Too Perfect Marriage – Part 7

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

“What’s your wife doin’?” said the driver.

“That’s not my…” Calvin shook his head. “I don’t know. She’ll be right back, though.”

“You better hope so, fair’s runnin.”

“She’ll be here in a sec, said she would.”

Calvin listened to “Bittersweet Symphony” on his Ipod again, and couldn’t stop replaying the kiss in his head. It’d been so long since the sweet ingredients of love had churned in his gut and been devoured by his heart. Marrying Bridgette was a blemish he’d been trying to paint around, but now that he was certain she was cheating and actively looking to kill him, brushing on a fresh canvas didn’t seem like such a condemn-able idea.

“Give her a call, buddy,” said the driver.

Calvin smeared his forehead. “Don’t know her phone number, believe it or not.”

“Ah, I see. Damn shame, thought you two looked good together. Good times end so fast.”

“You misunderstood. We’re gonna be together for the long run. Trust me.”

The driver adjusted his rear view mirror to catch a glance of Calvin, then sighed and turned away.

Calvin scoffed and shook his head. He tapped his fingers on his knee, then ripped the earbuds out and stuffed the Ipod back into his pocket. He checked the time – five minutes since she’d left. He ran a hand threw his hair, then fluttered his lips with an exhale and crossed his arms.

“Go in there and get her. Doin’ nothing for nobody, just waitin’ here,” said the driver.

“Be patient.”

“Huh?”

Calvin groaned, then whipped out a wad of bills from his pocket. He swatted them in the driver’s hand. “Here,” he said, then stepped out.

He paced toward the club with his head on a swivel. Shea said she’d be right back, but the fact that she hadn’t returned wasn’t a huge call for alarm – chances were, she had some choice words before parting ways with Brody and leaving his dirty dick for good.

Still, Calvin felt uneasy – he was convinced Bridgette and Brody were conspiring to kill him. He could afford to look for Shea, as long as he remained surrounded by others – narcissists murdered, but weren’t the type to ruin their reputations and risk prison time.

Calvin passed by people exiting the club, then made his way through the smokers near the back entrance. He tore the door open and came face to face with Brody.

“H-h-hey, Calvin! I was just looking for you.”

Calvin dropped back a step.

Brody proceeded forward, then swung his arm around Calvin and tugged him away from the club and toward an empty alleyway. “Your wife tells me you’re quite the guitar player-”

“Eat a dick,” said Calvin, throwing Brody’s arm from his shoulders. He turned around. Brody jumped in front of him.

“Easy, guy! … what’s with the constant hard-on for me?”

“Returning yours from my wife.”

The smokers outside raised their eyebrows and moved a little closer.

“What? Nooo,” said Brody. “What kind of monster you think-”

“Kind of monster who kills. I know about the gun.”

“What gun?” said Brody, with a chuckle. “Oh, you mean this?” He reached inside the flap of his jacket, withdrew a handgun, then casually pointed it at Calvin. “I like guns, so what.”

“Put that shit away,” Calvin said.

“Easy guy! you really think I would shoot you?”

“Thought Bridgette might cheat with a douche-bag, was right about that.”

Brody smiled. The smokers watched eagerly.

“This attitude of yours is very disheartening,” said Brody.

“I’m leaving with Shea.”

Brody quit smiling. “What?”

“That’s right. You can have Bridgette, she’s all yours. I want Shea.”

Brody scratched his temple and lowered an eyebrow. “But… why?”

“Because when you acted like a pompous ass in the limo she told me to ignore you, and that’s goddamn refreshing after being told ‘stop being an idiot’ for so fucking long. Because when I got my ass kicked by some clown inside she cared more about me being alright than how stupid she looked being the wife of a loser. Because when I say it’s a perfect moment, she makes it better.”

“But Bridgette’s a ten, and they’re both blonde, so…”

Calvin scoffed. “You’re a joke. Get out of my way,” he said, trying to move past.

Brody grabbed him by the arm, then yanked him close and jammed the gun barrel into his abdomen.

Calvin glared at him. “I’m not as funny as you think,” said Brody.

“Move the gun.”

“I’ll start with the trigger.”

Calvin forced his words through gritted teeth. “What kind of idiot kills in public? Look around, we’re surrounded. They’ve got cameras recording this.”

Brody didn’t flinch.

“Why kill me?” Said Calvin. “Take Bridgette, she’s all yours. Let me and Shea walk.”

“Nobody’s trying to kill you,” said Brody.

