by J. Thorn
Drew stood in the middle of the room, his eyes fixed on Brian’s bed. His breathing was slight, as if he were sleeping.
“Have a seat, bro,” Brian said.
Drew looked at him and it made Brian shiver. “On the bed? In your cum stain? Don’t think so.”
He walked over to the kitchen area and sat down at the table. The rickety chair crackled with protest, the 70s vinyl hissing as the air escaped from the foam cushion.
“Got a beer?”
Brian nodded and walked to the fridge. He opened the door and reached in for the last bottle on the top shelf.
Got nothing to offer him after this, at least. Maybe he’ll go, Brian thought. “Here, man. Twist off.”
Brian watched Drew’s fingers wrap around the bottle. He took it to his mouth and drank. Drew’s throat constricted and he coughed, spewing a fine mist of ale into the air.
“Easy does it, man.”
Drew’s eyes filled with tears and he coughed again. “Got some shit in my lungs still.”
Brian turned his head sideways and looked at Drew. “Smoke?”
“Nope. Chemical burn.”
“What you been up to today that gave you chemical burn in your lungs?”
Drew waved his hand as if whisking another round of gasping coughs through his system. “Disposal,” he replied.
Brian stood, not bothering to ask for clarification as he the odor of bleach hung in the air.
“Can you see him?” Drew asked.
Brian giggled and looked around the apartment. The news ended and one of the afternoon talk shows was beginning. With the volume muted, he imagined the sound of the host’s voice as she interviewed another woman, much like two clucking hens. He turned back to Drew. “See who?”
Drew laughed, which triggered more coughing. He tipped the beer bottle back, took another swig, and then threw it at the wall next to the refrigerator. The glass burst like a balloon and shards ricocheted off the other appliances. The neck of the bottle landed on the floor between them and spun clockwise until it stopped, aiming at the stove.
“Spin the bottle,” said Drew.
“Fuck, man. I’m gonna have to clean that up.”
Drew straightened his back and bared his teeth. He slid both hands into his pockets. “Better get rid of that stench, too. You know, the one of stale pussy and cheating whores.”
Brian stepped backwards until his heels hit the leg of the table. The collision knocked a salt shaker off the edge. It tumbled to the floor, spilling its contents in a comet tail of white next to the remains of the broken bottle.
“Have a seat on the couch,” Brian said. He turned his back on Drew and sat down. The second it took before he could face him again felt like an hour. “Say what you need to say. I’m tired of the games.”
Drew snickered and walked to the other side of the couch. He sat at the opposite end and swung his feet up to face Brian. Brian moved his eyes back to Drew’s face, hoping to play dumb as long as he could.
“You’re my best friend, Bri. I need someone to talk to.”
“Here I am.”
Drew sighed, tears streaming down his face. “I think Molly and me are done.”
“Why do you say that?”
“She’s fucking around on me. I came home from work, you know, before the incidents. Came home early and she was in bed. It was like mid-afternoon, and she was in bed.”
Brian looked at the clock on the wall. 1:30.
“A woman’s got every right to jack it, but something told me that wasn’t what was going on. Didn’t think she was diddling herself. Somebody else was there. In my house. I think he got out before I found them, and I think he was fucking my wife.”
“Did you confront her? Did you find the guy?”
Drew shook his head. “I went into the bathroom. Didn’t even want to deal with it. I’m sure I gave whoever was nailing her the chance to get the fuck out, because she had a robe on when I came out, but it was pretty clear that she was in the act. You know that look they get, right? It’s that crazed, primal vibe, when nothing short of a good hammering will satisfy.”
Brian nodded.
“She denied it. Made me feel like a lunatic, one of those husbands crazed by jealousy and paranoia that ends up killing his entire family.”
“That’s not going to happen, man. You’re a good guy. You love your family.”
