13 comments/ 48124 views/ 1 favorites Wrong Side of Town By: Tail End Pete 1 George sat in his truck at the convenience store while finishing the last bites of his lunch; chili cheese hotdog, chips, and a soda. He wasn't a vain man, it was just out of habit he looked in the rear view mirror and ran a hand through his thinning brown hair. The brown eyes behind his thick glasses looked back at him while he neatened himself a little. He adjusted the mirror and got out to throw the trash away while thinking that it was time to go back to work. A lady's scream and the raised voices of more than one man caused him to look around, the garbage in his hand forgotten for a moment. This wasn't the greatest neighborhood he was in at the moment. The decaying blight on the main drag, closed store fronts and adult businesses, reflected the same bad times in the residences behind with their neglected yards and litter in the streets. On the corner opposite him, two black men had chased after and caught some girl. After knocking her down, one of the men was slapping her while the other casually watched. Judging from what he could see of her clothes, he guessed some prostitute was getting it from her pimp. 'Well, it doesn't really matter,' thought George. 'but I can't let them do that to her.' It wasn't a chivalrous attitude but his sense of right and wrong from all those Sunday School teachers from his childhood. He put the trash in the can provided for the purpose, even though it seemed to be a hit or miss proposition for most people, and decided to cross the street. He wasn't sure what he could or would do at the moment, he felt it was something he needed to do. He certainly wouldn't scare anybody at 5'8" and 160 pounds, but he did his work and stayed off the couch at home so he wasn't fat. He saw that the one man had taken notice of his presence and had watched him cross the street towards the fracas. He had opened his stance a little and was holding his hands away from his body. "Hey!" George said loudly as he neared. "What's up with this? It takes both of you to beat on a girl half your size?" The beating continued as he was ignored. Apparently the other was keeping watch and would be able to take care of George by himself. "Beat it cracker if you don't want the same," the first man stated. "You got no business here, so just keep on going." "Well, you're wrong there, buddy boy. Two assholes on a defenseless woman makes it my business. You'd both do well to just leave her be and walk away," George heard himself say. 'Now, where the hell had that come from?' he wondered as the first man squared up to take his head off with a huge right hand. George kept walking as though he didn't see the fist until he ducked at the last moment. He launched a spin kick that caught the out of position man high in the chest. It straightened him up and back causing him to grab at his chest and wonder if this was what a heart attack felt like. George knew it was one on two and it better end real quick, so he hopped to the side and kicked at the man's leg, catching the knee on the side and snapping one or two ligaments in there. He wouldn't be chasing anyone for awhile. He danced back from the groaning man who was rolling on the ground while clutching his broken knee and looked for the other man and the girl. It was a lucky move. He felt a slamming thud on the back of his shoulder which turned him around. If he hadn't moved, the blow would have knocked him out. As it was, it turned him around so he was facing his attacker for the first time. The whole fight had been silent with the only noise coming from the girl. Even with all the sweat on the man's face from over exerting himself on the girl, the big man hadn't said a word. George faked a stand up charge, but when the man came for him, George dropped and rolled right into his legs. The sweaty man lost his balance and fell forward. George reached up and grabbed his shirt and pulled him on down onto the ground. The man put out his hands to break his fall. George could only reach one arm, so he hit at the elbow as hard as he could. With only one arm down to break the fall, all the man's weight landed on that side. George heard the sick sound as the man's arm fractured. Getting up as fast as he could, he looked around for the girl who was laying on the street. Running to her, he grabbed an arm and yelled at her, "Let's get out of here quick. They might have some friends around." He got her up and moving towards the corner. Fate was with them as the light had just changed. George hustled her to his truck and pushed her into the passenger side. He ran around the front, jumped into the driver's seat, started the truck and pulled out of the parking lot down the street away from the fight. He'd noticed that both men were still down on the ground, although the one with a broken arm was sitting up and staring at him. He hadn't taken the time to look at the person he had saved from that beating back there. From the way he saw her shoulders shaking, he thought she must be