“Ditch the gun,” said Calvin.

“Problem’s Shea.”

“You don’t give a shit, you don’t even love her.”

“Not that simple.”

“We’ll see, guy,” said Calvin. He shoved Brody then hurried toward the backdoor.

“H-h-hey, buddy!” yelled Brody. “Think you’ve had a few too many!”

Calvin reached for the door, ripped it open, then lost his feet out from under him. Brody had tackled his lower half. The door fell closed, and Calvin found himself wrestling on the pavement.

“You’re not getting back at that guy in there!” said Brody. “Already caused a scene, now you’re embarrassing both of us!”

The onlookers didn’t intervene. Calvin struggled to peel himself free from Brody, who wouldn’t stop yelling.

“I won’t let you fight him! I can’t, you’re not in your right mind!”

Calvin managed to climb on top of Brody, then swallowed up Brody’s face with his palm. “Shut the fuck up!”

“You’re drunk!” said Brody. “Get off me, you’re drunk!”

Calvin reared back then slugged Brody across the face. Blood fired out from his mouth.

“Money don’t buy fists,” Calvin said, then tried to push himself up.

Brody grabbed Calvin’s white button down, then ripped him close and hissed into his ear.

“I’m not the breadwinner bitch.”

“What?”

“Shea’s loaded. Family inheritance.”

Calvin shook his head. “You’re talking out your ass-”

“Nothing to gain by killing you.”

Calvin’s heart raced. “So Shea is-”

“Dead,” said Brody, before taking a peek at his rolex. “Right about… now.” He laughed in his face, blood sputtering from his lips.

“No,” said Calvin. He shook his head, reached into Brody’s jacket, then yanked out the gun. “No!” He stood up and stormed into the club.

To be continued…

• Thomas M. Watt

CLICK HERE FOR PART 8 – FINALE!

“

Too Perfect Marriage – Part 6

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

“What?”

“The knife,” said Shea. She checked him up and down, then pushed her hand into his chest and walked away.

“Shea wait,” said Calvin. He jogged over to her, then grabbed her shoulder and spun her around. “What knife?”

Shea held her phone in one hand, and covered her eyes with the other. “Yes, hello? I could really use a cab, like right now… at Cherry Bumps, downtown. Ok, thank you so much.” She lowered the phone and gulped.

“Shea?”

“Men are liars,” she said. “All of you!” Her eyelids cracked open and tears leaked out.

“Tell me about the knife,” said Calvin.

“Who cares about the knife! How can you be okay with this? With them!”

“I’m not. But my wife and your husband are trying to kill me-”

“They already killed me.”

“What?”

“What’s wrong with me? Am I so ugly that every guy has to cheat-”

Calvin grabbed her hands. “Stop. You’re gorgeous… plus you know who The Verve is! And, maybe I’m out of line to say this, but I’ve enjoyed talking with you more tonight than… fuck it, any conversation that I’ve ever had with my wife.”

Shea blinked, and her pupils bounced from Calvin’s eyes to his lips.

“What?” he said.

“Nothing.” Shea brushed a blond hair behind her ear. “So… what are you gonna do?”

“Leave, maybe call the cops.”

“Right, because that’s what I meant.” Shea turned around, walked over to the sidewalk, then sat down on the curb.

Calvin hurried over and plopped down beside her.

Shea rubbed her elbows. “Please, don’t offer me your jacket.”

“You want to be alone?”

Shea rocked her head back and let out an exaggerated scoff. “I want a man who won’t cheat. That’s it.”

“I meant me.”

Her head swiveled to him and her eyelids snapped wide open.

“Do you want me, to leave?” said Calvin.

Shea faced the street between her feet and bit into her hand.

“Does that mean yes?” said Calvin.

“If you don’t want to stay, you should go.”

“It doesn’t feel right leaving you.”

Shea smirked.

“What?”

“I’ve enjoyed talking with you, too,” she said.

Calvin grinned.

Shea turned to him, and her words rattled between her teeth. “I called a cab… do you… what about you?” said Shea.

“I’m gonna call the cops. If those two are trying to kill me, they deserve to-”

“You’re an idiot.”

“What? Why?”

“Just don’t offer your jacket,” said Shea.

“You look cold. Take this.”

“I told you I don’t want your-” Shea cut short her protest when she noticed what Calvin held in his hand.

“Wow… you have a sense of humor… too.” Shea ripped the Ipod out from his hand. The song listed was “Bittersweet Symphony” by The Verve. “Why did you bring an Ipod to a night club?”

