Tru Murphy

by Gypsy Reed

  Sara

  I MOVED TO OUR APARTMENT in the city. The divorce kept being delayed. I knew that it wasn’t an accident. Funny how every judge that was to preside over it had the worst luck imaginable. My finances, even what my parents had left me, were frozen, but I just wanted out. I needed to leave all the lies behind me, start over. But I took measures to secure my ability to do just that. I felt like my window to escape was growing smaller.

  Shayne was becoming even more erratic and crazy. He thought I was going to fuck him over as payback. That’s how guilty people are, so paranoid, but I planned to do just that. I was careful; I sent Thomas to see Nathaniel, the Hastings family patriarch, to share some relevant information with him. Under the conditions that Alex be protected, plus I would get my freedom. I would never betray Alex, I would never endanger his life, even if he had been cheating on me in our marriage. I couldn’t give him the family he wanted. I had tried very hard to do that for him. I barely felt like a woman without that ability. He had forced himself on me, had hurt me, but he was letting go of me. It was time for me to let go too. But that was like finally, fully letting go of Sara Hastings, a process I had begun a year ago only didn’t realize it until recently.

  I couldn’t wait to see the look on Shayne’s face when he found out what I did. I wanted to be the one to tell him. He didn’t have any cards left to hold. Daddy knew everything, and he was furious. I wish I had thought of it sooner, but honestly, Nathaniel scared the crap out of me, I didn’t like him. I also had a part to play in his incarceration through Shayne’s extortion; threatening my husband’s life.

  I would have chosen a more pleasant place to meet Shayne in a safer part of the city, but he belongs in an area like this, he’s scum. He apparently wanted to make sure nobody we knew would see us.

  I sit in my car as I cry silently. I shouldn’t still love Alex, he didn’t believe in me as much as I did in him. But that’s petty, Alex loved me for many years, in ways most women never get to have. As I reminisce about our past, I fix my makeup, notice the dress I’m wearing is blood red. It’s like I’m the red flag in front of the bull. The proverbial bull being Shayne.

  As I approach the building, I see a young homeless person; I stop when we pass each other; he stopped too, a frozen moment. I give him my jewelry, even my wedding ring. The necklace is the one I have worn every day because it was my mothers; it had been an antique when I inherited it. It means a lot, but I have to disappear entirely, and that means I can’t hold on to the past, any of it. I am ending Sara Hastings and getting as far away as I can from my husband’s fucked up family.

  I’m surprised by the room I’m led into, it’s brightly lit, empty pretty much, except for Shayne and his huge henchmen that have always unnerved me. They kill people without regard whenever he snaps his fingers at them.

  They would kill me without thinking twice about it.

  Shayne gives me a Cheshire cat grin. “You are so beautiful, Sara. Look at you, in my favorite color.”

  A chill of dread goes up my spine at the coldness in his eyes. That’s when I know I miscalculated something. I won’t leave this room. I think of Alex, maybe someday, he won’t hate me anymore. Maybe in some alternate reality, we’re happy. We have a baby that looks like him. I should have told Alex, but I could never live without him in this world, nevertheless, I think he can go on without me. He hates me now; I hope it’s a lot. Hate me forever, Alex.

  The punch from Shayne startles me, knocks all the air from my lungs, it feels like his fist hit my spine as I fall down hard. There’s dirty old carpet over concrete that provides no cushion. I don’t know why I’m surprised by this turn of events. I had always assumed Shayne’s main target was his father and brother.

  He’s over me pinning me down with his weight making it hard to breathe. Grabbing my face, turning it “Alex loves this perfect, gorgeous face. Doesn’t he Sara?”

  I see his fist, my head hits the floor from the impact of the blow, “I’ve wanted this for so long, I’m so hard right now Sara. When I’m done with you, you’ll never be pretty again.”

  Was this Shayne’s plan all along?

  I’m stunned by that first blow, the second is redundant. It hurts as pain explodes in my head; I struggle to breathe. I can’t feel one side of my face. Then I do a few moments later when the pain sets in as I sob.

  “Shh Sara save that for later, this is going to be slow,” he tells me.

  I see him get up, one of his henchmen comes forward “You know what to do, make it last, make it hurt.”

  I put my hands up as he nears me. “Fuck you, Shayne.” I hiss as I scramble away from the hulk coming at me, fists ready. Coward can’t do this himself.

  He smiles at me sickeningly, “This is going to destroy Alex.”

  The blows hit my face repeatedly; I taste blood, my teeth loosened by the force of the punches; eventually, I blackout.

  I wake up to Shayne on top of me, “Alex.” I want him, he hurt me but not like this. Shayne laughs, “That’s so pathetic you still love him, Sara. He was never faithful to you, never. I know.”

  Can I believe him? He’s a sick, cruel bastard, he may even be the devil. The only truth he has ever told me was that he would kill Alex, I still believe it because he is filming me being brutalized by fists. It might be for his own sick amusement, but my thoughts are more precise than they should be. He will kill Alex when he shows him this movie he has made. I can finally see his entire ingenious plan, it's diabolical. Alex would always die, and so would I. We were the mice. What Shayne is too egotistical to realize is that he’s a mouse too. The proverbial cat is and always was their patriarch Nathaniel Hastings.