crying. He saw dark hair, a t-shirt of some sort, and dirty jeans. It looked as though she had shoes on when he'd first seen them across the street, but he couldn't see from here what kind they were. He kept driving away from the area, turning corners every once in awhile to throw off any pursuers and keeping an eye on the rear view mirror. After a few minutes which felt like a lifetime and without seeing anyone behind them, he pulled to the side of the street and stopped the truck. They weren't so far away that she couldn't go back if she wanted, depending on where she lived. But here they would have a few minutes to decide. He noticed that her shaking had stopped and he didn't hear any noises, so she must have stopped crying. "Hey," he said quietly. "Don't worry about them now. They're back there somewhere, so you are safe for now. What do you want to do now? Do you need a ride someplace?" He watched her as she slowly straightened up in her seat, then she turned and looked at him through her tear stained face and his whole existence turned upside down and inside out. The air whooshed out of his lungs and his jaw gaped open. It was his wife. Wrong Side of Town Ch. 02 Thanks to all comments on my stories. This one is going to take a while to get through, so please don't be discouraged. * They sat staring at each other for an eternity, but was about a minute in real time. She nervously ran her fingers through her hair and sat up a little straighter on the seat. George could see a couple of old bruises around her jaw line, probably from being slapped around. She didn't look to be in really bad shape, or at least nothing that a change of clothes and a bath couldn't help clear up. A good meal probably wouldn't hurt either. "Well," George started. "It's nice to see you again, Lynn. I hope you don't mind if I don't ask how you've been. That much is pretty obvious. Can I take you home now to get cleaned up or would you rather I took you back to your friends?" After a moment Lynn said, "Yes, I'd like to get cleaned up and no, they weren't my friends. I suppose I should thank you for getting me out of there, even if it was your fault for putting me with them in the first place." "Me?" George exclaimed. "I've never seen those guys before! You're the one who left after that fight we had, what, eight or nine months ago. You could have called me to come and get you any time at all. "No, I couldn't. I don't want to get into it with you now, George. Just take me home so I can get cleaned up," she said as she turned to look out the door window. "We can talk later." George started the truck and drove them home. Lynn went into the house, dropped her clothes on the bed, and headed into the bathroom for a shower. George went to the phone and called work saying he wouldn't be back today. He went into the kitchen and after thinking for a moment, opened some soup cans for a light meal. He didn't know when she had last eaten and he didn't want to give her something heavy that she would throw up. He put some bread into the toaster and dug some sliced cheese out of the refrigerator for some melted cheese sandwiches. 'Good,' he thought. 'That's the bread, dairy, and meat food groups.' As he was putting her meal on the table, she came in with a towel wrapped around her head and wearing her old terry robe. She had the presence of mind to smile and say thank you as she sat down and began to eat. George sat in a chair at the end of the table and watched her eat. He didn't know what to think, his mind was awhirl with questions. Where had she been? Had she been hooking for those guys? Were they her pimps, or maybe just the one beating her? The other guy might have been the muscle. Or maybe he had their roles wrong. She didn't look too bad, he noted. She was eating with gusto, but she hadn't missed too many meals. Just then she looked up at him and smiled. Seeing the empty bowl, he jumped up and said, "Here, let me get you some more. I already ate so there is plenty more." "Thank you again," she said. "I didn't have breakfast so I was a little hungry. May I have another sandwich, too?" "Sure, hang on," he said as he put some more bread in the toaster. He dished up the rest of the soup and gave it to her. While she ate the soup, he put the pan in the sink to rinse out. Then he handed her the sandwich and put her dishes in the sink with the rest. He didn't run the dishwasher until after dinner anyway, so they could sit and talk. "Ok," he started. "Are you back now? Or is this rescue just some kind of breather for you until you decide to leave again? I didn't know it was you getting beat up." Cocking her head at him she asked, "Well, would it have mattered to you if you had known that it was me?" After thinking for a moment, he decided and said, "No. I still would have stopped the beating. But since it was you, I would have asked what you wanted to do. As it was, I thought I would get whoever away from those guys and take it from there." He sat back in his chair while they sat and looked at each other. "I see," she said. "You'd rescue somebody else, but with me you would have a conversation first. Ok, that seems fair. After all, it was me who left after that last fight. I really didn't plan on staying away this long." She looked around and said, "Let's take this into the living room." She arose and went in and sat on the end of the sofa. Her usual place when she was home. 