“I do, Bri. I feel like my entire life is oozing away. It’s like having a slow leak of your sanity. You can see the water covering the floor, from one side to the next, but you can’t stop it. Hell, you can’t even redirect the flow. That water is going to go where it wants to go. That’s where my head is right now. It’s going where it wants to, and there’s nothing I can do about it.”
Brian wrung his hands together and wiped sweaty palms on his thighs. “You could just let it go.”
Drew stood. He grabbed the edge of the mattress and flipped it into the air. Dust and dirt filled the air as it came crashing down onto the frame. “Someone is fucking my wife,” he said, dragging each word out like a tethered stone.
Brian backed up to the kitchen window. He felt the cool glass on his back and wondered if he could survive the fall to the sidewalk below. “You’re right, man. You’re right. You need to get to the bottom of that. Maybe you should talk with Molly, clear shit up, you know?”
Brian watched Drew’s face contort in thought. The rage subsided as he considered the idea.
“Do you think she’d talk to me?” he asked Brian.
“Oh, yeah! She loves you. She loves the kids. There’s nothing more she’d want to do than get your lives back together.” Brian hoped Drew would hijack the idea as his own and continue to ignore the obvious complications of the situation, such as the warrant out for his arrest.
“Well, I can’t exactly get her to come here. I mean, that would be really awkward. My wife, showing up at your apartment to talk about the fact that she’s fucking someone behind my back.”
“That probably wouldn’t be a good idea,” replied Brian. He pacified Drew, walking on eggshells and hoping for one slim chance of escape.
“When’s the last time you saw her?”
The question made Brian fumble his words. He looked at the floor and then at the ceiling as if doing complicated mathematics in his head. “Bowling. Yeah, I think it was the bowling night last week, the fundraiser for the new community center.”
“Yes! You’re absolutely right,” said Drew.
Brian smiled, allowing a slim ray of hope to find its way into the conversation.
“What could she have left there that you picked up for her? She would have remembered her ball or shoes, and she’s probably used her phone since then.”
“How about a ring? Not her wedding band, as she’d never forget that, but maybe the gold, heart band on her right hand.” Brian winced. He shuddered and knew he wanted the words back before they left his mouth. He had seen that ring on her finger; that hand wrapped around his cock as she shoved it into her mouth. How did he know she left it on his nightstand?
Drew’s face twisted. Brian could not tell if it was from pain or anger. He waited. Drew’s mouth formed a slow, burning grin. He looked at Brian with buzzing eyes.
“That’s it!” he screamed. Drew slapped Brian on the shoulder so hard it left a red mark. “She would have to take the rings off to bowl, and she might forget that one as it isn’t her wedding band. It’s not the one that says she’ll be true ‘‘til death do us part,’ not the one that commits her to her husband forever, not the one that signifies her as a married woman. That’s brilliant, Brian. You are one sneaky motherfucker. And, I just happen to know that she isn’t wearing the ring right now because she left it on the bathroom sink this morning. I have it right here but Molly doesn’t know that. She’ll think she really did leave it somewhere else.”
Brian held his breath.
“Let me give you her number,” said Drew.
“Hold on. I got it,” replied Brian.
>
Drew looked at him. His eyes squinted into narrow slits and his teeth appeared under spread lips. “It’s in your phone?” he asked Brian
“No. I meant I have it on the fridge here with the rest of my business contacts.” Brian slid the phone back into his pocket before Drew could see it in his hand.
“Excellent,” said Drew. “Give her a call and ask her to meet you somewhere so you can return her ring, the one she left at the lanes the other night.”
“Where?” Brian asked.
“Somewhere private. I don’t want assholes eavesdropping on our conversation. Our marital infidelities are our problem, not theirs. Right?”
“Yeah,” said Brian. “Absolutely.”
“Tell her to meet you in the park.”
“Why would I do that, Drew? Why wouldn’t I just drop it off at your house?”
Drew thought. “This whole shit with me and the police.”
“And during this I’m insisting that she needs to meet me for her ring? This is sounding really implausible.”