  Shayne grabs my left hand crushing it, “Where’s your wedding ring, Sara? I know you still wear it all the time, you never take it off.” he sounds pissed.

  He says something to one of his henchmen. A few moments pass after the retreat of footsteps. I’m surprised how numb I feel, it’s like my brain can’t accept what has happened, I’m grateful.

  “You think you’re clever, don’t you, Sara? Leaving your keys in your car, rest assured we will park it in your spot in the underground garage at the penthouse before Alex even realizes your missing.”

  I think I’m trying to smile, or maybe I’m delirious because I’m feeling the pain. My nose is blocked off, breath whistles through my swollen mouth past missing teeth. I can taste the blood now, it slides down my throat, salty, burning, choking me.

  Shayne’s really pissed, he doesn’t even know that I’ve messed up his perfect plan. I can find solace in that, at least.

  I feel hands tighten on my throat, it's Shayne I can smell his cologne “You’ll never be beautiful again Sara. I should chop you into pieces, then I could send Alex a piece of you every year on your anniversary. Tell Alex the truth, tell him now who really betrayed him. These are your last words, make them loud and clear.” he turns my head towards the camera.

  I spit out some blood that has collected in my mouth, “I did.” I know it’s not rational, but I feel free not giving Shayne what he wants. I’ve lived in fear for so long, I know he will kill me now, all that matters is what always did for me, protecting Alex. “Fuck you.” I slur at Shayne, I’m not sure where he is, just a hunch.

  His hands dig into my head, pulling out my long blonde hair as he slams me into the hard floor. I feel the first crack, the second is an impression, really. I know something just happened, I should know what it was. Instead, I just feel a moment of absolute panic, then nothing at all.

  Tru

  SHE WAS THE MOST GORGEOUS woman I had ever seen; she had given me things that could fetch a reasonable price at any pawn shop or on the street. The diamonds were the real thing. I would know that even without observing her designer dress, her shoes that cost as much as a house payment. She hadn’t locked her car, leaving the keys in the door like she gave that away too.

  As I got into it looking around cautiously, I saw her purse, her wallet had some cash, all hundre
d-dollar bills, plus a shit ton of credit cards as well. I thought of her eyes, they appeared sad, hollow when she looked at me for that one moment then said “Here.” She gave me her jewelry. Her watch is a Rolex on the back inscribed with an ‘A&S,’ I think there is a match for it out there somewhere.

  Her wedding ring is engraved too, ‘Forever, Alex.’

  Why do I think it has a long-lost match too? There’s enough money here to get me high and drunk for months, probably. But why is a woman like that here? Just giving all her shit away. I hit rock bottom a long while back after I got kicked out of the military for being crazy. I was fucked up before that, though truth be told; I have trouble distinguishing reality, so maybe this isn’t happening except my gut says it is.

  Fuck you world, fuck you painful nine million ways to Sunday. Fuck war, fuck military service, dishonorable discharge, and Lottery Jackpots. That’s a government conspiracy too. Designed to keep the poor distracted by the possibility of becoming rich, if only they rub the right scratcher. It’s all utter bullshit!

  I’m thinking about driving away but I look at that shitty abandon building, I remember her eyes. I know that look, I’ve seen it enough in myself to know it means that you have given up. Why? She has everything I don’t.

  I think she needs help.

  Come on Tru, let’s go score... right fucking now.

  She needs me; I know it. I have this terrible cramp in my gut, maybe it’s the onset of withdrawal or the situation.

  Fuck her, I need you, Tru, five-ten minutes tops, the pain goes bye-bye.

  I don’t know her. She’ll be fine. She wouldn’t be here in the slums, if she didn’t know what she was doing, not a woman like her.

  That’s right, tonight we hit the jackpot, let’s get high Tru.

  Fuck LOTTO! Shut the fuck up, now. I need to think. But that’s not a probability, not after seeing her gorgeous face, killer body and dead eyes.

  There’s two fancy black sedans parked down the street, giving just enough distance to disguise which building the occupants were in. Still enough to make a speedy retreat. The FBI uses something similarly unmarked, but these are far too nice for government issues. The top of the line probably has air conditioning and shit.

  What is she doing in there? I don’t like puzzles and hate mysteries. That’s what this is. Fuck my life. I don’t look for trouble, never have. But it sure as fuck looks for me!

  Just walk away, no no no, drive away, you have the keys, let’s go Tru.

  Shut the hell up. I slip the key in the ignition, then freeze.

  Someone was coming out of the building. I slide out the passenger door then duck down, waiting.

  He opens the trunk, ransacks the vehicle, then says “Shit.”

  He was looking for something. I move up behind him silently, tap his shoulder. I head-butted him so hard I see stars too. He falls to the filthy pavement. He’s packing, so I disarm him. I slam his head onto the pavement hard enough for him to not wake up for some time, maybe never. I heard a loud cracking sound that usually indicates the latter.

