A Trinity of Wicked Tales- Jilted

by Kyla Ross

  “Fuck,” Trev whimpered. He shuddered as icy sweat trickled down the sides of his face. His body quaked and his eyes moistened. In truth, he and Suzie celebrated his new drug dealing career by doing the heroin in a couple weeks’ time.

  Trev’s return to reality was interrupted by a burst of laughter.

  “Oh, wait. You decided to use that shit, right? Just say fuck my money, huh? Make me look for you, trick you into coming here? I don’t like when people think that because they’re your friend they can get away with not paying you. So your junkie bitch promised to lure you here, for a fix. That’s all it took. You stole from me and then cowered like a bitch and hid! You made me look for you! I don’t look for junkies! They look for me! Sorry, bro.” Trev flinched when Rodney patted at the cables wrapped around his chest. “Well, no. No. No. No. I am not sorry because you ain’t shit. Nothing but a piece of fucking junkie smut! Take care of this asshole, Vinny. I don’t want to ruin my new shoes.”

  One of the men carried a candle closer where Trev tried to kick and pull limbs from the table. Trev could now make out the ceiling. It was cement with old cables and rusty pipes zigzagging throughout. Countless cobwebs took up residence between the gaps where the pipes met. He realized this was the last thing he would see. There was no way he’d get out.

  The big man who escorted Trev into the basement, Vinny, walked over to the end of the table, where Trev’s head bucked and bobbed. His sweaty, stringy hair flapping every which way. Vinny crouched, picked up something and lifted it over Trev’s face. A cinderblock. The stones embedded throughout the cement block glimmered in the candlelight.

  Trev howled and squirmed trying once more to shake free. The men laughed at his efforts. Failing, he decided he couldn’t plead or speak. He could only hold his breath. He braced his body into the table hoping Suzie would come back with the gun.

  Yeah, right.

  Trev started to whimper. Mom and Dad would be looking for him soon, wanting to persuade him to try rehab again. But instead of dragging him to a lousy rehab session, they’d be burying him. And he’d have a closed-casket funeral for sure. That’s if they ever found him. He imagined some kids being knocked off their bikes by the smell of rotting flesh as they rode past the creepy house on a hot summer day, months from now.

  Then, the gory image from earlier flashed before his eyes. The faces of the people he’d killed less than an hour ago was his last high. The power over life and death was terrifying but empowering. But who would trust a sloppy, murdering, forgetful junkie with any sort of supremacy? Trev felt a new hatred for himself. Everyone would be happy that he was dead. Even Suzie, who he’d lived to please. No doubt she’d move on to a new guy, make him love her, then turn him over to their drug dealer once he became a risk or there was no use for him anymore.

  “Any last words, Trev?” Rodney asked. His voice seemed far away. An echo in Trev’s migraine.

  “Please…” Trev sobbed. “Please, not like this, Rod.”

  Rodney shushed Trev, patting him gently on the cheek. “Goodbye.”

  Vinny dropped the cinder block, and it hit with a sickening smack.

  Iris

  Natalie’s red locks rested on the evergreen silk sheets across her California king. Her eyes wandered along the cusp between the gold trimming and off-white ceiling of the master bedroom. The room was filled with darkness and silence as she lay quietly, focusing on her breathing. She hadn’t moved a muscle for the last couple of hours. In her more or less meditative state, she found herself harping on the first conversation she’d had with her childhood therapist.

  “He will be mine. We belong together. He is so perfect and I know he wants me, too,” said Natalie as she stood in front of the bay window, glaring at the public park that sat across the busy street. It offered a decent view for the office, which was on the eighth floor of the office building, which towered over the surrounding area. The morning sun’s rays coated the colorful flowers and decorative trees that lined the walkway with an orange glaze. The park’s patrons were beginning to appear. A few women were speed walking in yoga pants, chattering away. Maybe they were discussing their plans for the day. Natalie wasn’t sure.

