This breathing thing Lauren talked about isn't working. Maybe she's right. I should take up yoga and meditation and all that spiritual shit
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Slightly less normal. "Better." I said with a small smile. Yeah, the hangover's gone, but that doesn't mean I feel better. Damn it.
Remember Howell, she might've been playing you. You need to make sure you stay like nothing's wrong. Even if everything could be wrong, it doesn't make a difference.
"Dinner will be out in a minute. Filet mignon. And this time, you can have cookies for an appetizer instead of a dessert."
Fliet mignon? ... Cookies?
This isn't normal. She's definitely acting different, and I have no idea why. "Okay, thanks." I said with a nod, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. Carly being different, wearing different clothes, whatever... that doesn't have to mean anything.
"I know last night was crazy but..."
What the hell...
It's amazing how something so small can feel like the freakin' kiss of death.
"I'm glad things worked out the way they did."
What is she talking about? Is that some kind of threat without actually being one?
"I'll be right back, I have to get the wine."
"Sure." I nodded, keeping calm outwardly, and then heading over to the cookies. I picked one up, and looked over my shoulder to make sure Carly was still out of the room, and studied it. It looks fine. Smells fine. That doesn't mean I can trust it.
She could have poisoned them. If she's working for the other side, then I don't freakin' put it past her. But still, that's freakin' inhuman. Why would anyone do that to cookies?
I pulled off a small piece, and tried putting it on my tongue, just enough to get a taste of it. I don't know if that's completely safe, but what the hell.
About a half of a second after, I could taste something weird.
She poisoned the freakin' cookies.
I tossed it, then walked to the bathroom as fast as I could without making a sound, then washed my mouth out as much as I could. If I feel anything coming on, I'll get the hell out of here.
I made it back in just in time to wait for her to bring back the wine. "So, how was your day?"
Put on a smile, Howell. Even though she harmed the cookies, put on a smile.
He doesn't like this. Or he's terrified of me today, one or the other. There's just something in his eyes thats...was that always there? How come I didn't see it until now? I mean, sure. The wife is always the last to know, but the wife who does the same thing herself? I should have picked up on this.
And I can't stop thinking about how much nerve he has for saying he misses the old me, and then being suspicious of this! I can hear the footsteps. I know I made them a little different on purpose, but Sam shouldn't be so sure of that. He's the one who's trying to screw me over!
I have every right to try and poison him for the stunt he pulled in Arizona, but no, I didn't. I was the bigger person. And he's still trying to cover.
Why can't he just admit what he's trying to do? That would make this so much easier. Or he could let me hook him up to a polygraph for a few hours. I'd settle for that.
Besides, now I'm just dying to know what he really thinks of me.
I grabbed the bottle and went back into the dining room where he was waiting. After running. And for some reason, he thinks I didn't notice.
What the hell is with the smiling? Does he have a knife up his sleeve he's excited to stab me with?
"So, how was your day?"
"Honestly? I've had better." I threw the apron down. "We're having some...unexpected issues with a competing agency."
An agency who never really loved the other agency. Who only said they loved the other agency so that they could get into that agency's bed so that they could ruin their life from a better angle, when the agency could have just done that by dating the other agency into misery.
"It's exhausting, and I'm tired of it." And that's the truth." Anyway, how was yours?"
"We're having some...unexpected issues with a competing agency."
Gee. I wonder who that might be. "Really? That's tough." I took the bottle from her to pour myself a glass. I'm not drinking anything, who knows what else she's poisoned. But I still have to look normal. I can break when she does. If she does.
"It's exhausting, and I'm tired of it."
Not too far behind you, Car.
Or should I say 'Jennifer Jones'?
"Anyway, how was yours?"
"Some guy decided to mess with things." I said as I finished pouring the wine into my glass, and started to her, eyes watching hers. There's something there, but I can't tell what it is, and it's pissing me off. "Made the shoot today really hard."
"Some guy decided to mess with things. Made the shoot today really hard."
Excuse me, 'some guy'?
Asshole.
And let's not forget, he did agree to marry this specific 'some guy' to use and spy on for years. So if I'm 'some guy' then he's Britney Fucking Spears, and the widowmaker was there because he can't shoot something small to save his life.
Which, all things considered, isn't that much of a shock to me right now.
"I bet it did."
Like how hard it was for me to go back to the girls and tell them that my husband ruined the assignment because he decided to pick today of all days to try and kill me. And since he obviously knew how important killing Tank was, he could have saved that for another time.