  Inside I follow the voices, it sounds like death, but it smells worse than that in here. Another one dressed the same as the one I left next to the car rounds a corner, “Who the hell are you?”

  Stupid question. I hate stupidity.

  I fight him; he’s obviously well trained, so was I, I was a Ranger. This asshole dressed in black knows nothing I can’t counter, plus I love to kick ass. I missed this; it overcomes my need for alcohol or my drug of choice. I’m very sober right now, I hate it except for this violence; it calms my mind a bit.

  I do not understand what I’m doing or why. I just have a hunch that I used to rely on. Maybe I can again. I’ll see where this leads, what’s at the end of this particular road. It’s just a detour, but life can be a big fucking detour. Your final destination is always the same, no matter who you are-Death. So bring it on bitches.

  I won’t lie, I almost got my ass handed to me. The man pounding her head into the floor with his fists was near twice my size. I have crazy; I don’t give a fuck on my side, which is why I win in any match I’m in for money or for fun. I’ll do shit to you that would make your mama weep. I doubt I ever had a moral compass. I win period.

  The only other man in the room looked like an uptight prick. His eyes held a look of disbelief. I spit out a tooth his man had knocked out just before I put his lights out.

  I smiled at him, blood running out my mouth “Your turn motherfucker.” I marched towards him, and the little bitch ran off. He hit the wall, misjudging his aim for the doorway. I chuckled at his cowardice. I bet he pissed his pants.

  Then I turned to her body. She looked dead. Their intent was clear to me. This was how they wanted her. I found her pulse, then picked her up as carefully as I could.

  I ran every light and stop sign in her car until we arrived at the hospital emergency room. I drove that way usually too. The voice in my head was strangely silent. All I could think, it wasn’t rational because I didn’t know her from Eve, was this?

  Don’t let her die. Don’t let her die. Don’t let her die.

  I look at the things she just gave me for no reason. It’s the necklace I focus on, it doesn’t match the other stuff. It’s old, an antique, everything else is modern. It may mean more than the others, it may mean shit to her. It’s pretty like she was the first time I saw her. I slip it into my pocket. If she lives, I’m going to return it to her.

  COME ON TRU LET’S GOOOOOO NOOOOOWWWW.

  Whatever, I think I’ll get something to eat tonight. I realize I’m hungry and don’t remember the last time I fed myself.

  Alexander

  I’M WORKING WHEN I take a break for a glass of single malt aged twenty years. It was a gift from Sara; I have made a severe dent in it. I don’t drink often or much at all, Sara and I had that in common. We got so drunk on the champagne at our wedding that we didn’t start our honeymoon officially until the next day.

  I can hear Sabrina moving around upstairs. Since Sara moved out, there is no reason she can’t be here, except that I don’t want her here right now. I want, no need, to fuck her then get off, but I hate her in this house, this is Sara’s house. Shit, I’m going to have to move, I can’t be here with the memories of us; the bitter truth that cuts me to the bone. How could she make me into such a fool?

  I hate her, but I still fucking love her. I hurt her; I remember what I did two months ago to her because soon after she moved out. I feel so fucking guilty every time I think about it or fuck Sabrina.

  Sara’s the most beautiful woman on the planet, she eclipses all others. I always thought her inner beauty matched the outer. I was wrong, God I was a fucking fool, Sara landed me hook, line and sucker. Even with the protection of our prenup, Sara fucked me over completely, blindsided. I never would have expected it from her in a million years.

  She started the divorce. Except she doesn’t want alimony or a settlement or anything from me, that makes me feel like I’m overlooking something. Or that she is still playing games. She excels at them, a talent I never knew she possessed. I was her game, my family, but I can’t understand what her endgame was if she’s not seeking a big payoff.

  Today she didn’t appear in court. I know her, or I thought I did because she would not miss a court date.

  I walk back to my desk where I see the picture of her still on it. It’s a candid shot, a private one, she’s blushing, her deep green eyes mesmerize me. They love me, that’s all that’s in them. Adoration.

  How could it all be a lie? How could she be that good at lying? I always read her emotions like a book. Like when we couldn’t conceive, no matter how hard we tried. I saw it change her. It didn’t matter how beautiful she was on the outside if she was broken inside. When I realized that, I didn’t want to try anymore.

  No one was that good of an actress, not even her.

  I called her at work but never reached her. I called the penthouse, Trevor answered.

  “Yes
, sir?”

  “Put me through to Sara,” I told him. I just needed to clarify a few things.

  “She’s not home sir, I thought perhaps you’d reconciled. Is she not with you?”

  “No. Where is she?”

  “That’s concerning, she has not been here for four days. I thought she had gone home.”

  Where was she? “Shall I call the police, Mr. Hastings?”

  “No, I will if I cannot locate her thanks, Trevor.”

  “Sir, I can with your permission check the penthouse for you, see if she left a note, perhaps I should check her calendar?” His concern was clear. A note? Did he think she’d committed suicide? What was her mental state? The last time I saw her...

  “Yes. Do that then call me back.”