  “How do you know, Natalie?” asked the therapist. She sat in a navy-blue leather armchair with her legs crossed, holding a clipboard and a pink pen with feathers. Her gray eyes were concentrating on Natalie, peering over the gold frames of her glasses. Natalie always wondered why Dr. Gabby even wore glasses. She always looked over them, not through them.

  “How do you think he feels about you hitting his girlfriend on the head with a padlock? Surely he may have some ill feelings about you now. You hurt someone that he cares about.”

  “He loves me. He told me so. He was only with her to make me jealous,” Natalie protested. She was still fixated on the vacant park outside, trying not to become annoyed. She didn’t understand why people couldn’t see.

  “When did he tell you that he loved you?”

  “At Tommy’s party, when we made out in the closet.” Natalie sat down on the navy-blue chaise longue that sat in front of the bay window. She straightened her back and lifted her chin. She looked into Dr. Gabby’s piercing gray eyes and held her gaze. She had to be prepared to defend her actions, just as she did when she told the police why she did what she did to that girl.

  “Did you tell him to say that?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then that is why he said it. But I know for a fact that he does not.”

  “He will.”

  Natalie convinced that her mental and emotional state had matured since then. She held a position as a marketing executive for an automotive parts supplier, she drove a luxury vehicle that cost nearly as much as where she lived, which was a posh condo in the most expensive suburb in metro Detroit. Her life would be considered perfect in the eyes of the average woman of her age. Everything seemed to be perfect except for her relationship as of late.

  The thought of Jason still being out at 11 pm on a Thursday was infuriating. He had been staying out late after work since Monday. Natalie would ask him where he’d been and he would just say he had to work late. Of course, he was lying. He would blink excessively and avoid eye contact. She tried not to investigate, as that had led to a boy being seriously injured during her teen years. She recalled another conversation she had with her therapist years after the first incident.

  “So what happened between you and Theo, Natalie?” asked Dr. Gabby. She was wearing the same gold-framed glasses, giving Natalie the familiar over-the-frames scrutiny.

  Natalie threw her back into the familiar navy-blue chaise longue. She slouched down until her lower back was hanging over the edge of the cushions, her toes facing inward. Her eyes darted up at the therapist, who was still waiting for a response.

  “His friend came up to me in the lunch line, of all places, and told me Theo wanted to break up with me,” Natalie began, still slouching uncomfortably on the couch. “I tried to talk to him, but he was avoiding me and not answering my phone calls. I went to his house and tried to talk to him, but his parents told me that he wasn’t there. I knew he was there! He was always home when he wasn’t at practice, playing video games.”

  Natalie leapt up onto her feet and paced back and forth across the baby-blue carpet. She could feel her face getting hot and her blood pressure rising.

  “I mean, what the fuck!” Natalie’s pacing turned into stomping. “How could he just leave me? How could he have his friend come and say it’s over? After all of the things I did for him, he just dumps me like it meant nothing!”

  “What did you do for him? Can you give me examples?”

  “I made him lunch and brought it to school every day. I walked him home! I washed his jock straps! I gave him my allowance! I would sneak out every night to surprise him at his bedroom window! I called him every day before school, after school, and all day on the weekends! And what does he do? He dumps me! All I think about is him! All I care about is him!”

&n
bsp; “So why did you stab him?”

  Natalie’s stomping stopped abruptly. She glanced over at the therapist, who was sitting in her leather armchair with her legs crossed. She was holding the same clipboard and pink pen covered in feathers, just as always. Dr. Gabby never took her eyes off of Natalie, watching her. Judging her.

  “Because...” said Natalie, then she forced out a sigh.

  “Were you trying to kill him?”

  “No.” Natalie walked back over to the leather couch and threw herself onto it, extending her limbs across one arm of the seat and stretching her back across the other. Her neck and head were hanging loosely over the edge of the couch with her hair hanging about an inch from the floor. “I don’t know. He hurt me, so I wanted to hurt him,” she replied. She felt the blood rush to her skull as the truth materialized.

  “Well, you did. Can you tell me what happened?”

