DECEPTION HOTEL: A Wedding, an Affair, and Murder for Hire

by Barlow, Madison

“I can’t do this to him, he’ll never forgive me for being with you.”

  “So you want to kill him!?”

  I looked down at the gun in my handand a wave of sorrow overcame me. I swallowed hard, trying to keep my tears in check.

  “I’ve already killed him,” I whispered, “by what I’ve done.”

  “You’re crazy!” he cried out, “I can’t believe this.”

  “Please Peter,” I knew I sounded like a mad woman, but I didn’t know what else to do. If Andrew knew how much I loved him, how much hurting him killed me … I couldn’t let any of this go on. I couldn’t see any other way out, I couldn’t do to him what my mother had done to my father.

  A sob built up in my chest when I realized that I had become everything I’d hated about my parents. Detached, emotionless, dead on the inside. Crazy.

  “Please, Peter. I need you.”

  “Look, Claire, I’m not doing this. It’s all wrong. I didn’t even know you were married, otherwise this wouldn’t even have happened. I’m not doing it.”

  He slowly walked to the door. This wasn’t working the way I needed it to. My hands started trembling and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. My only option was walking out the door.

  “Wait!” I cried, and lifted the gun, pointing it at him. He turned, and when he saw the gun, he froze.

  “You can’t leave,” I said, tears running down my cheeks again. I’ve never cried this much.

  He looked at the gun, and at my face.

  “You won’t do it,” he said matter-of-factly.

  I swallowed hard, and put the gun in my mouth.This time I had his attention. His eyes were wide, his hands extended towards me.

  “Now wait a minute,” he said, suddenly cautious, “let’s think about this.”

  I wanted to say something but with the gun in my mouth I couldn’t, so I just looked at him, unable to stop the tears. My hands were trembling so much the gun was rattling against my teeth. Adrenaline pumped through my veins. I was so close to death, so out of control, anything could happen now. A warm feeling spread through my body. This dance with death was manic, for the first time I felt like I could just let go. It didn’t really matter what happened now.

  Peter must have seen the same thing, because he started taking small steps toward me, his hands still raised, his face calm but his eyes anxiously glued to me.

  “Put the gun down Claire. People make mistakes all the time. Your husband might even forgive you, that happens all the time too. You don’t want to end it all now, you still have so much left.”

  My breathing calmed down, and I stopped crying. He was still coming closer. I wanted him here, next to me, his arms around me again.

  Two more steps and he was right in front of me. His eyes were intense, boring into mine, and he kneeled in front of me, his hands on my knees.

  “Come on, honey, take it out of your mouth,” his voice was smooth, caring.

  I sighed, and slowly pulled the gun out.

  The moment it was away from my face, his arm shot out and he grabbed the barrel.

  “No!” I cried out, clasping my other hand around the hilt too, holding on for dear life. He would not take this away from me, he would not treat me like a mad woman!

  He was still kneeling, his other hand trying to pin me down on the bed. I jerked the gun, trying to get his hand off the barrel, but the quick movement pulled against my finger, and I accidentally pulled the trigger.

  Chapter Nineteen - Andrew

  “What do you think this is? You can’t just change your mind like that on a hit!” Gavin was leaning forward, his stance aggressive. He looked completely different than the Gavin I knew. He looked a lot more dangerous, in fact, than the Gavin I knew, and fear started crawling down my spine.

  A wave of dizziness overthrew me and I sat down on the single bed in the corner, trying to keep the black spots in the corners of my eyes away. My head was still throbbing and my chest felt like I had inhaled flames.

  The more I thought about what I’d said to him, what I’d ordered, the more I became overwhelmed. I had a sick feeling in my stomach, and my mouth was dry. I swallowed over and over again but my throat felt like sandpaper, and I could feel sheen of sweat break out across my body.

  “I don’t want you to kill her. I love her, okay? And I was wasted when you told me you would.”