'Old habits die hard,' he thought as he sat in the easy chair. He usually sat on the other end of the couch, but he felt he wanted to look at her as she talked. "If it is all right with you I'd like to recap a little bit to refresh our memories," he said pausing to see her short nod. "As I remember it, your hours were cut back at work. We needed the money, but you didn't want to find another part time job. I remember you saying that when your work gave your hours back, you didn't or wouldn't like to go to the other job and quit. Is that right?" "Yes, you remember it right. Having worked in a personnel office before we were married and moved here, I know the amount of paperwork involved in hiring and releasing employees. I didn't think it was fair to them. I was told that the reduction in hours was a temporary thing and would be called back 'soon' to my regular shift. I told you all of this, but you wouldn't listen to me." George nodded at that and replied, "That is true. We needed the money to pay off those doctor bills. I wanted to have that money to get the truck so you could have the car." "Yes, I see you got your truck. Where is the car, by the way?" "You left. I only need one vehicle to get around, so I traded in the car and got the truck. It is amazing how much stuff I can haul around in it without worrying about getting the back seat dirty." Looking stricken, she cried, "How could you trade in my car? That wasn't right. I didn't say you could trade it or sell it. What's wrong with you. You know that car was my parent's before they died and that is all I had left to remind me of them. You self-serving bastard! I'll bet you traded it in the day after our fight too, didn't you? Always have to be first and think about what you want and not my needs. You S.O.B.!" George had moved to the edge of his seat while she was ranting and waited for her to pause and then jumped in saying, "Hey, hey, hey, now just stop it. I didn't trade it until two months ago. I was waiting for you to come back, but you were gone." Then George hotly retorted, "I called your friends and went looking for you. I even filed a missing person report with the police. Now just back off here a little bit." He forced himself to sit back into the chair and take a couple of deep breaths. He had always had that hot temper and he knew he needed to keep it under control before she took off on him again. "You've been gone for over eight months. Not once did you ever call me or any friends to say you were all right. I waited six months on you and no word. I needed, not wanted but needed, a truck for work and you knew it. I haven't been doing things for me, I was doing them for us. Once we got the medical paid off and I got the truck, then I wanted to replace the car also," he stated. That pretty much recapped the arguments they'd been having. Then he continued talking a little slower, "Yes, I know it was your parents, but it was breaking down and I was putting in dollars and getting back dimes. I traded it in on the truck after which I had money left over and I paid those medical bills. The truck is also paid off. I've gotten more work since I got that truck and I'm working on Saturdays also to get caught up." She sat and looked at him. It had hurt a lot to see that the car was gone, but while he was talking she had finally seen the big picture. It seemed that life had continued on and they were both pretty much where he had said they would be at this point. "Ok, I'm sorry," she said quietly. "It looks as though I really screwed up here." He didn't say anything when she paused. "So, what do we do now? What is it you want to do? What about us? Is there even an us here to discuss?" "Well, I guess we should start with where you have been and what is it you have been doing? Who were those guys and how did you meet them? I think in order for us to go on, we need to really look at where we've been." "That is going to take a while I think. Don't you have to get back to work though?" "No, I called in and took off the rest of the day. Why don't you go get dressed? We can start then." "Oh, I figured you would have thrown out all of my belongings since I've been gone so long." "No, I didn't. I was really hoping you would be back. I just didn't know that it would take this long." "I didn't either, so thank you. Before I get dressed, though, I think you need to see me," she said as she stood up and opened her robe. She was naked underneath. He could see various bruises on her body, mostly on her breasts and around her nipples. 