  “I was hiding in the bushes at his house, you know. Just waiting for him to come home. I really wanted to talk to him. I wanted to know what I could do to make things right. I knew that if I wanted to talk to him, I would have to catch him off guard.”

  Natalie realigned herself, sitting up properly. She then scooted up to the very edge of the couch, digging her elbows into her thighs while resting her chin on her hands.

  “A cheerleader dropped him off in front of his house. As soon as he reached the stairs of the porch, I left my hiding spot and ran up to him.” Tears began to roll down her face. She felt her heart pounding against her chest. “He told me to leave him alone. He seemed… afraid of me. Like I was some kind of monster. I begged him to tell me why he didn’t want to be with me and he said… he said I was a creepy bitch and that he was scared of me. He said I acted like a stalker. I hate that word. I hate it!”

  Natalie jumped up and began to pace the office, allowing her tears to create a faint path of mascara down her cheeks. “I-I-I hate that word! I hate it so much. So I pulled the knife out of my pocket and stabbed him!” Natalie’s heart pounded at a faster tempo, she could feel the resonance in her throat. Her face became drenched with tears as she relived the event from a few days before. It was as if she was stuck in time; she hadn’t noticed she had started crying.

  “I don’t even know where I stabbed him. I just know that he screamed and ran from me. I was in shock, so I sort of just stood there. His mom opened the door to find him screaming and running down the walkway. He was screaming, ‘Help! This crazy bitch stabbed me!’ The neighbors called the cops. And… I just stood there! I couldn’t believe it was really over.”

  “Why did you have the knife? Did you go there intending to stab him, Natalie?”

  Natalie moved over to the office window to catch a glimpse of the park. The sunlight glazed over the families of children and adults alike. Some were having picnics, walking pets, tossing the ball. Natalie hated it when others were happy when she wasn’t. Their joy and laughter made her feel like an outcast. As if she’d never felt pure happiness before, or simply forgot what it felt like. The tears continued to roll down her face.

  “Natalie?”

  She answered the therapist while keeping her eyes trained on the park’s patrons, “If he didn’t say we were getting back together, then yes.”

  Though she tried her very best not to follow Jason, she eventually gave in to the urge. She followed him from work to a flower shop, where he picked up a woman. She was blonde with long legs, curves that were accented by her yellow sundress, dark eyes, a contagious smile. She was beautiful. Natalie followed them to a nearby restaurant—Natalie’s favorite rooftop Italian restaurant. She watched on in horror as she was betrayed. Driving home, she cried and thought of what life would be like without Jason. Her body tightened and her heart sank. She couldn’t get used to the idea of ending a life she’d built with someone. An amazing life at that.

  Natalie had given up on men until she found Jason. After the incident with Theo, she spent time in a detention center for assault, where she studied and stayed out of trouble. She had gone through college without any suitors, dates, or even sex. This seemed to work, until Jason came along. Jason was a tall, slim, olive-toned, God-fearing man who’d catered to Natalie from the start.

  They first met at a Feed the Children event that her company sponsored and his church volunteered at. Jason was taken by her beauty. She was tall, with ruby-red locks and emerald-colored eyes. She wore a business suit that complemented her curves, showing off the results of her workout regimen and strict diet. Her pale, clear-skinned face and deep red lipstick almost reminded him of Snow White. Jason approached her and made small talk. The conversation intrigued Natalie, as she thought he was sexy and witty. She got lost in his dark, almond-colored eyes.

  It forced her to give him a chance. She didn’t want the back and forth to end with him as she did with everyone else who had approached her. She accepted his number, thus beginning the texting and nightly phone calls followed by extravagant, expensive dates. That had been four years ago. Every day of the four years since had marked a new adventure.

  They would go on exotic vacations—horseback riding, canoeing, hiking, and skiing, all things Natalie enjoyed. Jason was the yes man she’d always wanted, and Natalie catered to Jason’s needs, just as Jason catered to hers. So what had changed? Natalie grew flustered. How could things have been going so perfectly for four years and change to Jason staying out late for the past four days and taking a beautiful blonde out to dinner?

