Deadly Affair | A Short Story Collab with Aubree Pynn
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(Copyrighted material)
STELLA
If walls could talk, the floral wallpaper in my home would scream, and the light from the crystal chandeliers above me would flicker on and off, showcasing the demons straddled along them.
“Stella,” my husband’s deep resound ordered me to the living room. Robotically, I stood like I’d been summoned to rise by a game controller. After smoothing my hands over my velvety robe, I slid my feet into my bunny slippers and snapped out of a hypnotizing trance.
Heading down the creaking wooden steps and into our ultra-modern kitchen, I walked into his embrace. Preston released me and waved his hand over the center island. A bouquet of roses and a plate of scrambled eggs and white toast awaited me.
“Take a seat, beautiful.” He pulled a chair out and helped me onto the tall, padded stool chair. Preston pressed his soft lips against my forehead, then backed away to pour me a glass of orange juice from the plastic pitcher on the countertop.
“You look tired,” he said.
Hating him consumed a lot of my energy. And boy, was I tired!
“I am.” I nodded.
I bit off a small bite of toast and anticipated the inevitable—the predictable contempt that spewed from him every other morning.
“Well, take it easy today.” He pecked my lips, leaving the taste of mocha-flavored coffee behind. “And try not to clean your plate. You’re gaining a little weight.”
Standing before him, I brushed the crumbs off my hands and fixed his tie. I avoided his hazel eyes that stood out amongst his flawless brown skin, staring directly ahead until I finished perfecting it.
“Don’t wait up. I have meetings lined up all day,” he concluded, tracing his thumb over my high cheekbone before heading out. My feet were planted where I stood until the front door slammed.
From afar, the sound of the picture frames on the walls in the living room shook like an earthquake had come and gone. My heightened breathing had slowed, returning to normal now that he was gone. A sinister smile spread across my lips instantly, laughter pouring out of me and filling the air that was once filled with animosity.
I feasted on a piece of toast as I tightened the strings on my robe and headed out the back door. I’d put the expansive shed in our yard to good use two weeks ago. It took up half of our three acres of land in the middle of our backyard.
Albany’s humidity nearly choked me as I approached the shed’s door. I cleared my throat and kicked over the small boulder that hid the key to the entrance. After retrieving the handgun I’d stored in my flowerbed, I smiled at the progress of my garden as I unlocked the door and stepped inside the shed out of Georgia’s heat.
“Good morning bitches.” I tossed my toast at them and watched them scurry for it. Folding my arms, I scoffed as they shared the toast, just like they’d been sharing my husband.
They were both the opposite of me—a size two, legs for days, and naive as fuck. They believed his lies, but I saw right through them.
“Can you please loosen our cuffs?” one of them asked. “My wrist is bleeding.” Weeping from the pain, she held her wrist out, pleading with swollen bags under her glossy eyes.
Unable to control my anger, I kicked her in the stomach. “There. That should take the focus off your wrist. Her friend pulled her as closely as she could despite their shackles, and I pointed the gun at her head as she side-eyed me.
“You’ve had us in here for days. How long do you think you can keep this up?” she spat.
I shrugged. “Let’s see.” I tapped my chin, blinking rapidly at the wooden platform above us. “I confronted both of you three months ago and warned you to stop sleeping with my husband.” Shrugging again, I threw my arms in the air, letting them fall defeatedly. “Just know that I will keep this up. Now what do you want to eat? I’m in a good mood today, and I’ve already taken out the trash, so I can’t feed you that.”
The weak one screamed for help like I hadn’t soundproofed the place.
“Not today, Ginger. Just answer the question.” I huffed and pushed my jet-black curls out of my face. “Danielle, since your friend is incompetent, you should choose. What do you want to eat?”
Her attitude persisted as she snarled at me. “Keeping us here won’t stop your husband from cheating. We aren’t the first set of friends he’s fucked. Won’t be the last,” Danielle said.
We stared at each other with disdain. Danielle’s nostrils flared, and her sandy brown cheeks turned red.
“Our families will come looking for us,” she pressed.
Pulling the hammer back on the gun, I shot past her ear, accidentally grazing it.
“What do you want to eat?!” I demanded answers as they screamed, cried, and held onto each other.
“Chinese food or something. Anything!” Ginger cried.
I laughed and nodded. “Good choice, Gin.” I rubbed her cheek with the smoking hot barrel of the gun. “I’m in the mood for that, too. I’ll be back. Don’t wait up.” After blowing them a kiss, I exited the shed and locked up. I stashed the keys in my robe pocket and prepared to drop the gun in the flowerbed until I turned around and saw him.
“Preston,” I whispered.
His long strides moved toward me with purpose. The scowl on his face was handsome yet intimidating.
“What have you been up to, Stella?” he roared.
