I went to move and every single muscle in my body screamed out in agony. I was sore and my head was pounding so hard I could barely see straight. I knew at that moment that I had to leave. I had to get out.
So as fast as my body would allow me, I crawled up the stairs. I’d saved up a stash of cash over since the accident. Just in case is what I had always told myself though I never finished the thought of in case of what. Hiding it in the tampon box in the bathroom closet. One of the places I knew he’d never look, grabbed it and threw it in my purse. I dragged myself into our room, picked up some clothes, and the personal belongings I could get quickly. Heading for the front door I’d snagged up my keys from the hook on the wall. Luckily, Andrew hadn’t thought to take them. I’d hideout for a few days, lay low and then go back for my stuff when I knew he’d be at work.
Pain.
Fear.
Two of the strongest feelings a person can experience in their lifetime and I’d become well versed in both.
I’d come back tonight, thinking he was working late or at another dinner party. He probably told his colleagues I was homesick. The house was pitch black and I didn’t see his car. Despite knowing it was safe I silently entered the house not daring to breathe too loud or turn on a light. He could have put up cameras or an alarm to alert him I was here. I had to be fast. I didn’t have very many belongings that meant something, but there were a few things that I wanted. I’d brought the divorce papers again and more photos I’d taken of all my bruising. Image was everything to him. If I had to blackmail him to give me a divorce, I would. I just wanted to be free of him. I saw the same papers and pictures I’d mailed him earlier spread out on the coffee table. I wondered what he thought as he looked at his handy work.
As I silently padded through the house, I hadn’t been prepared for any of the scenes before me. I couldn’t help standing in the shadows and watching as they beat and then tortured my evil tormentor exactly as he had done to me just a week before.
I froze in the dark hall as they beat him unconscious. Blood spurted from his mouth in dark red droplets against the white tile floors of our old kitchen. Coming here tonight had been a terrible idea. I should leave. I shouldn’t be a witness to what I know is going to happen, but I can’t turn away. A small piece of my brain thinks that it’s poetic justice that he dies this way, brutal and helpless at the hands of someone stronger and more powerful, but my humanity makes me feel sorry for this beaten human being. He’s still my husband, or at least until this divorce goes through, but after tonight I may not even have to worry about that. Obviously, Andrew wasn’t smart enough to realize that sleeping with the wife of one of the most powerful, influential, and deadliest men in the city was not the best decision.
I wonder when it started. I wonder if he started cheating after the accident. How did they meet? Was it worth it? In the end that was always my question.
Was it worth it?
A fist slams down against his face and I hear his nose break as one eye swells shut. Another kick to the ribs while he’s down cements the fact that he probably won’t get up again. I watch the pain that spreads across his face and the wince that follows another kick. This one to the head. I watched as he tried to turn and crawl away, but they grabbed his ankles and jerked, pulling him back.
I was sick, watching his demise. I was smiling on the inside because this was fucking karma. Served him right. Cheating bastard.
“You want the gun or the pliers, boss?” I heard one of his guys ask.
“I think this lowlife needs to learn a lesson. Several, if all the rumors are true. A gun would be way too painless. No suffering with that.” He chuckled, but it’s a menacing devilish chuckle that made my skin crawl.
“Pliers, it is.” He gave the boss a toothy grin. I watched as Andrew stirred, and his eyes widened with awareness, taking in the scene before him.
No, no, no, no, no. They weren’t going to go there. Were they?
Andrew passed out on the floor again, probably from shock. At least he wouldn’t be awake for what was coming.
I wondered if he knew this would happen when they showed up on his front doorstep tonight. Did they ring the doorbell or just break in? I wanted to know how it went down. It’s a morbid thought, but another one my brain won’t let go. Did he know that the moment his cock entered her body his days would be numbered?
I tried my best to be quiet. I didn’t need anyone else to know I was here and as much as I wanted to see them finish the