'Probably love bites,' he thought. She also had bruises on both thighs, mostly along her inner thighs. He wasn't sure about the bruises and the small cuts he saw on her ankles. After she thought he had seen enough, she closed her robe and waited to see if he had anything to say. "I'm sorry I had to see that," he said quietly. "Do you need to see a doctor or anything?" "Let me get dressed first, then we can talk again," she answered as she turned and left the room. George sat back in the chair to think. 'Did he want her back? Those were obviously bruises from rough sex. Would she prefer that to him now? What about long term effects on her or on their sex life? What about STDs?' He decided firmly, 'I want her back. I'm sure we can work through our problems. I really wish that it hadn't gotten this far out of hand.' Lynn went through her belongings in the bedroom. He hadn't touched a thing. Tears coursed down her cheeks as she thought about the things she had done over the months, and he had just sat here waiting for her to come back to him. It was going to be a long evening. Wrong Side of Town Ch. 03 Ahhh, fair readers, the story continues. Again, no sex. Sorry. The next chapter will be the last. These people are really too strange to let hang around any longer. Cheers. Oh, yes. Some of the best comments I have received on any story I submitted were by some person named anonymous. I can't answer the questions if I can't find the person who asked. So, since anonymous is still anonymous, the answer to your questions are: Yes, NO, sometimes, 43, 4 weeks and 3 days, depends on how I'm feeling, and if you liked the story you'll love the sequel. Tail End Pete 3 Lynn came back into the living room wearing an old faded sweatshirt and a pair of brown slacks. She'd put on a pair of old socks with no shoes. The towel on her head was gone and she had combed out her hair. She looked a lot better than she had a few hours ago. "Do you want something to drink?" she asked as she stepped into the kitchen. "Do we have any soda?" "Yeah, just a soda will be fine," he answered. She came back into the room and handed him a cold can before sitting back on the couch. After they sat a few moments, she stirred and then pulled her feet up under herself, coiling herself into that corner. "That last fight was a real heartache for me," she started. "On one hand, I understand what you are talking about when we discuss money, transportation, and other facts of life. I can handle discussions and talks like that as long as we are working on the basic routines of life, such as paying the electric bill and so forth. Unfortunately for me, and by default us, I do have a lot of emotional ties to some of the 'stuff' we have around here. I understood from a factual point of view that the car was a money pit. I just couldn't bear to see it go because it was the last tie to my parents. That fire, in all aspects, erased my entire life. It killed them and left a pile of ashes. We both knew that the car was worn out. It only survived because it was back in the shop again," Lynn said quietly. She sat quietly for a moment while sipping on her drink, then with a shake she sat back up. "Well, that is all water under the bridge," she continued on, "what's done is done. Now, about me." Again she paused, then said, "When I left here that night, I really didn't care where I was going. I just wanted away from the same old noise. I was mad at you for being right and I was mad at myself for harping on old crap that we couldn't do anything about." She looked over at him through her lashes and said quietly, "I'm sorry. I was a nagging bitch. I was letting stuff get to me and we were both stressed to the limit. Can you forgive me, please?" George put his soda down, stood and went to her. She stood up as he took her hands and they hugged each other for a moment. George was making 'it's ok, now' noises and rubbing her back with his hands. She stood and let him hold her close. The next thing she knew, she was sobbing uncontrollably. Her body was shaking as her sobs racked through her body, on and on and on. Months of worry, deprivation, abuse, and fear were cried out as she released her hold on her emotions. Strangely enough, she felt that everything would be all right now. She was safe. She was home. George must still love her or he wouldn't be holding her like this. After a time, she felt George shift around as he sat down on the couch and pulled her down onto his lap, still holding her close as she wept. After several more minutes, she felt more in control and sat up a little bit. George handed her some tissues and waited for her to pull herself together. She reached and put the tissues on the table and drank some soda. She put the can back on the table and leaned back onto George's chest and tucked her head under his chin. "Feel better now?" he asked quietly. "Yes, thank you. Do you want me to get off your lap?" "No, you're fine where you are. So. The fight is over now. Are you ready to explain where you have been?" She sat quietly for a moment then said, "Yes, we need to get it over with. Maybe you better go back to your chair, though. I'm not certain you will want me to be sitting on you