Hell, I would have taken the day off for that one. His first mistake was being a lying bastard, but his second, which is almost as unforgiveable to me, was him being a lying bastard who let his deceit get in the way of my work!
I instinctively reached for the bottle as Sam dropped it, catching it in practically a second and slamming it to the floor when I realized what he'd done.
What I'd done.
"Shit, Sam!"
I'm busted, no sense in trying to cover anything now. They were right. I should never have come back here. I wanted to be wrong and I wasn't. I knew I wasn't. I should've waited until things were taken care of and come back to--
He's reaching, I should be reaching.
"Happy now?" I launched a kick into his abdomen, stopping him from getting out the weapon, and ran for the door.
I hate running. I never run. But if it's this or shooting him...
Somehow, that just decides it all. Right with the look on her face.
My wife is the fucking enemy.
"Shit, Sam!"
"Good reflexes." I said without calmly, and when I saw her hand move, I went for my gun, trying to pull it and get the upper hand before she could shoot me.
"Happy now?"
I'll be happy when I can breathe. Thanks a lot, sweetheart. "Just great." I pulled in air, watching her run for the door.
Oh hell no. Not after that kick.
I got up as fast as I could, running after her to cut her off, and having my gun ready this time. Just in case. Because I don't want to shoot her unless I have to. I don't think I could forgive myself if I killed her, but...
Damn it, she's the enemy. She's been playing me all this time. I shouldn't care if I kill her. So I'm not going to care.
She's inside her car. Shit.
I bolted across the lawn, trying to cut her off. I managed to jump over the first row of bushes into the Henderson's yard, but I got tripped up on the fence.
And my gun went off.
... And look where the bullet went.
My eyes went wide as it set in for both of us what I just did. Clearly she doesn't think it was an accident. Because I just shot her windsheild. Pretty close to her head.
Keep moving, you couldn't have done too much to him. Hard floor, hard headed idiot, everything should be fine. It wasn't your fault that he lied, or that you were his assignment, none of this has anything to do with you. It's business now. Not your problem.
Get the hell in the car, get it moving, and let someone else finish the rest of it.
Someone who isn't you and doesn't feel betrayed and wouldn't have any trouble hurting the jackass husband who's chasing you.
I got into the car, turned the key in the ignition, and backed out of our endlessly long pain in the ass driveway as fast as the damn thing would go. I'm good at this.
I'm bad at being a wife and good at being a killer. I should have stuck to it all along. Of course you can't have both, then shit like this happens and your husband ends up running after while youre running away from him which leads to--
HE FUCKING SHOT AT ME!
Oh screw running away. It's on now.
"I hate him."
I pulled the car the rest the way out, turned in the street, and made a beeline for my husband.
If he's trying to kill me, I have every right to try and kill him right back.
Let's hope you can jump a car better than you can jump a fence, baby.
I got over the fence as fast as I could, and looked up to see her coming right at me. She's going to hit me with the car?! I only shot at her!
... It was an accident, damn it!
"Wait! I didn't mean t--"
Jumping would be an intelligent thing right now.
I jumped up just as she hit me, and ended up on the hood of the car. "Honey, you need to slow down!" I yelled, holding on and looking over my shoulder. At the rate this is going, I'm so freakin' dead.
"We can talk about this!"
I almost lost my grip, and held on tighter, and somewhere in the back of my head I was picturing her ramming the car into something just to get me off.
I must be psychic, because now we're heading for a fence.
Suddenly I was remembering how much the Johnsons paid for that fence. And I almost actually felt guilty about it. It's amazing what you think of when the supposed love of your life is trying to freakin' kill you.
On some level, he's right. I won't deny that, I'll just go a little faster so that I can get this whole thing done and over with. That way I won't have to think about it, and he can separate his bodyparts from the pickets in the fence while I start divorce proceedings.
Unless he'd prefer something a little more violent. I could work that out for him too if he's as set on it as he acts like he is.
Acting. That's all this ever was.
I heard glass above me shatter, and shielded my face when he fell through the what used to be my sunroof into the back seat. Regaining control of the wheel, I refused to let myself look back at him. This is all his fault.
All of it.
"Have a nice life."
However long or short that may be.
I locked the wheel in place, opened my door, and jumped out of the car, rolling to soften the blow, but still taking a lot of the impact on my shoulder.
I'm not even going to waste my time watching him crash. Nope. I'm just going to find someplace to hide out until one of the girls can come and get me.
Even though I bet it's going to be great.
I'll have to get a copy of the paper in the morning and read about his DOL.