  “Well it’s too late now, man.” His casual shrugs and skew grins were nowhere to be found. His voice was harsh and he scowled at me, his dark eyes a threatening black, “You asked to get rid of her, and I said I’d do it. We agreed and I’m not backing out now.”

  My hands started trembling, and I rubbed them on my knees, trying to dry my palms that were unusually sweaty.

  “I don’t want you to do it. We haven’t really agreed on anything, I haven’t given you any money, you haven’t even given me a price. It really comes down to nothing in the end. Let’s just drop it.”

  He shook his head, his chin tilted up and he glared at me down his nose.

  “I can’t do that man. I can’t just forget it happened. You’re not bailing out on me now, man.”

  He reached behind his back and pulled out a gun, pointing it at me.

  “What the hell!?”

  Something jumped in my chest, and my body stilled, the trembling in my hands gone now. I couldn’t feel my legs.

  “What are you doing?” I looked at the gun, its black mouth gaping at me. Gavin’s finger was on the trigger. For a moment I wondered if he knew how to use it, if accidental firing was an option, but he looked pretty comfortable with his fingers wrapped around that thing. His hand was loose and his face was calm. I was in way over my head with this kid.

  “You know too much, Andy. I can’t just let you walk away now, what if you snitch on me? I ain't doing time, man. I have plans, you know?”

  I breathed in deeply, trying to steady myself, trying to keep track of all the parts of my body that I couldn’t feel.

  “Look, Gavin, I’m not going to tell anyone. All I want is to leave here with my wife, and you won’t hear from me again.”

  “I can’t take that risk.”

  This kid was something else. You grow up hearing about manic people, sometimes they have it on the news where someone loses it and goes on a killing spree. But you never run into them, not in real life. Sure, I knew there were people like that out there, but seriously, what were the odds of me getting held up in the staff quarters of a hotel, after my sister-in-law’s wedding? All because I was too drunk to know what the difference was between anger and revenge.

  I folded my hands in my lap, trying to look calmer than I felt.

  “You don’t want to do this, Gavin,” I tried a new angle, “you have your whole life ahead of you. It’d be a shame to waste it in jail.”

  “I knew you were going to turn me in!” he cried and straightened his arm, turning his body to the side so he could aim down the barrel.

  “No, that’s not what I’m saying,” I tried to fix it. I was digging myself a grave here, “all I’m saying is you’re a good kid, you don’t have to do this.”

  “Don’t talk down to me! You’re not that much older than me!”

  “Have you shot someone before?” I asked, and I knew it was a ridiculous thing to think of, but I was suddenly curious to know if I was on a list, or if I would be the icebreaker. He was comfortable with that gun, confident and arrogant as always, but he was hesitant to shoot. It looked like a big deal to him. I guess when you’re that close to the end, you start thinking about stupid things.

  Claire's face flashed in front of me, her electric eyes and her dark, dark hair, my Snow White. I wish I could tell her one last time how much I loved her. Regret shot through my chest as I realized I hadn’t told her enough, not even close. She’d been there every day, and I’d started looking past her. I had the best thing that ever happened to me right in front of me, and the best I could do was fight with her.

  A lump suddenly rose in my throat, and I felt ridic
ulous for being so close to tears. There was a gun pointing at me, the gun I’d ordered for Claire, and all I wanted was to hold her close, to kiss her and tell her that my life would be nothing without her. If I lost her, even if I already had, I would never be the same again.

  “Jesus, man up,” Gavin said. He must have seen something in my expression, “I’m about to shoot you, and you look like you’re about to bawl.”

  “I just wish I could see her one last time,” I said more to myself than to him, “just tell her I love her.”

  “She cheated on you, man. What’s left to love?”

  “You’ll understand it one day, when you find that one person in all of eternity that completes you.”

  He rolled his eyes to the ceiling.

  “Give me a break.”

  A loud crack sounded, and echoed through the hotel. This was the end, I thought, the last moment before the bullet would hit me, and that would be the end of it.

