The Sentimental Type

Jack stared in horror at the scene laid about before him. His bedroom was a mess. Furniture was overturned, and drawers and their contents were strewn about the floor alongside Sarah, his beautiful young wife. She was lying on her back, motionless, a pool of blood underneath her head. His girlfriend Roxanne stood behind him smiling and waiting for his reaction.
He grabbed her and shook her.
"What the hell have you done?"

"I've taken care of all of our problems." She wrenched herself from his grip and lit the cigarette that was in her mouth.
"What? Are you insane?" Jack turned away from her, a deluge of mixed emotions washing over him.

"Jack... now we can be together. Nothing is standing in our way. Just like you said all those times, if it weren't for Sarah..."
Jack swallowed hard and spun around, his eyes blazing with rage.

"You stupid bitch! We will never be together... we'll go to prison, that is if we're lucky and they don't gas us both. What the hell were you thinking?" Jack looked down at the lifeless form on the floor. He knelt down beside her and reached out to move strands of Sarah's wispy blonde hair away from her face. She looked so peaceful. The sticky pool of crimson underneath her head made his own blood run cold; she was gone. "Oh Sarah...." he whispered and shook his head. His shoulders slumped and his body seemed to flood with grief; he hung his head and quiet tears flowed from his eyes.

But his moment of silence was broken by the click of the gun in Roxanne's hand.

"No, you're the stupid one Jack. And now it's all poor, poor Sarah suddenly? The love of your life right? And you're gonna sit there and cry over her like the dumb bastard she always took you for. You hated her guts, but you just couldn't leave her. Why was that exactly Jackie? Afraid of being poor?"

Jack stood up slowly and turned to face her.

"So what? You're just gonna kill me too? Is that it? Because I'm not celebrating the death of my wife? You've done something very, very stupid."

"You know Jackie, maybe you're getting smarter, or maybe I'm really not as dumb as you thought I was. I admit, I had high hopes for us though... but you let me down again. If only your reaction had been... oh I don't know, a little less dramatic. A little less... rehearsed, then I might could believe it. But then everything you do has been carefully calculated. You never would have left her, would you? It was all empty promises; stringing us both along for whatever you could get. Sarah's money and my sex."

His face changed from the facade of painful mourning into a twisted grin.

"I never loved her. And you're right, it was always about the money. And you..." he paused and laughed, "thinking I would give it all up for you. Yeah honey, the sex was good, but I didn't love you either."

Roxanne shook her head, but she was still smiling. “Wow, you really are one dumb son of a bitch aren't you? You still don't get it. Get over there.” She motioned with the gun for him to move against the wall.

Reluctantly Jack did as she asked.

“Come on now Roxie, this really isn't your style. I never would have figured you for the sentimental type... killing Sarah out of jealousy, and now me for revenge.”

“Oh, I'm not killing you for revenge... at least not for myself.” She laughed and looked back at Sarah's body. The corpse moved and the color drained from Jack's face. Sarah sat up, wiping the back of her head and looking at the gooey red mess on her hand. She was smiling. And very much alive.

“What? What the hell? What's going on?” Jack's confusion made the two women laugh.

Sarah got up and joined Roxanne on the other side of the room, and Jack still didn't understand what was happening.

“Well Jack, what's going on, is I'm gonna kill you, Sarah is going to collect the insurance and then in a few months, I'll get a percentage.” Roxanne cackled. “And you thought I loved you. Oh yes, the sex was very good darling. But... Sarah's made me a better offer. Cold hard cash is just a little more... tangible. And, well, you know I never was the sentimental type.”

©2013 Garden Summerland