Who Killed My Husband? Page 3

  Why couldn’t they just leave him to live in peace?

  Darren reached the front door but didn’t bother pausing to see who it was. He swung it open and was just opening his mouth to tell this rude individual off, when he froze.

  “Sh--Shelby?”

  “Hello, Darren.” Her voice was flat and calm sounding, although her appearance was anything but. Shelby’s hair was unkempt, looking as if she hadn’t brushed it in days. Her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, and her skin pale.

  “What are you doing here?” Darren took a step back from the door, alarm coursing through his veins. This was a mistake, though, because the more he backed away the closer Shelby came. Within moments she was over his doorstep.

  “I needed to see you.” She was staring at him with her big, red eyes.

  “You don’t look well, Shelby.”

  “You don’t look well!” she snapped. It was then that Darren noticed her left hand, shoved into her purse. She was holding something.

  “What do you have there?” Darren’s tripped over the rug on the floor, taking his eyes off Shelby for just a moment as he tried to right himself. When he looked back, he was staring down the barrel of a gun.

  Darren lunged forward, grappling with Shelby. She let out a scream of anger, trying in vain to keep the gun pointed at Darren long enough to shoot. It took seconds for Darren to get control of the weapon. He backed away from Shelby, pointing it at her with shaking hands.

  “What the hell are you doing!” he screamed, breathing heavily.

  “You said you’d leave her!” Shelby sobbed, collapsing against the wall. “You were supposed to leave Rochelle and be with me! But you ran off! You left me, Darren!”

  Shelby was trembling violently now. She staggered to her feet, a manic look in her eyes. Then she charged.

  The shot rang out before Darren even realized he’d pulled the trigger.

  Shelby let out an ear-piercing scream and collapsed on the ground, a mere three feet from where Darren stood. She clutched her shoulder. A scarlet pool of blood blossomed out across the fabric of her shirt.

  “Oh god, oh god, oh god,” Darren stammered. The gun clattered to the floor and he stared down at Shelby in horror. Then he turned, the only thing on his mind being getting away.

  Another gunshot ripped through the air.

  With a strangled cry, Darren stumbled backwards before falling over. He managed to catch himself with one arm before he cracked his head on the ground, but after a few seconds he sunk to the ground. One hand clutched his chest.

  Jackie stood silhouetted in the front doorway, shotgun in hand. She stared down at Darren solemnly. Not a hint of fear or horror crossed her face.

  She saw movement out of the corner of her eye. Shelby lunged towards Darren’s body, crying out in pain at the wound in her shoulder. Jackie watched her in curiosity, an amused gleam at her eye. She realized too late that Shelby was going for the gun.

  With trembling, blood-stained fingers, Shelby raised the gun. A third shot rang out.

  Jackie fell dead.

  Shelby collapsed onto Darren’s body, which she’d crawled over in an effort to grab the gun. She brought the gun to her chest and cradled it there.

  Sirens wailed in the distance.

  ***

  Rochelle, Michael, and Austin were settling in to watch a movie with popcorn when the doorbell rang. Rochelle sighed in frustration, looking down at her sweet boy who had just nestled into her chest.

  Her mind was still a haze of emotion and disbelief, but Michael was helping so much. His presence sent happiness and warmth radiating through her. The wound Darren left still hurt, but she could already feel Michael filling that hole.

  “I’ll get it,” Michael said, bracing his arm against the couch to raise himself up.

  “No, no,” Rochelle insisted, whispering so that her son wouldn’t get distracted from his movie. “Stay with Austin.”

  She raised herself up from the couch. Austin didn’t seem to mind, he slid over and rested his head on Michael’s shoulder instead. Rochelle trudged up to the front door.

  “Detective Blanks!” she exclaimed upon opening the door. “Is something wrong?”

  The young detective stood before her for the second time that day, looking grim. He ran a hand through his hair and dropped his eyes to the ground, before taking a deep breath and looking up at her.

  “I’m afraid I have bad news.”

  Rochelle’s heart clenched in her chest. She did her best to keep her breathing steady and didn’t say a word.

  “I’m sorry, but Darren is dead.”

  “Dead?” Jack’s words didn’t add up in Rochelle’s mind. “What do you mean, dead? Didn’t you just discover that he wasn’t dead?”

  “The car crash didn’t kill your husband, Mrs. Jones. He was killed.”

  “Who killed my husband?”

  Jack stared at her grimly. “Jackie Jones did. And then Shelby Lynn killed her.”

  “Shelby wouldn’t hurt a fly.” Rochelle’s eyes widened in disbelief. She put a hand to her forehead and took a step away from the door. “This can’t be true.”

  “I’m very sorry.”

  “Please, please just leave,” Rochelle turned away from the door. “I can’t handle this right now.”

  Jack hesitated on the doorstep for a moment, gazing at her with concerned eyes. But then he complied. Rochelle shut the door behind him and leaned her forehead against it, taking deep breaths.

  “Mommy?”

  Rochelle turned to see Austin standing in the doorway to the living room. Michael stood directly behind him, hands resting on his little shoulders.

  “Yes, honey?”

  “Was that Daddy?”

  Rochelle gave Austin a wobbly smile, fighting back the tears that sprang up in her eyes. She walked over to him and knelt down, giving Michael a meaningful look.

  “No, Austin, that wasn’t Daddy. But guess what?”

  “What?”

  Rochelle looked up at Michael again, teary-eyed.

  “You have a new Daddy now.”

  Here's an excerpt from my book Brother Husbands.

  Be sure to check it out, thanks.

  Peter and I had met very young and had rushed into our relationship, utterly infatuated with one another. We’d married straight out of high school (much to our parents displeasure) and had gone off to the same college. I’d had barely any romantic experience before Peter, just a few boys who took me out on a date or two and one boy I saw steadily for three months.

  But now I was involved with other men, and Peter with other women. It was thrilling, after I got over the initial jealousy. But eventually that disappeared and before long Peter and I were regular participants in the local swinger community.

  It didn’t take long for Jonathan to find out what we were doing, and to our surprise, he was understanding. Not only that, but he was intrigued. And so after some consideration Peter and I decided to start inviting him to group sessions.

  This was yet another thing that took some adjustment, at least on my part. Peter seemed to adapt quickly to having Jonathan involved in our lifestyle.

  Peter slides open the drawer of the side table and removes a box of condoms and the vibrator. He hands a condom and the vibrator to Jonathan who slips it on his middle finger and turns it on. The buzzing fills the room.

  I am on my hands and knees, watching the exchange eagerly. Already, his cock is tenting his boxers. I can see Jonathan is well-hung. Perhaps even more so than my husband. Maybe, at least, I’ll get to taste him. Imagining that moment, I lick my lips.

  The movement catches Peter’s eye and he looks at Jonathan.

  “I think she’s hungry.”

 

 

 
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