while I go through this." George sat her back onto her seat and moved back to the chair. He sat and waited for her to go on. "As I said, I just wanted to get away. I walked towards town, but I went on the side streets. I didn't know if you would come after me or not, but I decided to not let you find me. Eventually, I found myself down by the James Boys Tavern. I knew you would never look for me in a place like that, so I went on in. Lucky me, it was ladies night." George nodded at her narration. Yes, he had finally driven around trying to find her. He didn't want her out at night alone. They lived in a blue collar neighborhood, but you still locked the doors at night. The James Boys Tavern was a seedy dive with a reputation for public disturbances (read fights), shady characters, and women of ill repute. 'Christ,' he thought, 'no wonder I couldn't find her. She knows me better than I know myself.' "It wasn't very crowded when I went in and I was able to find a seat at a quiet table for two on the side. I ordered a draught beer and sat there and thought. A few men came over to buy me a drink, but I sent them on their way." She stopped and looked him in the eye when she said, "I didn't go there to mess around, honest honey. I just wanted some alone time to calm down." She didn't move until he nodded that he understood. She didn't want him thinking she had gone looking for trouble. "It was almost closing time and I'd decided to come on back home. I'd had a few beers, but I didn't keep count. I stood to go to the ladies room. I guess it was a rather abrupt move, but I bounced into some man who was walking that way himself. He ran right into me and knocked me over. I must have banged my head on the table as I fell. I saw stars and then nothing." She paused for a moment, thinking and looking at the floor. She reached over and got her soda, then finished it off without seeming to know what she was doing. She jumped a little when George cleared his throat. She looked at the can in her hand as if amazed that it was there. She set it down and cleared her throat. Then she continued her story, "When I woke up, I was on a bed in some motel. I had an ice bag on the bump on my forehead. I also had a headache. I remember sitting up on the bed. I wanted to go to the bathroom. I hadn't made it before and I really had to pee. I didn't get to sit up, though. My stomach turned as I got really dizzy and then I puked. My God, that hurt a lot. At least I got it towards the waste basket and not all over the bed. Somebody picked me up in their arms and took me into the bathroom. He undressed me with one hand while holding me up with the other. When I was naked, he sat me in the bathtub and then filled it with water. When it was full enough, he used the motel soap and washed me head to toe. Can't say I blame him. The puke on me really stank, but I couldn't clean myself. I felt grateful for the bath. He pulled the plug, lifted me out, dried me off, and put me to bed. It isn't that I felt really out of it, but I didn't even see who it was taking care of me. Sometimes I remember that night, but it is more of a dream sequence. Anyway, I woke up the next morning with a head sore as hell, headache, hangover, no clothes, no money, and hungry. I got up and used the toilet, then I took a shower. When I came back out of the bathroom, a black man calling himself Joseph was sitting in the chair. He had brought breakfast for the two of us. I sat down at the little table, naked, and we ate. While we ate, he told me what had happened. It was he who I had bumped into the night before. He brought me to this motel and kept an eye on me. He hadn't touched me except to clean me and put me to bed. That was the good news. I now owed him for the room, owed him for whatever clothes he could or would find for me, and my share of the breakfast we had just eaten. That is how I met my pimp. He was the first to use me and he used me most of the day. After he used me, he beat me. He slapped my face and my boobs. He punched me in the stomach and my sides. After he was through beating me, he said that I now belonged to him. The second one to use me was Carl, his assistant. Carl was a rather dim bulb who totally loyal to Joseph and did what ever Joseph said. Carl also had a 10 inch cock. He used me once and only once. Joseph told me that if I did well, Carl wouldn't fuck me any more. But if I tried to steal or run away from him, Joseph said he would beat me after Carl fucked me and then kill me. Joseph has four other girls and e all worked out of the James Boys Tavern. The motel was out the back door and across the alley. Before you ask me, yes. Yes, I tried to get to a phone to call you. Yes, I tried to get away from them. They were always on duty when we were working. One of them was inside the bar and the other was in the alley. We got a man, took him to the room, fucked him, gave the money to who was in the alley, and went to get another man. Today was special. Two of the other girls and I were going to go to work for another pimp. Joseph