  Nothing happened. No impact. No pain.

  I looked at Gavin. He had a strange, greenish shine to him, and horror crossed his face before it twisted into something between a snarl and anguish. He reached his hand up to his chest, and patted himself. When he looked down at his hand, it was covered in blood.

  A wave of shock travelled through me, making every inch of my body tingle. My mind raced to put all the pieces together, but my brain felt sluggish and I couldn’t seem to figure out what had just happened.

  Gavin looked at me, his eyes pleading, making him look like a teenager. Then he crumpled to the floor, the gun bouncing once before it too was motionless.

  I stared at the picture in front of me, feeling numb. I couldn’t get myself to move. I concentrated on breathing.

  In. Out. In. Out.

  A heavy feeling slowly pulled me down as I realized Gavin wasn’t going to move again. He was dead.

  Behind him, there was a hole in the wooden floor.

  Chapter Twenty - Claire

  We were caught in a moment where it felt like the world around us had come to a standstill. Peter stared at me, the gun in his hands now, and I stared right back. The sound of the shot had been so loud, my ears were ringing and we were surrounded by a puff of dust. There was a neat round hole in the ceiling above us, and a bit of plaster next to me on the bed. My body felt like it was buzzing, like a tuning fork, and my hands were stiff after clutching the gun so tightly.

  The door flew open, and Andrew stormed in. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Peter, and for a moment fear jumped me. I had no idea what Andrew would do with another man in our room. His eyes flitted over me and he breathed out, looking like his life had just been saved. Then his eyes shifted to the gun in Peter's hands, and anger replaced the warm relief that had been directed at me. He frowned and his face reddened, his hands balling tightly into fists.

  “Get away from her!” he shouted, and charged towards Peter. Peter was still stunned, and looked at me, confused. Andrew tackled him from the side, and the air left his lungs with an audible grunt. He scrambled on the floor, bewildered. He shuffled backwards until his back hit the wall. When he realized he was trapped and Andrew was still looking like he was going to assault him, he did the next best thing. He looked at the gun in his hand, and pointed it at Andrew.

  “Don’t think you can scare me with that,” Andrew barked, “I’ve been faced with enough guns for one day.” He took another threatening step towards Peter. Peter jumped up, still waving the gun between me and Andrew, and started backing towards the door, not taking his eyes off us.

  “She's crazy! I don’t know what the hell is going on here. You’re all crazy!” he cried, jerking the gun in my direction.

  “Be careful where you point that thing,” Andrew growled. His voice was deep and guttural, and his eyes were locked on Peter. There wasn’t a trail of fear, even though he was facing a gun. His body was hunched forward and he slowly crouched down like he was going to pounce. It was so animalistic, I forgot myself for a moment and gaped at this transformation of a man in front of me. It was the most manly display of authority I had ever seen. The Andrew that had always been afraid to claim space in his own life had been transformed into the alpha male right in front of my eyes.

  Peter stood, frozen close to the door. He was very clearly the weaker of the two, and he knew it just as well as Andrew did. He took another step back.

  “You can have her!” He cried, and ran out, leaving us in the wake of destruction. I stared at Andrew, my mouth half-open. He was breathing hard, his hands still clenched in fists, and he stared at the door like he was waiting for Peter to jump back into the room.

  “I think he’s gone,” I whispered, and then finally it looked like the spell was broken. His hands relaxed, and he turned to me.

  “Are you okay?” he asked holding his hand out. I hesitated. He looked triumphant, the confidence in the way he pulled back his shoulders and lifted his chest. It was all there, so much testosterone oozing out of his body, the silly grin of victory plastered across his face as he looked into me with eyes like he saw me again for the first time in years, saw me the way he saw me when we had gotten married. I took his hand.

  “I’m fine,” my voice broke. I could feel the onslaught of tears creeping up on me, and for a moment I panicked about crying in front of Andrew. I tried to smile, but my lip was already quivering, and I knew if I wasn’t careful my face would crumple soon. But he pulled me into his body, and held me tight against his chest, and I couldn’t help it. I broke down in sobs.

