor. You got really lucky man… Later today you are going to have to tell me what the hell happened.” I wish I knew, I thought.
As he said this, he sat next to me and held up a silver chain, with an object dangling from it. It was my chain, and Saint Christopher’s medallion, hanging. The medallion was bent up pretty badly, but somehow had miraculously taken the hit from the bullet. I looked at it closer, and the bullet actually looked barely larger than a B-B. It had to be like a . 22 gauge or something. Now don’t get me wrong, a . 22 can still kill, it’s just not that big. I was just thankful that my medallion was a bit oversized and made of stainless steel, and not pewter or aluminum, like most.
I gave a silent nod to Shawn’s ceiling, thanking whoever it was that had looked out for me. Perhaps it was the Saint… I had a fleeting thought. My wife gave me that pendant for my birthday a few years ago. She had said, ‘Saint Christopher is the patron saint of travelers, so I figured he could help you while you are away from me.’ She had saved my life… She was tearing it apart, but ultimately she had saved me without knowing it. Whatever the case, I was not going to argue my good fortune. Besides, my chest was on fire after sitting up.
“Sure man, I’ll tell you about it, later. Where’s your bathroom at?”
He pointed, “Down the hall, first door on the right.”
I went to the bathroom, and after washing my hands, I took a long look at myself in his mirror. Why the hell would my partner figuratively screw me like that, and literally screw my wife like that?? It just didn’t make any sense. Also, where the hell WAS my wife? She called Shawn, but didn’t stay with me? Shit, maybe she ran off to find fuck-face, and plans on getting some more of her ‘revenge’. Maybe she’s in jail, or maybe she just didn’t know what to do, and ran away. Who the hell knows anymore? I used to think I knew her, but apparently not as well as I had once thought. How could things go so wrong, so fast? I had to get to the bottom of things, and soon!
I snapped out of it, and went back out to try to get some more sleep on his couch. He had gone back to bed as well. At about seven, the sun started streaming in through the patio blinds and woke me up. Shawn was up and in the kitchen, waiting for some coffee to finish brewing. I got up and went into the kitchen to wait with him.
“Shawn, thank you. I had the most horrible night of my life last night. You can’t repeat any of this, but Cyrus skipped out on a business thing with a client, and when I got home, he was fucking Cait. He shot me, and it seemed like he had planned on killing me. Why the hell would he want me dead?”
Shawn stared at me, with mouth open, and a blank look in his eyes. “DAMN!” he paused, then, “What the FUCK man? I always knew that he was an asshole, but didn’t think he would do some shit like that.”
“I know. Hey, do you know anyone that could find him, and maybe find out what the hell he is up to?” I asked.
“I think I know a guy.” I chuckled at the cliche sound of that, but he went on, chuckling with me. “Yeah, I know. Everyone knows a guy. I will get you his number. He and I were in high school together, and I think he was a cop for a while before going private.”
We sat for a bit, not saying much, finishing our cups of coffee. When it was time for a refill, I got up and did the honors for us both.
“You said that Caitlin called you, right? What did she say?” I had to know what went down, if for no other reason than my own sanity.
“Dude, I was lucky to make out the little bit that I could. She was hysterical and bawling pretty bad. I was able to make out that you were in trouble, at your place, and needed help. After that I heard some more crying, and she must have been talking to you for a second, before the line went dead.”
“Any idea what she was saying?” I had to ask.
“It sounded a lot like ‘I love you’, or ‘I’ll always love you’.” He shrugged. “Something like that.”
I had always believed that before, but now, I wasn’t sure about anything. How could she possibly think that I had cheated on her? I thought we trusted each other completely. I had thought that we would grow old together, and watch our grandkids run around. I had this dream, that it was just the two of us, on some nice, private beach somewhere, enjoying just being around each other. Oh, well. I guess some dreams are just that, dreams.