PRESTON
My face twisted as I took giant steps toward her. I’d only doubled back because she’d forgotten to put my meeting notes in my briefcase. If I hadn’t checked, I would’ve never caught her red-handed. She looked at me like she’d seen a ghost.
“Stella,” I growled, stopping within inches of her. “What are you doing?”
My glare intensified when she didn’t answer me. I was already irritated by her carelessness. She would evoke more of it if she didn’t open her mouth and speak now. I commenced a countdown in my head to gather my composure, impatiently waiting until she spoke.
Five, four, three, two, one…
Her silence would be her downfall, and I would make sure of it. Grabbing her face with force, I shook her jaw.
“Give me the gun!” Her sculpted amber eyes pierced through me, but I didn’t care. She was up to no good, and I would get to the bottom of it somehow. Reluctantly, she handed me the gun. “And the keys,” I demanded.
Just when she handed the keys over, the doorbell rang. I peered down at my watch and then back at her with a smirk. If she hadn’t lost all her color before, it was gone now. The flushed expression on her face faded her melanin. She pulled away from me when I loosened my grip on her face.
“I think you should get that,” I said, snatching the keys and gun from her grip and trailing behind her into our home. Grabbing her arm before she reached the door, I whipped her around to face me. “You deserve your fun, too…enjoy him. This is the last time. And if you dare tell him I’m here, you’ll regret it.”
Releasing her, I stepped into my study and left the door ajar. I wanted to hear how vocal she was when I wasn’t around. I’d been dying to discover everything she did behind my back when I departed every morning for work. Standing in the crack of the door, I observed how she nervously smiled before he fully stepped inside the house.
Stella had caught onto my affairs years ago. She’d threatened the women I found solace in, persistently scaring them off and sometimes causing them to disappear altogether. But then she grew quiet, no longer mentioning my acts of infidelity.
I’d done some research of my own following that, and she’d destroyed my pride when I found out another man had been in our bed. She sometimes purposely left his cologne lingering on her skin to rile me up when I returned home late. She lessened the control I had, and that was fucking up my head.
He kicked the front door closed with his foot and pulled her into his arms, planting a passionate kiss on her lips. My eye twitched as I watched him sexually handle her with the same aggression I used to make love to her. Stella had put on a few extra pounds, nowhere near as thin as she was when we initially married. The extra load turned me off. But to watch another man clear my kitchen table, sit her on it and stand between her legs while caressing her curves… that shit made me nauseous.
She was still mine!
For as long as she bore my last name and wore the four-carat diamond ring I’d given her, Stella belonged to me.
I couldn’t look away from them as he drank from her land of milk and honey. Stella didn’t even try to hold her excitement or shame back. After dropping her head back from pleasure, she smirked at my study. Every blissful reaction she made was performed to spite me.
Suddenly, she gained control and dropped to her knees, taking him in her mouth. While his eyes were closed, she stared at me through the door's crack. I watched her with hate burning in my soul as she spit, bobbed her head, and rotated her palms around his dick. They were the same tricks she used to do to me.
Stella swallowed his happy ending and licked her lips before biting her bottom lip. She winked at me as she climbed onto our kitchen table on all fours and accepted him doggy style. She mocked me with every thrust as she cursed and moaned his name. “Mm, Corey,” she soothed.
Corey…her business partner—the business partner she refused to ever let me meet. And now I knew why. She screamed his name as I wondered exactly how long they’d been at it. Stella pleaded for him to push her to the edge so that she could unravel everything she’d been building up.
I watched my wife unravel and cream for another man as she gripped the table's edge and reached for something steel and shiny. Stella waited until Cory dropped his head and grunted, pumping a final stroke inside her. During the peak of his passion, she bucked, turned around, and then shot a bullet directly through his heart.
Blood splattered over the white-tiled kitchen floor and wall. With a satisfied smile, she watched his limp body drop to the floor. Stella slid off the table and wiped her face with one of the decorative kitchen towels, dropping it on his lifeless body afterward.
I swallowed the hard lump and watched her saunter toward the study. Her demeanor was calm, and she held her head high like she was proud of herself. She pushed the door open and inspected me with fire dancing in her bright eyes. “Look what you did, Preston. You killed him, and all because you wanted to be selfish. Didn’t I tell you no one else could have you but me?”
My eyebrows knitted together as I stared at my wife upside her head of messy curls. “Stella…” I tried to reason.
“You’ve talked enough for the both of us, darling. Now it’s your turn to prove yourself to me. Get rid of his body and those whores in the shed, or you, my unfaithful, lying, sorry-ass excuse for a husband, will be next.” She waved me out of the room with the barrel of the gun. “Til death do us part, remember?”
I gradually moved toward the back door, glancing over my shoulder at her.
“Don’t look at me!” she screamed. Her calm state had disappeared; her anger was back and vivid. “Get rid of them! Now!”
It was do or die.
Me or them.
And I chose myself.
THE END
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