  Now the clues all made sense. Jason smelled of some woman’s perfume when he came home the night before. Whiffs of irises—Natalie’s favorite flowers. She began to tear up. Her thoughts put her in a whirlwind. Natalie felt like she couldn’t breathe. The feeling of betrayal was much too great for her to control.

  Natalie looked over at the antique wooden clock on the nightstand. 11:11.

  She took a deep breath and exhaled. Natalie raised herself out of bed, walked into the kitchen, and opened the wine cooler. She grabbed a bottle of merlot and a wine glass, filled the glass to the brim, and chugged the wine. She filled the glass again and chugged it down once more.

  Tears rolled down her rosy cheeks. She dry heaved, trying to fight the incoming anxiety attack. She tried to relieve herself by slowly inhaling and exhaling, but it wasn’t working. Her nerves were only getting worse. She filled the wine glass again and chugged. That familiar emotion she’d felt as a teenager all those years ago was alive and kicking. Her face was hot and her heart was pounding. There was a knot in her throat and her muscles quacked. She was losing control of her love life once again and it was unacceptable. Natalie rocked back and forth with her hips rubbing against the granite countertop. She sobbed.

  Natalie pushed herself away from the counter and hurried into the living room, where her phone rested on the suede loveseat. She snatched it up and called Jason while making her way back into the kitchen. No answer. Natalie launched the phone into the granite kitchen wall. The stone smashed it to pieces.

  Natalie paced from counter to counter, digging the heels of her bare feet into the marble tile.

  “I vowed to never let a fucking man make me lose my mind again!” she yelled. Natalie grabbed the bottle of wine and shoved the spout against her lips. She sucked it down, nearly drowning herself in her haste. She looked peered at the shimmering wall clock. 11:19.

  After slamming the bottle on the counter, she opened her hands and lay them on her face, then pulled them down slowly, swiping tears and smeared mascara. A jolt of anxiety and confusion shot through her chest. She took another deep breath and abruptly exhaled then glared around the kitchen.

  He would risk all of this.

  Her eyes fell on the gourmet knife rack. She inched towards it and caressed the wooden handle of the meat clever. She pulled it out. The shearing against the wood was eerily refreshing. Hoisting it before her face, she studied her reflection and said, “You won’t have your cake and eat it, too. You won’t have anything. If you hurt me, I will hurt you more.”
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br />   She tilted the knife, concentrating on the streaks of mascara running down her cheek and the eyeliner that covered small segments between her eyelashes and eyelids; most of it had been washed away. She admired her deep green eyes and the red lock that rested on the side of her round face.

  The jingling of keys fussing with the doorknob interrupted her self-loathing. Gliding for the living room, she watched Jason enter. He reeked of irises.

  “Hey, hun. What are you still doing up? Are you okay?” he asked as she continued towards him.

  She held the cleaver behind her back and wrapped her other arm around his neck. She planted her lips on his cheek, then whispered, “I love you.” She released him and stepped back.

  “I lov—” Jason stopped when Natalie raised the cleaver. “Natalie, what— what—!” He stumbled backward. Before he could react, the clever punctured his shoulder. “No!” he wailed and slammed back into the door. He grasped his shoulder, looking on in horror.

  “You think you can leave me here alone! You think you can cheat on me! You think I’m going to let you get away with this, Jason? Over my dead fucking body!” Natalie yelled.

  “Please,” Jason sobbed as he grasped his wound, shaking with eyes big as saucers. “Why would you do this to me?” he sobbed. “Please, Nat, please, put the cleaver down.”

  Natalie forced the blade into his chest. Jason slid down the door. He rested uneasily on the floor, watching blood inch out, covering the Cherrywood floor underneath him. His mouth hung open.

  “Please,” he said softly. “Please, please. Don’t kill me, Nat. Please, call an ambulance. Please, help me.”

  “Call an ambulance? Help you? Fuck you, you cheating bastard! I know about your whore! How do you explain that?” Natalie snarled. She contemplated hacking him again.