sold us for 500 dollars apiece to a man he called Willie. Joseph said that Willie went through a lot of women in a short period of time. He had a nasty look on his face when he told us that. Anyway, Joseph took me and the other girls down to the corner to wait for Willie to come and get us. While we were standing there, I told Joseph that I had forgotten to get my purse. I ran back to get it, ignoring Joseph while he yelled at me, 'get back here, bitch'. When I got back to my room, Carl was in there fucking one of the other girls while some guy was watching them. I grabbed my purse and headed back to the corner. The guy who was watching Carl fuck the girl chased me down and was watching Joseph beating me when you showed up. That might have been Willie. I don't know. Anyway, I don't know where the other two girls were when I got back." Abruptly she stood up and then moved into the kitchen. She came back a few minutes later with another soda and resumed her position on the couch. After drinking about half of the soda, she looked directly at George and asked, "So, what now? Are you totally disgusted with me? I've been a 50 dollar an hour whore for the last eight months." George had been mulling over the story Lynn had been telling him. It all made sense and he could tell she hadn't lied to him about anything. "You are right to a point, Lynn. But the question "what now?", will have to wait for a moment or two," George replied slowly. "Do you know if you picked up any STD's? I can't believe that all of the people who used you, as you say,..." he had to stop speaking for a minute and collect himself. He was all torn up inside. His head was a spinning whirlpool of half formed thoughts and he felt ready to puke his guts all over the floor. He wanted to scream, rage, cry, and beat someone, anyone, with his fists until he couldn't move any more. Oh dear sweet lord, what was he going to do now? Lynn sat quietly, watching the emotional train wreck that was her husband. The look on his face was absolutely terrifying. She gave him time to calm down. When he had resumed some semblance of self control and had settled back into the chair, she rose and walked over to stand in front of him. He stared up at her, wondering what came next in this cavalcade of horrors. She held her hand out to him, her face giving nothing away. Slowly he reached up and took her hand in his, then stood as she tugged on his arm. Turning, she led him to the couch and gently pushed him down on the end where she had been sitting, without releasing his hand. She then slid sideways onto his lap, pulling his arm around her. She shifted slightly to get comfortable and rested her head back under his chin. Neither of them said a word. Slowly, quietly, time passed by as the couple sat there holding on to each other. Each was alone with their own thoughts, but totally aware of the other's presence. Finally, Lynn sat up straight and looked George in the eyes. "George, do you want me back?" she asked quietly. Wrong Side of Town Ch. 04 OK, this one is done. Finally. For those of you who hate stories that drag on, huzzah. Except, of course, Fillmore's Oil of Roses. I hope that one never ends. Thanks to all who constructively criticize, but just to a point. I'm no lawyer, I just put people into a little world I thought up and let them take the story whereever it wants to go. Yes, I do use spellcheck and a dictionary and a Thesaurus as well. * 'Damn women,' George thought angrily, 'can't live with them, can't live without them, no deposit, no return.' He rolled over in his bed and looked at Lynn sleeping peacefully, then slid out of bed and padded into the living room. He slumped on one end of the couch, punching one of the little pillows into a more comfortable position as he lay back on the arm. It had been five months now since he had found Lynn and brought her back home with him. Five months since he found his wife being beaten on a street by a pimp and his enforcer. He'd listened to her story and found it plausible. He'd made doctor appointments for her and had asked that she be tested for all kinds of diseases. He'd known Dr. Baker since he was a child. Well, ol' doc had delivered him into this world, after all. She had a case of Syphilis and some 'residual diarrhea', whatever the hell that was, but no AIDs or anything else. Doc had also told them that she had scars from the rough vaginal and anal sex she'd been subjected to, but it wouldn't cause her any problems with having children. If indeed they wanted children. He did seem somewhat surprised that she hadn't been forced onto hard drugs to keep her in line. That was the usual practice. He also confirmed that the scars on her ankles were from the plastic handcuffs Joseph used to tie her to the bed when she wasn't working. He'd kept her purse and her clothes and locked her up in the motel room until it was time for her to go to work. Then he'd cut off the plastic cuffs, hand her clothes back, and take her to the bar for work. "Well," Dr. Baker said, "plastic cuffs were a damn sight cheaper to acquire than hard drugs. This way if they were busted, they wouldn't be facing any drug charges. Plus if she wasn't found wearing the cuffs, it would be a simple case of he said, she said as to whether she was kept captive or kidnapped." 