The Thunder Rolls

By: Neenie

Brian paced the living room, his hands clenched tightly at his side. Images, horrible images, passed through his mind of what could’ve happened to her. Chills run down his spine as he pictures her, his wife of 2 years, lying in a hospital bed with shards of glass in her face. He shakes the image out of his head. “No, not even thinking like that,” he mumbles as he opens the curtains slightly to look at the driveway. All he sees is nothing.

The rain begins to fall heavily as he waits. He bit his nails down to the skin, not realizing the small spots of blood forming on the side of this thumb. “Where the hell are you?” he asks.

He walks over to the phone, picking it up and holding it to his ear. He debates on whether or not he should call her then decides against it. She doesn’t know he’s home and waiting. He came home two days early to surprise him. Unfortunately, he was the one surprised when he entered his home to find it empty. He changed into a pair of old flannel pajama bottoms and an old gray Kentucky Wildcats T-shirt, made a cup of coffee and waited.

Brian figured she was out with the girls. Where else could she be on a Thursday night? She had very few friends, he knew all of them. Didn’t he? New thoughts entered his head, which he quickly shook from his mind. She would be with someone else, would she?

He quickly decided that, no she wouldn’t be with someone else. One of the girls was having a girls night and she didn’t bother to tell him because he wasn’t supposed to be home. “That sounds good about right” he nodded, making his way to the window again.

He jumped back slightly, with the crack of the lightning. It lit the black sky, showing the leafless trees and desolate street outside. No headlights, no street lights… Only thunder, lightning and rain.

Brian walked around the house, smiling at how immaculate she kept it. He ended up in their bedroom, for the second time that night. He crossed over to her dresser where their wedding picture sat. He picked it up, smiling at the look on their faces that day. He remembered it like it was yesterday. The image of her walking toward him down the long aisle of his church is something he’d never forget.

He headed back towards the living room to keep a vigil by the window. Brian was determined to stay up for her.

Another two hours go by and she still wasn’t home. The earlier visions he had in his mind were back but worse. What if she was wrapped around a tree somewhere and n one knew where she was. What if she was stuck with a flat on the side of the road and a maniac pulled up to help her. His stomach churned with the thoughts that clouded his mind.

Once more he pulled the curtain back. His mind was made up, if he saw nothing he’d get into his car and drive around looking for her. He peered out the window and in the distance he saw what he believed to be a bright light headed his way. He stared intently at the light, watching it grow closer until it separated into two separate lights. Then he recognized it. He recognized her car. It was the one he got her for their first anniversary.

Brian sighed a big sigh of relief when the car pulled into the driveway and the lights turned off. A smile spread across his face as he walked over to the front door. He pulled it open, his smile widening if possible, walking out into the rain and grabbing her in his eyes after he reached the car.

“Brian, my god, what are you doing home?” she asked between kisses. “I didn’t expect you for another couple days.” She couldn’t help but laugh, the two of them must’ve been a sight. Soaked to the bones, they stood in the front yard holding each other.

“I missed you so much,” Brian whispered to her, refusing to let go. “I had road trips, they suck. I won’t be away this long next time, I promise.” She nodded against his shoulder, loving the way his arms felt around her. “Where have you been, I was so worried about you.”

“Stace had a girl’s night at her house so we were all there. She told me to stay at her place for the night because of the weather but I came because I knew you’d get worried when you called in the morning and there was no answer. I missed you,” she said, pulling him back into her arms and burying her face against his shoulder. “I can’t believe you’re here,” she said.

There was something about the way she said it. It sounded as though she was slightly disappointed he was home a few days early.

“Are you okay, Kris,” he asked, pulling away from her slightly. He searched her eyes through the darkness, unsure of what he’s seeing before him. Doubt, fear, lies, deceit. The lightning flashed lighting up the dark sky once again on this nice.

It was the first time he got a good look at her.

She knew. She knew he knew where she really was that night. “Brian, I can explain,” she said, watching as he walked away from her. “Brian, wait.”

“Wait? Kristi, I’ve been home worried sick about you, you have no idea what I’ve been thinking, for the past five hours or so, pacing back and forth, wondering if I should call you or the hospital or the fuckin morgue and where were you? You were off fucking someone. Am I right?” he asked, staring at her from his spot on the bottom step in front of their home. “Am I right?” he screamed, his anger reaching a new peak when he noticed her flinch.

She didn’t answer, she didn’t know what to say. She stayed exactly where she was when Brian first met her only minutes before. “I asked you a question,” he said stepping off the bottom step and walking towards her. “Am I right?”

Her bottom lip quivered, more from fright than anything else. Very softly, barely audible, she whispered, “yeah.”

“Who is he?” he asked, rain dripping down his face. He blinked rapidly, trying to stop the rain from getting in his eyes. “Who is he,” he repeated when he realized she wasn’t going to answer.