Drew walked toward Brian and put his face inches from Brian’s nose. Brian caught a strong whiff of bleach and gasoline. He felt fear rising in his throat.
“Get her to the motherfucking park, Brian,” Drew said, pushing the phone into Brian’s ear. “Even if you have to use the lure of your cock to get her there.”
Chapter 13
Brian let the water run while he made the call. He could not believe his luck. The prepaid cell phone he used for scoring blow happened to be in the pocket of his jeans that hung on the back of the door. He held the power button down with shaky hands. The screen came to life with a full signal but only one line of power.
“911, what is your emergency?”
Brian paused. For some strange reason he had not anticipated the outcome, had not thought this far ahead. “I’m a hostage,” he said, loud enough to be heard by the dispatcher but quiet enough to be masked by the water pouring from the sink.
“What is your location?” the dispatcher asked.
“Well, I’m about to leave. The guy holding me doesn’t know I have a phone. We’re going to meet his wife at the park and I think he plans on killing her.”
A click on the line, then a pause before the dispatcher replied. “Who is the man?” she asked.
“Drew Green. His face is all over the news. You guys are looking at him for the Crooked Tail River murders.”
“Which park are you going to?”
“I think the one on 7th Street. It’s near his house.”
There was no reply on the other end. Brian looked down at the dark screen. He shook the phone and pushed the power button again, but the battery was completely drained. Brian opened the medicine cabinet and shoved the phone behind a tall canister of shaving cream. He splashed water on his face and ran it through his hair before getting dressed. Brian did the mental calculations and realized he had another minute or two before Drew suspected something. He fumbled through the drawers of the vanity, cursing under his breath at the fact that he was out of razors and could find nothing else remotely close to a weapon. Toward the back he spotted a nail file left over from a one-night stand that had dumped her purse on the bathroom floor. Brian reached down and picked it up, shaking his head back and forth before shoving it inside the band of his sock.
***
“Ready?” Brian asked. He stood in the doorway of the bathroom in a black T-shirt and blue jeans. The frayed cuffs trailed his heel and his knees poked through the thin denim. Brian slicked his hair back and Drew could smell the conditioner.
“It’s not a date, fucknut,” said Drew.
“I know, man. I just got dressed. That’s all.” Brian glanced at Drew’s waist, a bulge protruding from underneath his T-shirt.
“I didn’t realize you had to pack when coming to my place.”
Drew reached down and felt the cold object against his skin. His face twisted in a puzzled way before he shrugged.
“Me neither. At least now we both know where we stand.”
“Yeah? Where’s that, Drew? Where do we stand?”
“You’re going to get Molly to the park so I can talk to her and straighten this shit out. And if you even try tipping her off to the fact that I’m with you, I’ll shoot you both in the fucking head.”
The words fell out with a natural cadence and calmness that made Brian shiver.
“I’m your friend. You don’t need that gun to make me help you.”
“If I don’t need it then it won’t do any harm tucked in my waistband, right?”
Brian shrugged, convinced he did not want to escalate the situation to the point where firearms were involved. The police will spot the crazy fuck long before he gets near Molly, he thought. “No. No harm, bud,” he replied.
Drew followed Brian out of the apartment and down the stairwell, toward the ground floor. They came through a glass door adjacent to the lobby, which dumped them into an alley running between the apartment building and a parking garage. Brian waved at Drew and began walking through the alley toward the end of the block.
“My Jeep is down here. We’ll take that.”
Drew followed behind Brian, remaining within an arm’s reach of his friend. They walked to the curb where Brian unlocked one door and then hit the power-lock button to release the other.
“Shotgun,” said Drew.
Brian started the Jeep and made a tight circle so that they came back around to the street. He put his blinker on and turned left into traffic.
“Stay calm,” said Drew. “Keep with the flow of traffic.”
Brian nodded.
“How long do we have?” Drew asked.
“You heard, right?”