'Christ, eight months of hooking for Joseph and only one case of clap,' he thought. He'd known guys in the Army who'd been there done that every month. And, after all, she'd been forced into it. There was no doubt of that. George had been vigilant since he brought her home, but had not noticed anything or anybody out of place in his neighborhood. He'd wondered for a while how much Willie was pissed about not getting her since he'd paid Joseph, but George figured that the problem was Willie's and Joseph's, not his. He had changed his working hours some so he was leaving and coming home at different times and he tried to take different ways back and forth to work. He'd also talked to his cousin Larry over in Junction City about borrowing a gun, and then he had stashed it, loaded, in the back of the house. He didn't know how long he would have to be watching his back, but after this much time, he was thinking that things had blown over and they were safe. Of course, Joseph did have her purse with her ID in it. Well, rather safe than sorry, he'd keep his guard up for a while longer. No, it was just that after this long with her back in the house he still had problems thinking about her with all of those men. Every night of the week, bringing home as many men as she could fuck and then giving the money to Joseph. That was a hell of a lot of sex. He knew that the AIDs would show up at the six month mark at the latest and it had been five months now. She wasn't positive so far, thank God, and she had taken her fifth test last week. So why couldn't he make love to her? She hadn't forced herself on him, choosing to let him make the choice for them. He had held her, cuddled her, stroked her back, let her know he was there and she was safe, but he hadn't made a move to have sex with her. Not even a blowjob, even with a condom. He wasn't sure he wanted to know what tricks she had learned while away. 'To go from multiple times nightly to nothing overnight and then longer must be hell on her,' he thought. 'Maybe we should have gone in for some marriage counseling or something when I got her back home. I think I will talk to her about setting it up when I get home tomorrow from work. Maybe a third party could help him sort out some of his feelings.' Finally feeling a little better, he went back to bed. He did have to get up early tomorrow for work. The next day at work, Jimmy the new guy was getting a box in the back room when everyone heard him scream in pain. George was one of the first ones back there and was moving the box off of him when Harold his boss arrived. Jimmy had slipped off a stepstool and landed on his back with the box on top of him. After they got him up and looked him over, they decided that maybe he had dislocated his shoulder. He didn't have any obviously broken bones. He would have some nasty bruises for a while, that was for sure. "George, take Jimmy to the hospital and then take him home after that," said Harold. "I don't want him to work any more today. After that, just go on home and I'll see you tomorrow." Then turning to Jimmy he said, "You just take it easy for a couple of days. I'll take care of the workman's comp paperwork. Don't worry about your job or anything else, just get healed up, ok?" Jimmy said, "Okay." George nodded and helped Jimmy out to his truck. Two hours later, George helped Jimmy to his front door and explained what had happened to Jimmy's wife, Maureen. After he gave her the pills for Jimmy from the doctor, George drove on home. When he got to his street, he kept driving past the house. A black foreign car was sitting in his driveway and he didn't know who owned it. He also noticed that all the curtains were closed across the front of the house. With a bad feeling in his heart and a cold block of ice in his gut, he drove around the block. He pulled into the alley and drove slowly until he was behind the neighbor's house. He stopped and turned off the motor. There were trees, shrubs, and board fences along the alley. He was sure he could get to the back of the house to see what was going on inside. His cousin's gun was just inside the back door in a closet. He moved into his back yard and waited a moment between his garden shed and the lilac bush. He didn't see anyone in the yard and these curtains were all drawn also. 'Crap,' he thought. 'Let's just hope the back screen door is still unlocked'. He edged up to the door and gave it a tug. It was unlocked. Pulling the keys from his pocket he quietly unlocked the inside door and moved into the mud room. He stood still and listened for any sounds, but all he could hear was the pounding of his pulse. He retrieved the gun from the closet, checked it again to make sure that it was loaded, and slipped the safety off. His hands were sweaty and he gripped the gun tightly so it wouldn't slip. Then he quietly opened the door into the kitchen and looked to see whether anyone was waiting as a lookout. Nobody was there. Good. He moved through the kitchen towards the living room and could hear low murmuring sounds. It didn't sound like a conversation. He dropped to his knees before looking around the door. He saw some naked black guy sitting in his easy chair looking towards the sofa and stroking his dick. 