“Because I’m a one song kind of guy,” said Calvin.

Shea’s cheeks flushed red. She plugged one of the white earbuds into her ear, raised the second, bit her bottom lip, then handed that earbud to Calvin instead.

He smiled, stuck it in his ear, and they listed to the song together.

“How come you’re not freaking out?” said Shea. “I mean, doesn’t it bother you?”

“It does,” said Calvin. “Just not right now.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” He said, then scooted closer. “It should. My wife’s cheating on me, and your husband’s plotting to kill me.”

“So you are freaked out?”

“No,” said Calvin. “Because this moment, right now…”

“…yea?” Shea lost her eyes in his.

“It’s almost perfect.”

Shea bit her lips, then sniffed. “Yeah, I get that.” She laughed. “I mean, obviously it’s not going to be perfect with everything you’re going through. Because of you wife, right?”

“No.”

“Ah, my husband. Maybe if he wasn’t trying to kill you?”

“No. That’s not it..”

Shea folded her arms, shut her mouth and glared down at the pavement. “Oh. I get it. If another girl were here then it would be per-”

Calvin took hold of her jaw and turned her face to his. She shut her eyes and met with his lips, then boomeranged her arm around the back of his neck, tugging him closer and kissing him deeper. They finished kissing, but left their noses squished together.

“Now it’s perfect,” said Calvin.

“So,” Shea said, then gulped. “What now?”

“We leave. Together.”

“For the night?”

“Forever.”

Shea laughed. “That’s…” She quit laughing. “Perfect.”

A yellow cab pulled up and parked by the curb.

Calvin took Shea by the hand, and the two stood.

“What about them? The gun? The murder plot?” said Shea.

“Forget it. They can’t hurt me if I leave.”

Shea’s freckled cheeks lifted from her smile.

“You two ready?” said the cab driver, out the window.

“I’m ready,” said Calvin. “Are you ready?”

“Yea,” said Shea. “I’m ready.”

Calvin opened the door for Shea, whose hands stayed linked together at her waist as she continuously swerved her hips.

“Aren’t you coming?” said Calvin.

“Oh, yeah,” Shea said

“Well… what are you waiting for?”

“My moment,” Shea said. “I’m cherishing it.”

“Yo, got a job here guys,” said the cab driver.

“One second,” said Calvin, before returning to Shea. “I’m glad, but we really should get away before your husband tries to kill me.”

Shea laughed, then nodded. She stepped closer, kissed Calvin on the cheek, then giggled as she lowered her head and entered the cab. Calvin came in, shut the door, then held her hand.

“Where to?” said the driver.

They looked to one another. “Anywhere but here,” said Calvin.

“And step on it!” said Shea.

The cab driver shook his head. “You got it folks… hope you ain’t maxed out already.” He started off, and they were on their way.

“Wait!” said Shea.

The driver slammed the brakes.

She turned to Calvin. “The knife!”

“What about it?”

“I have to go back.”

“What? Why?”

Shea reached over him for the handle, shoved the door open, then crawled over his lap, stumbled onto the sidewalk and rushed back toward the nightclub.

“Just wait for me, I’ll be thirty seconds!” She called over her shoulder.

“What’s your wife doin’?” said the driver.

“That’s not my…” Calvin shook his head. “I don’t know. She’ll be right back, though.”

To be continued…

• Thomas M. Watt

CLICK HERE FOR PART 7!

Sunset – Part 4

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Coming to kill you.

D’angelo read the text, fumbled his phone back into his pocket, then spun around.

The purple civic passed by again, slowing as it drove by his studio apartment.

D’angelo ransacked his place – but he didn’t own a gun, and had no steak knives. He checked his closet.

“Dammit!” he said, tearing down four blue suits from the rack. That’s when it caught his attention – his high school baseball bag. He tugged it out from the closet, then opened the bottom slit. He slid out his Easton 777, an aluminum baseball bat. D’angelo tapped the barrel against the flat the wood panels on his floor, then stepped over to his door.

He grabbed his phone back out, and his thumb shook as he responded.

Come get it.

D’angelo slammed the front door and hopped down the stoop. He waited on the side of the road.  Screeching tires – purple civic had just slammed the brakes and come to a stop in the middle of the road. The driver flickered their lights on and off, taunting him.

D’angelo’s heart raced as he marched toward it. He clenched the bat firm and breathed heavy. The engine turned off, and the lights went out.

