Cheating leads to danger.
Nancy took a seat at the table, and replied, “So nice to meet you in person, Superdude345.”
Stan gazed, and said, “You’re more than I expected, Unicorn006.”
Flattered, Nancy lifted a glass of water to her lips. She said, “My medications give me dry mouth.”
“I know, you’ve told me thalt before.” Stan said. He wanted to ask her. He so yearned to know. She always spoke of medications, and illness, but never to a great extent. He wanted to understand. Descending eyes for a moment, he contemplated, and asked, “What is it like, living with voices inside?”
Nancy dithered, twirling a spoon in her coffee cup, she said, “Thank you for ordering coffee. You really do listen.”
“You’re welcome.” Stan said, with a hunch of diversion. The voices must bother her, Stan assumed. He continued, “The waiter took our order. You mentioned steak and potato.”
“Technology, I love it!” Nancy exclaimed, remembering the chat the night before. She asked, “Medium rare?”
Stan nodded, still wondering about her voices. She seemed mentally intact, and very beautiful. He liked her deep blue eyes, and long blonde pony tails. He was in love. She was regrettably seven years younger than him.
“How long have you been netting, Stan?”
Stan smiled, and replied, “Many years. Since internet prices went down.”
Nancy exclaimed, “Yes, I remember when internet prices were sky high.”
“Crazy, isn’t it. The greed in some people.” Stan said. Cringing inside, he may have inadvertently used a trigger word. She did not seem crazy.
“Those were the days, eh?”
Stan needed to establish a more valued relationship with, to him a very special woman. The two strangers ate, and enjoyed each other’s company for nearly two hours.
Nancy smiled. She loved Stan’s voice. Smooth and mellow. He wasn’t a smoker, maybe that’s why he sounded so charming. She needed a cigarette, and asked, “Do you mind if I smoke?”
Stan knew she smoked, and said, “You can’t smoke in here.”
“I know. Do you mind being alone for a moment?”
“No. Go ahead.” Stan said. Standing he tossed a five dollar bill onto the table and said, “I’ll join you.”
Stan stopped by the register, paid the tab with his credit card, and joined Nancy outside for a cigarette.
“You don’t smoke!” Nancy exclaimed, lipping an unlit cigarette.
“I’m curious, may I?” Stan asked, training his finger on Nancy’s pack of cigarettes.
Opening her pack, visually counting the remaining cigarettes, she pulled one out for him, and pushed it into his mouth. She asked, “Need a light?”
Stan chuckled, nodding his head. She lit his cigarette, Stan took a deep drag, and said, “It’s been twenty years.”
“Since you had sex or the smoking?” Nancy asked.
Stan smiled, and asked, “Are you hinting me?”
Nancy inhaled a puff off her cigarette, and replied, “Depends.”
“You.” She said, squinting at her car.
Dropping his cigarette, pressing his foot into it, and smashing it, he said, “My wife is home.”
“That bitch!” Nancy exclaimed, and then asked, “Do you want a ride, or can you manage driving?”
“I can follow you.” Stan said, reaching into his pocket for his keys.
Nancy walked to her red sedan. She spoke vociferously, “Follow me!”
Without dither, Stan jogged to his wife’s Volvo, unlocking the car door. He hopped inside, and started the engine. Backing out the parking space, he pulled his car behind Nancy’s vehicle. He heard her holler, “Ready?”
Stan reacted with a flash of his lights going off and then back on. Nancy’s wild driving captivated Stan speechless, he was mildly thankful he wasn’t in her car. The speedily sharp right turn she made out of the restaurant’s driveway wasn’t a fluid right turn onto the avenue. Stan almost thought Nancy was aiming to ditch him. Shadowing her car, Nancy invoked an easygoing fear. Was she showing off? His dildo turned into a towering pillar of steel. Suddenly, he craved Nancy’s bedroom, or wherever she aspired for screwing grounds.
Skidding rapidly around another corner, into housing track, Stan highly anticipated Nancy’s house close. After a short maze of streets, she drove into a driveway. Stan parked his car outside her moderate size house, on the street.
Once inside, out of the cold, Stan made himself at home. He sat on one of Nancy’s couches, and said, “You have a nice home.”
“My ex is an extremely wealthy lawyer.” Nancy said, searching the kitchen for clean wine glasses, and acquiring an expensive bottle of wine. She browsed her medication bottles. Which one could she drug Stan with?
“What are you doing?” Stan asked piercingly cheerful.
“Fetching some wine.” Nancy called back. Quashing Stan’s drink would be too risky. He could enter the kitchen, and witness the evil deed. She’d poison him later, maybe in the morning, for breakfast.
Stan stood to his feet. Nancy giggled setting two wine glasses on a nearby coffee table. She handed him the bottle of wine, and said, “You pop that cork.”
“No bottle opener?” Stan asked seizing the butter knife Nancy handed him.
Nancy sat down on the couch, intimately close by him, and whispered in his ear, “Sorry, no.”
Stan studied Nancy, neighboring so close. Effective persuasion, he placed an arm around her. An extensive kiss to her rosy lips left him aroused. Her sexy body, Stan relished the invitation.
“You know what I like, Superdude345.” Nancy said, sympathetically crooning him, she added, “You don’t need that bitch.”
Stan favored his real name. He’s lived his entire life as Stan. Superdude345 erected a buzz kill, he said sarcastically, “Whatever you say Unicorn double oh six.”
Leaning left, and giving him a slight push, she asked, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Stan defended himself, and said, “Internet aliases remind me of my wife. She almost caught me chatting with you online once.”
“That bitch!” Nancy said, ferociously gnawing her teeth.
“You really hate her?” Stan asked.
“Do you?” a familiar voice asked, freezing Stan’s core.