'That must be Willie,' George thought. 'Looks like the shit is going to hit the fan.' George held his position for a moment listening to the sounds. Now that he was closer, he realized it was the sounds that Lynn made when they were making love. Just then, Willie stood up and moved towards the sofa. "All right now," he said. "Carl, you just hold her tight on your black snake. I know you got her pussy stretched out, so let me see if I can tighten her back up for you. Grab her ass cheeks and hold her open. You just relax now bitch, and let ol' Willie check your plumbing for you." Then he laughed. It was a cold evil sound that made the hair on the back of George's neck stand up straight. He lifted the gun up in front of him using both hands to keep it steady. It was a S&W .38 and was the heaviest gun he had ever held. He heard a muffled scream and guessed that Willie had just invaded her poop chute. "Ha, bitch," Willie laughed again, "you thought I was going to lube you up first, didn't ya'. Well guess again, whore. Willie likes a tight ass and lube don't make it tight. You ought to know by now that I'm not your wimpy ass husband. I do what I damn well want to with my whores." George heard the slap slap of balls on wet ass as Willie pounded Lynn. A cold rage filled him as he heard what was going on, but he wasn't sure how he could get her out of there while they were still using her. Then Willie said, "C'mon Joseph, quit messin' around and dump your load down her throat. She's going to lick her shit off my dick when I get through and I don't want you standing in my way." That was too much. He couldn't stand it anymore, so George rose up off of his knees and stepped all the way into the room to cast a quick look around. It was just the three of them fucking Lynn in her three holes. Joseph was the first to spot him and his eyes opened wide when he saw the gun. He didn't have a chance to say anything before the slug went through his head. The noise caused everyone to jump, including George. He had to re-aim and was looking at the back of Willie's head when Willie leaned down and forward over Lynn's back. It didn't matter. George pulled the trigger and brains and blood spattered all over the living room wall. He moved slightly to the side to take out Carl, but it didn't matter. He stood and looked at Carl and Lynn. Oh, shit. The bullet had gone through Willie and then both of them. Putting the gun down, George moved to call 911. The police detectives and crime unit were in his house the rest of the evening. They took George to the station for questioning. Phone calls were made and inquiries were answered. Time moved slowly for George. He replayed the whole scene in his head, over and over again, like some cheap porn flick that was stuck on permanent replay. Finally, Larry arrived from Junction City still wearing his uniform. He looked at George for a moment then asked, "You okay George?" Slowly, George nodded his head and answered, "Yeah, I'm fine. Physically, anyway. I think I'm going to be fucked up in the head for awhile, but yeah, I'm okay." Larry watched him carefully while he answered, then said, "They're all dead, but I guess you knew that. I didn't know that a bullet from my gun would go through three heads at one time, but damn, I do now. Hell of a way to find out that little fact." He stood still for a moment then added, "I'm really sorry about Lynn. If it is okay with you, I'll make the funeral arrangements for her. The rest of the family doesn't need to know the details of what happened. You just leave that part to me." He turned to leave the room then said, "Oh, and Harold said you get the next two weeks off and he'll see you when you get back to work." Then Larry nodded as if he was mentally checking things off on a list, and then he left. Detective Watson came into the room as Larry left. "Damn, George. I didn't know your cousin was the Police Chief over in Junction City. I gave him back his gun. We don't need anything else from you. No charges will be filed against you since a jury would just toss the case out anyway. Temporary insanity, jealous rage, whatever some lawyer would call it. I'm really sorry you lost your wife, but I'm damn glad those other three are gone. You are free to go. One of the guys will give you a ride home." Then he got up and left the room. George sat still for a while, feeling a hundred years old. 'Well,' he thought, 'guess I don't need to worry about marriage counseling.' Then stopping himself short he thought, 'I wonder who I can get to help me clean up the mess?' Then he vomited all over the floor.