A Broken Web 3

Chapter 9 - Peter's POV

I Look at the note carefully.

Peter Benjamin Parker - 24

Gwendolyn Maxine Parker (nee Stacy) - 23

Emma Mary Parker - 1/2

All to Kill.

I hear Gwen run through to the kitchen. She almost slips on the wooden floor. She stops in front of me, panting for breath, before smacking the jam out of my hand, sending it crashing to the floor and cracking into thousands of pieces, before -

Kissing me.

She kisses me. I don't know what for, She just kisses me. I'm not against it. She is usually the one to pull away, but I have to force myself off of her.

"What was that for?" I ask, stroking her cheek slightly as tears start to roll down them slightly. "Are you angry?" She says, putting her hand on top of mine, placed softly on her face. "You knew?" I say, feeling my face fall slightly.

"Oh Peter, I wanted to tell.."

"You knew?"

"Yes..but.."

"So you knew this was here?"

"I put it there..."

"You what?"

"Peter I didn't want you to get hurt!"

"So I instead you kept a very important and valuable piece of information from me?"

"Yes...but Peter..."

"And you think that was the right thing to do?"

"No,..but."

"Save it. I'll tell you the correct answer. No. God woman, You could've got us all killed! If I had known about it, I might have been able to protect you."

"But Peter.."

"You put all three of us in danger."

"Peter..."

"Next time, just let me be the one who fixes things. At least I can do it properly."

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Oooooohhhhhhh - BURN!

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*Gwen's POV*

Peter walks out, And I run after him, tears trailing down my cheeks. He slams the door shut, before leaving me sliding down it, and burying my head in my knees. I just wanted to protect him. I didn't want him killed. He's my husband. He's my everything. I thought I was his too...

I sit there, crying into my jeans, before I hear the window open sharply. Assuming its Peter, I raise my head.

It's not Peter.

It's the murderer.

Holding a knife.

He walks towards me, and I stand up, backing towards the door. He pins me up against it, and slides the knife down my neck. Pain flourishes throw it, blood seeping out wherever it can find. I become weak, as the knife dives into my side. It is pulled out, and I slide to the floor. "Peter..." I stutter, knowing that those are the last words I will say. The last thing I see,

Peter, climbing through the window.