“I’ll kill you!” D’angelo yelled. “You hear me?” He swung the bat over shoulder, but the handle slid through his sweaty hand. The bat fell and rang out on the cement. “I’m not afraid of anyone!” He said, picking it back up.

D’angelo wiped the sweat from his brow. “Ain’t afraid a shit,” he muttered to himself.

D’angelo crept onward. Night had turned cool, so much so he could now see his own breath. The purple civic turned back on, and the lights switched to bright, blinding him. D’angelo shielded his eyes, then heard rubber burn. He braced for impact, then kept one eye open when forced himself to look – The wheels took the civic in the opposite direction. It backed off the road, over some grass, then plowed into a tree. The airbag deployed.

“Karma, bitch,” said D’angelo. He broke into a jog – then his phone beeped. New message.

Meet at McFlannigan’s.

D’angelo squinted at the purple civic. An overgrown man moaned and groaned his way out. He wore a brown raincoat and aviator sunglasses. He stumbled over to D’angelo.

Hiding his eyes were dark aviator sunglasses that had been shoddily glued back together.

“John?” said D’angelo.

John halted with a wobble. His phone was in his hand.

“You drunk, bro?”

“No, never, of course not. I do not drink alcoholic beverages. I’m not an alcoholic.”

“I met you at McFlannigans.”

John shook his head, then turned away and slid his phone back into his pocket. “Common misconception. Where we allocate may indicate certain characteristics of our personalities, but it does not dictate our actions.”

Another beep. D’angelo opened the new message.

Be there in 15 or I will kill you in your sleep.

D’angelo shook his head, then spit on the ground. “Hey, I got to go bro. Good luck with this,” he said, then turned and headed off.

“Wait!” said John.

D’angelo stopped. “What?”

“Where are you going, I was wondering?”

“What’s it to you?”

“Is it McFlannigans? Or will you just go to sleep tonight? It’s just a question, actually two, but that’s it.”

D’angelo knocked the end of his bat softly against the pavement, and stared at John with a single eye squint.

“McFlannigans.”

“Great! I’ll go with you.”

“Your cars here, bro.”

John turned, laughed at his car, then swatted at the air with his hand. “I’m quite sure, you know, that even if I leave it here, I will find it here, sitting and waiting for me, later, when I come back for it.”

John jogged over. D’angelo stuck his hand out when he got close.

“You’re stayin’, bro.”

“I know where you live,” said John.

D’angelo pushed his jaw out.

“But only because I watched you run there. I remained where I stood, don’t you remember? I was angry.”

“Whatchu want, bro?”

John stepped forward, and reached into the pocket of his raincoat. “I’m surprised you haven’t figured that out yet. I’ve been… straightforward.”

“You got a deathwish?”

John flipped his eyes down at the bat D’angelo held, then chuckled.

“Never said a joke, bro.”

“The bat. That is the joke,” said John. His hand remained in his pocket, angled straight at D’angelo. “If you knew what I was holding, you would know why I am laughing.”

“Why?”

“It will not help you.”

“I can knock skulls with-”

“Should have brought a shovel. Would have made things easier.”

D’angelo ground his teeth, then lifted the bat over his shoulder.

John flipped his hand out from his pocket, then unfolded a giant map of the world. “I’ve entered the coordinates. I know where our treasure is.”

To be continued…

– Thomas M. Watt

CLICK HERE FOR PART 5!

Master Update – 9/21

I know some of you are looking forward to Sunset Part 4 – Should be writing it tomorrow. Busy molding the ending to Master today, and I’m really thrilled about how it turned out.

Ellie Augsburger tells me her initial concept for the cover should be finished by the end of this week. I’m excited to see it. A cover will also make it much easier to promote.

I did a lot more writing than promoting this weekend. Pushing a book begins while you’re still writing it – The problem I’ve run into is a split personality, the artist and the promoter. The more time I spend on social media connecting with others, the more my mind is occupied with finding more effective ways to draw attention to my story.

Now that the story is (nearly) complete, I’m going to send the full manuscript out to four or five willing beta readers. The good news is that multiple parties have already read the first half, and they are just as enthusiastic about it as I am.

This isn’t the first time I’ve poured my all into a book, but it is the first time I’ve received overwhelmingly positive feedback. I’d like to think that the short stories I blog on here reflect my overall improvements as a writer.

Beyond that, I’m excited to wrap up Sunset this week. I’m happy with the ending I have in mind, I only hope I can find the right words to show it to you.

• Thomas M. Watt