  “It’s alright,” he murmured, and I felt the gentle hum of his voice reverberate through his chest, “It’s going to be alright now. He’s gone. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  Chapter Twenty-one - Andrew

  I don’t know how long we stood there, my arms wrapped around her and her small body shaking violently against mine. It was all a very big mess. I knew it was. And somehow I still couldn’t get myself to feel the full weight of it all. There was a dead man in the room above us, and I knew that would hit me at some point. I had faced two guns in the span of ten minutes and that would probably knock me out, too. But I was just so glad that we were both alive, and that the walls were finally down. She had let me in after what had felt like forever, and I could protect her again, could show her, and the world, that she belonged to me. Let them come, I thought, let any man try and take her away from me now.

  Sirens started up in the distance. Someone must have called the police. How many people were still around? I had no idea how many people had left after the wedding. As the sirens grew louder, Claire’s body stiffened against mine, and I heard her gasp for breath.

  “What are we going to do?” she asked, looking at me with bright, panicky eyes.

  “About what?”

  “The police, what if they arrest me?” the fear on her face made her look so much younger than she was, it was hard to think this was the woman that not even 24 hours ago had been hard and unbreakable.

  “Why would they do that?”

  “Because I think I pulled the trigger,” she whispered.

  Normally a confession like that would have made me nervous. But she was in my arms, looking so scared and vulnerable, and I was here to protect her now, and make sure nothing hurt her.

  “It’s going to be okay, my love. I promise.”

  The police were all over the hotel within minutes. They ran into the rooms, guns unclipped and hands on their hips, expecting action. When they’d covered the hotel, two officers stayed behind to question us while the rest fine combed the premises. They’d found the body in the attic, and had guessed by the hole and the angle of the shot there was another gun that had gone missing.

  “We just want to ask you a couple of questions,” a friendly, burly officer said to us and pulled out a notepad. It was all too much like a movie.

  I told him that I had been up to visit Gavin and that he’d gotten upset about something I’d said. It wasn’t entirely untrue. I relayed what he’d said
about the stolen cars, and the officer nodded. He looked at Claire, asking her what had happened when she was down here, and she tried to explain. Halfway through she started hiccupping, closer to tears than I knew she felt comfortable with, and I took her hand and squeezed it.

  “She tried to wrestle the gun away from him, and in the tussle he must have pulled the trigger,” I finished off. Claire looked at me with wide eyes, and breathed in like she wanted to say something, but I curled my fingers tightly around hers and looked back at the officer.

  “Alright, thank you for your time,” he said, “are you going to be okay, ma’am?”

  Claire nodded, and I wrapped my arm around her, pulling her close.

  “We’ll be just fine, officer, it will be good to get home.”

  When he left the room, Claire looked up at me.

  “Why did you do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “Tell the officer Peter had pulled the trigger?”

  “It took me years to find you, Claire, and I had to do it twice. I’m not losing you again.”

  Her eyes lit up and she smiled at me, looking almost shy. I pulled her closer and kissed her on her head.

  “Honey?” her voice was thin and muffled against my chest, “no more guns, okay?”

  I smiled. Crazy woman.

  “No, sweetheart. No more guns.”

  Chapter Twenty-two - Claire

  I looked at him, his big hands on the wheel, his face serious as he focused on the road. The light was bright in the late afternoon, and everything was colored with a golden hue. He was softly humming to a tune that was playing on the radio.

  I had my feet curled up on the seat, feeling a little cold and a little lost, but it felt different than it had before. It felt like there was a way out of the darkness now, a little ray of hope that it would all be okay. Andrew was right here next to me, and I had no doubt anymore that he would be able to help me through.

  So he was a man, and he could be annoying, and we would probably still fight now and then because I knew I was difficult too. But it was okay. He was okay. We were okay.