“You don’t…”

“Yes, I do. Who he is? Which one of my friends are you fucking?” he asked, grabbing her arms tightly.

“Brian, you’re hurting me,” she cried, trying to pry herself away from him. “Let me go and I’ll tell you,” she screamed, her voice piercing the night.

He released his grip on her arms, his one hand sliding down and grabbing onto her wrist. “Who is it?” The rage he felt inside himself was something he’s never experienced before. He’s never been this out of control with his emotions before.

“Fine, it’s your cousin. Are you happy now? Whenever you go off and play your charity golf games or any charity event that you have to do, I go to him,” she screamed. He stared at her for a moment, thinking back the picture on her dresser, the one of them on their wedding day. The woman before him was not the same woman he married.

Brian’s grip on her wrist tightened as he pulled her towards the house. “Brian, let go. What are you doing? You’re hurting me,” she cried.

“Hurting you? I’m hurting you? You don’t know the first thing about hurt,” he mumbled, pulling her into the house behind him. “Do you want to know what real hurting is?” he asked, pushing her up against the front door. His hand went around her throat.

“Brian, please,” she managed to say gasping for breath. Her hand clawed at his, trying to pull his away from her throat.

Brian pulled his hand away from her neck. He stared intently at her, their eyes locked, before he turned and walked away from her. She watched him ascend the stairs, knowing he was going to their bedroom.

Guilt racked her conscience. She was unsure of what to do know, of what he wanted to do. She knew she’d be sleeping on the couch tonight, there was no doubt about that. What did you expect? That you whore yourself around with his cousin and that he’d just accept that and go on with life. This is Brian.

That’s right, this is Brian. He deals with things his own way. She could hear draws slamming upstairs. No doubt it would be her dresser draws he’s opening and closing. Her clothes are probably all over the bedroom as they speak.

She hears the bedroom door open and close and his bare feet walk across the hardwood floor upstairs. She makes her way to the couch, sitting down and patiently waiting for him to turn up with her suitcase.

He appears from almost no where, standing before her not with her suitcase but with his gun. She forgot he had gotten on. The color drains from her face as she watches him stand motionless in front of her. “Brian, what do you think you’re doing with that?” she asked, scooting across the couch.

“It won’t do you any good to run, baby. I’ve taken lessons, or did you forget? I’ve become quite good at this. I’m almost a perfect shot,” he sneered.

She’s never seen him like this before. Never seen this side of him. This Brian is nothing like her loving, caring husband. This Brian was betrayed by his wife and cousin, two people he trusted. This Brian doesn’t care about anything anymore.

He raises the gun, pointing it at her head. “Where do you think you’re going?” he asks, a smile growing on his face. “Don’t even think about the door, you’d never make it on time.”

She nods, sitting on the couch. “How long?” he asked, the gun aimed at her head.

She pauses a moment, wondering if she should tell him the truth. “A few months,” she lied. He nodded, the gun remaining on her as he spoke. “And, how long were you planning on keeping this up?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered. She knew in her heart it would never end. She felt something with Kevin that she didn’t feel with anyone, not even her cousin.

“You lie to me, Kristi. You sit in front of me and lie to me in my own home. What the hell is wrong with you?” he asks, coming closer and pressing the gun against her forehead. “What’s wrong with you?” he yells, waiting for her to say something.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, tears falling. “I’m just sorry, okay. You went away and I was bored and frustrated. I needed something and Kevin was there…” She never did get to finish her sentence. She watched Brian as he pulled the gun away from her forehead and circled back to where he was originally standing.

She lowered her head, grateful that this part was over. His rage seemed to be subsiding, slightly. She knew first thing in the morning he’d be filing for divorce. She didn’t blame him, she’d do the same if the roles were reversed. But they weren’t. Brian was the innocent, she was the guilty and when she lifted her head to look at him, he was the one holding the gun at her once again.

“First rule of thumb, baby, never let your guard down.”

Her last thought, as he pulled the trigger, was that he was indeed right. He was a good shot. And one shot in the forehead was all it took.

Seconds turned into minutes as Brian sat on the floor across of his wife’s body. He stared, unsure of what to do first. He waited another fifteen minutes before standing from his spot on the floor, looking down upon his dead wife.

He then knew what he had to do.

He calmly walked over to the phone, picking it up and staring at the receiver. He slowly dialed 911, thinking of things to say as the other end rang. “911, what’s your emergency?” a female voice on the other end answered.

Brian took a deep breath before answering, “I just killed my wife and now I’m going to kill him.”

He could hear the operator talking as he tossed the phone onto the couch. He didn’t care. He had someone to take care of.

And after taking care of Kevin, if they found him, he’d take care of himself.

The End

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