The Locker
How We Begin the End...
"Now what, Boss?" the man called Race requested impatiently, his face screwed up in confusion.
Chris appeared to have no answers for him or his self. Out of rage, he raised his gun to me. The barrel pressed hard against my temple. I closed my eyes. I had accepted my fate the moment I decided not to fight. Edmond wanted me dead. My lover was hired to kill me. If dying would protect my baby girls then that's what needs to happen. I almost begged, in my mind's eye, for Chris to pull the trigger. To end this day with one last burst of pain and then it would be over. That would be the end of it. I'd be sleep eternally.
"Why does your husband want you dead?" Chris asked beseechingly instead of pulling the trigger. "He didn't kill Izarah out of love. I think your husband hired Izarah to kill you and being the fuck nut my brother was... he turned around and fell in love with your bitch ass."
I eyed him curiously. Those were the first questions I would like to know. Why would Izarah fall in love with something that had an expiration date? Why would he risk that? Then the realization of it all came crashing down upon my heart. Izarah was smart. Smarter than my husband realized and the things that I ignored started to make sense.
"Because it wasn't about me," I said suddenly. "It was about you. It was always about you. It was about protecting you."
"I don't need protection," Chris said in a huff.
"Yes you do," I persisted carefully, softly, "and I can help you. I can help you get all those answers and more. You need to think this through."
I turned away from him as though the gun in my face didn't exist. "You need to think this through, Chris. My husband doesn't know you caught me, right? So he doesn't know you are aware of anything. Let's keep it that way. I'll go home. Let's let their plan play out a little. We stay in touch. Let's do to them what they had planned to do to us."
"I want your husband dead," he bellowed ruthlessly.
"Okay," I agreed, "but we do it in a way that makes sense. And in a way that keeps us looking innocent and out of prison."
"But you're his wife," said Race curiously. "How can we ever trust you?"
"Right," Chris agreed, finally lowering his gun, "how can we trust you?"
"Does that matter?" I said astonished.
"May change the way I feel about it," Chris said justly, "and besides when did you become some bad bitch."
Succinctly, I looked at him. I felt crazed. It took everything I had to appear and sound calm.
"The moment he tried to take me away from my kids... that's when I became a bad bitch," I answered truthfully. "I'd kill any man over that. And if we are to speak about trusting someone, I believe you're the ones with the guns and I am the only one on that tape that my husband plan to kill. Can any of you say the same?"
Race looked taken aback but I didn't continue to press the point.
"Alright," Chris replied, deciding to see reason. "What do you got in mind? What's your plan?"
"I think Izarah left us a trail of breadcrumbs," I told them, piecing together the now obvious details in my mind.
"Breadcrumbs?" asked Race.
"Clues," answered Chris before turning to meet my eyes. "You think he left us a map to figure shit out if he was killed? What gave you that impression?"
YOU ARE READING
Betrayed (Season Two)
ChickLitUtessa's struggle to survive has reached it's breaking point as she seeks revenge against her husband.