Standing inside the doorway, in the dark hall, a sinister shadow cast on the intruder’s body. Nancy distinguished the silhouette of a pistol. Stan flinched, rising to his feet he had to verify, “Cindy? Is that you?”
“Shut up Stan!” Cindy said, bellowing with commanding lungs. She advanced into the room, stepping closer. Snarling a profanity, she focused the pistol on Nancy, and asked, “Internet bitch? Is this her Stan? Is she the only fuck in your life? Do you think I’m stupid? I’ve read the emails, Stan.” Her jaw tightened, she advanced closer, and forced the nozzle of the gun into Nancy’s defenseless cheek.
Whimpering, death seemed looming, she said, “He works for my ex-husband.”
“Oh, that attorney guy you stole money from.” Cindy said, forcibly shoving the gun deeper into her cheek.
“Please don’t kill-“KAPOW! Nancy was abruptly disrupted. Cindy accidentally discharged the firearm. Stan had whacked his wife in the face with the wine bottle. Dropping the firearm, she twirled about, brutally settling onto the floor, close by the pistol.
Stan wavered off balance, grazing Cindy in the face with his foot. She grumbled, successfully grasping the firearm. Examining Nancy, she was unharmed. Grabbing her tightly around the arm, stealing her from the couch, he forcibly led her outside. Anxiously fumbling for his keys, he unlocked the door to his car, guiding Nancy into the passenger’s seat.
KAPOW! ZING. Stan ducked, leaping over the hood of his car. The crazy woman he called his wife had fired another round. Surely someone would call the police. Vaulting into the driver’s seat, under pressure Stan started the car’s engine. KAPOW! Cindy fired another round, smashing a back window on the car. Stan yelled, “Shit!” flooring the gas pedal, the Volvo’s rear tires spun screeching the nauseating odor of burning rubber.
Peering into the rearview mirror, he doubted escape. Observing nothing in sight on the road traveled, he exhaled relief.
“Your wife is crazier than me! Can’t this car go any faster?” Nancy asked, distraught over nearly being killed.
“Calm down, she isn’t my wife anymore.” Stan said. Slightly composed he again examined the rearview mirror for advancing headlights, and added, “Well, technically she is still my wife.”
Twisting her body, Nancy examined the road behind the car, and shouted, “Shit! Brace yourself!”
Stan solicited the rearview mirror, and yelled, “Damn Cindy!”
Cindy’s beasty Bronco smashed into the Volvo’s rear, pitching Stan forward, and then suddenly back. Nancy slammed into the car’s dashboard. Grunting, she complained, “My ribs ache.”
“What do you want, a police station or the hospital?” Stan said, reprimanding her.
Nancy adjusted herself, watching Cindy’s Bronco speed up on an opposing traffic lane. With slight difficulty, from physical and emotional pain, Nancy latched her seatbelt.
“Brace yourself!” Stan shouted, piloting a strong left on the steering wheel. His car smashed into the side of Cindy’s well-built Bronco, a fly attacking a wasp. Cindy’s Bronco backed off a short bit, falling behind. Someone was bound to call the police. He pushed the horn a few times, alerting people of his dire need for help.
Nancy cried, lowering her head into the palms of her hands, “Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” Stan assumed the voices were bothering her.
Reading sixty on the digital speedometer, reckoning the dangers of speeding at night, he asked, “Direct me out of this maze, will you Nancy?”
“Turn right onto the next street.” Nancy said, pointing with her finger.
With a few more directions, Stan successfully maneuvered his smashed up Volvo onto the main avenue. He asked, “Where are the police when you need them?” Stan stared into the rearview mirror, watching Cindy’s Bronco become smaller, he said, “That’s right Cindy, there are others on the road!”
“Is she backing off?” Nancy asked, a bit hopeful.
“She’s falling behind. There are too many witnesses.” Stan said, relieved the courts would find Cindy ruined the marriage, and not him. He imagined the alimony.
After a few unintelligible mutterings, Nancy asked, “What now?”
“Do you have your cellphone on you?”
“No, it’s in my purse.” She said, quivering from flashbacks.
“I didn’t bring mine. Cindy would have called. I’d have to lie.”
Nancy blindly stared out her window, watching scenery pass by. She asked, “Aren’t you going to slow down?”
Recovering good judgment, he lifted his foot off the accelerator. His wife from hell stole his sanity. Questioning himself and location, he asked, “I’m out of it, where’s the police station?”
Nancy shrugged, and asked, “The civic center?”
Recalling the large grayish black building, Stan checked his side mirror. Letting his foot off the gas pedal, he veered the steering wheel, rendering a large screeching U-turn across four lanes of traffic.
“Warn me if you drive stupid!” Nancy snapped, rubbing her shoulder, she coldly asked, “Why are we going back?”
“The police station is this way.” Stan said, pointing ahead.
Cruising a few blocks, the wonderful silence pleased Stan. He found Nancy problematic, with her voices. He said, “We should almost-“
Nancy screamed. Cindy had sped out one of the side streets like a bat out of hell, and smashed her Bronco into the Volvo’s passenger side. Momentum sent Stan’s head pounding into the side window. The thrashed Volvo skated a few feet.
Dazed, Stan placed a hand to the side of his head. Glimpsing at Nancy, he sorrowfully moaned, her eyes open and glazed. Almost every bone in her body must have broken. The impact had been so great.
“What now, Stan?” Cindy yelled, exiting her vehicle.
Stan panicked, opening his door, he fumbled onto the asphalt. He felt weak. Then, he noticed blood, he was badly bleeding. She towered over him.
Cindy raised the pistol, and said, “I placed a tracking bug on the Volvo, Stan! You make me want to die!”
“Then why point the gun at me?” Stan whispered, aching badly.
Word Count: 2,000