“Would I have asked if I knew the fucking answer to that question?” responded Drew. He bared his teeth and slid a hand between the waistband of his underwear and skin. He glanced into the side-view mirror and saw the gray, withered frame of Gaki in the backseat. The creature stared at him, unmoving.
“Sorry, man. Ten. She’ll be there in ten minutes.”
Drew turned his scowl from Brian and looked back into the mirror. Gaki was gone. “I don’t want you getting out of the Jeep.”
“You want me to wait while you talk to Molly?” asked Brian, shaking his head.
“Well, I don’t see any need for you to be in the middle of marital affairs. It’s not like you have a relationship with her.”
Brian smiled through the fear. “Okay. Makes sense. Don’t you think she’s going to think something is going on when I pull up and you get out?”
Drew ignored Brian and looked at the traffic light turning red. “Don’t run it,” he growled at Brian.
The brakes of the Jeep squeaked as the pads gripped the rotors on all four wheels.
“You don’t have to do this,” Brian said.
“Do what?”
“C’mon,” said Brian. He huffed and tapped his fingers on the wheel. “You’re not right in the head and I’m afraid you’re going to do something you’ll really regret.”
Drew’s eyes lit from within. He reached across and pulled the seat belt up on Brian. The edge of the nylon covered Brian’s throat, and Drew pinned the edge to the seat. He pushed as hard as he could toward the headrest until Brian’s hands came off the wheel and grabbed instinctively for his neck.
“Don’t fucking tell me what I have to do. You’ve been fucking her. If you want to cut the shit, let’s cut the shit. You were in my house, in bed with my wife when I came home. The Jeep was on the curb, asshole. You didn’t even have the brains to park on the next block.”
Brian wheezed and slapped at Drew’s hands. Drew released the seat belt, sending Brian’s head down to his chest in a rattle of coughing and wheezing. He peered up at Drew through his bangs and shook his head.
“You’ve lost it, bro.”
Drew snarled again, turning to face Brian. Horns raged behind them as the lane to the left moved through the green light. Brian shook and began a low, ragged whimper
. He fumbled for the wheel and started the Jeep moving. Drew looked at the light and then at the traffic moving through, motioning Brian to drive through the intersection and toward the park.
“I’ll deal with you after her.”
Brian coughed, gasping and rubbing his neck with one hand. He caught a glimpse of the flashing red and blue lights in the rear view mirror a split second before Drew did. He laughed and stroked the seat belt that had almost choked him to death minutes before and was thankful that it was still securing his body.
“Ain’t gonna happen, Drew.”
Brian’s hand came across the seat with the nail file in his palm. It struck Drew in the chest and the tip snapped like a dry twig. Drew laughed and hurled a fist into the side of Brian’s head. The blow knocked his jaw askew and the impact shattered the window. Brian shook the pebbles of safety glass from his hair. He sat with both hands on the wheel. Drew looked down at the middle console to see a gray tube of flesh oozing forward. It slithered down toward the floor on the driver’s side, and a split second later the Jeep launched forward and through the intersection.
Drew screamed like a child on a roller coaster. The Wrangler squeezed through two openings, a wall of horns and angry drivers on each side. Brian looked down, stomping his foot on the floor.
“What the fuck? The brakes aren’t working!” he yelled.
Drew snickered and threw both hands in the air, waving and shouting with glee.
The vehicle careened off a line of parked cars, throwing a shower of sparks into the air, covering the passenger side of the Jeep with a golden blanket. The sirens that had been silent on slow approach now blared as they pursued the suspect and his hostage. A sedan trying to parallel park backed out and clipped the Jeep in the rear quarter panel on the passenger side. The Wrangler spun clockwise while careening across the lanes and smashing into the cars parked at meters facing the opposite direction.
“You thought you had me, eh?” Drew asked.
Brian moaned as the vehicle slid to a stop. The driver’s side of the Jeep kissed a parked vehicle, sealing the door shut on that side.
Drew looked over a shoulder and saw the patrol cars only a block behind and approaching fast. Another joined them, turning out of an alley.