I felt the fence smack against my back and I got thrown up onto the roof of the car. I just barely managed to catch myself before I fell off, and ended up falling through the sunroof.
"Okay, that's it." I said as I tried to sit up, and then noticed what she was doing.
"Have a nice life."
...
"Damn it, Carly!" I yelled as I watched her jump out of the car. She didn't look back. Not once. Oh how wonderful it is to see that she cares. "Thanks so much!"
I looked over my shoulder to see where the car was headed. There's a little bump, and then nothing you can actually see. But it leads down a really long hill, I remember that much.
So far, so normal.
"How're you feeling?"
Slightly less normal. "Better." I said with a small smile. Yeah, the hangover's gone, but that doesn't mean I feel better. Damn it.
Remember Howell, she might've been playing you. You need to make sure you stay like nothing's wrong. Even if everything could be wrong, it doesn't make a difference.
"Dinner will be out in a minute. Filet mignon. And this time, you can have cookies for an appetizer instead of a dessert."
Fliet mignon? ... Cookies?
This isn't normal. She's definitely acting different, and I have no idea why. "Okay, thanks." I said with a nod, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. Carly being different, wearing different clothes, whatever... that doesn't have to mean anything.
"I know last night was crazy but..."
What the hell...
It's amazing how something so small can feel like the freakin' kiss of death.
"I'm glad things worked out the way they did."
What is she talking about? Is that some kind of threat without actually being one?
"I'll be right back, I have to get the wine."
"Sure." I nodded, keeping calm outwardly, and then heading over to the cookies. I picked one up, and looked over my shoulder to make sure Carly was still out of the room, and studied it. It looks fine. Smells fine. That doesn't mean I can trust it.
She could have poisoned them. If she's working for the other side, then I don't freakin' put it past her. But still, that's freakin' inhuman. Why would anyone do that to cookies?
I pulled off a small piece, and tried putting it on my tongue, just enough to get a taste of it. I don't know if that's completely safe, but what the hell.
About a half of a second after, I could taste something weird.
She poisoned the freakin' cookies.
I tossed it, then walked to the bathroom as fast as I could without making a sound, then washed my mouth out as much as I could. If I feel anything coming on, I'll get the hell out of here.
I made it back in just in time to wait for her to bring back the wine. "So, how was your day?"
Put on a smile, Howell. Even though she harmed the cookies, put on a smile.
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He doesn't like this. Or he's terrified of me today, one or the other. There's just something in his eyes thats...was that always there? How come I didn't see it until now? I mean, sure. The wife is always the last to know, but the wife who does the same thing herself? I should have picked up on this.
And I can't stop thinking about how much nerve he has for saying he misses the old me, and then being suspicious of this! I can hear the footsteps. I know I made them a little different on purpose, but Sam shouldn't be so sure of that. He's the one who's trying to screw me over!
I have every right to try and poison him for the stunt he pulled in Arizona, but no, I didn't. I was the bigger person. And he's still trying to cover.
Why can't he just admit what he's trying to do? That would make this so much easier. Or he could let me hook him up to a polygraph for a few hours. I'd settle for that.
Besides, now I'm just dying to know what he really thinks of me.
I grabbed the bottle and went back into the dining room where he was waiting. After running. And for some reason, he thinks I didn't notice.
What the hell is with the smiling? Does he have a knife up his sleeve he's excited to stab me with?
"So, how was your day?"
"Honestly? I've had better." I threw the apron down. "We're having some...unexpected issues with a competing agency."
An agency who never really loved the other agency. Who only said they loved the other agency so that they could get into that agency's bed so that they could ruin their life from a better angle, when the agency could have just done that by dating the other agency into misery.
"It's exhausting, and I'm tired of it." And that's the truth." Anyway, how was yours?"
Reply
Same here.
"We're having some...unexpected issues with a competing agency."
Gee. I wonder who that might be. "Really? That's tough." I took the bottle from her to pour myself a glass. I'm not drinking anything, who knows what else she's poisoned. But I still have to look normal. I can break when she does. If she does.
"It's exhausting, and I'm tired of it."
Not too far behind you, Car.
Or should I say 'Jennifer Jones'?
"Anyway, how was yours?"
"Some guy decided to mess with things." I said as I finished pouring the wine into my glass, and started to her, eyes watching hers. There's something there, but I can't tell what it is, and it's pissing me off. "Made the shoot today really hard."
Let's see how fast you are, Car.
I dropped the bottle, straight shot down.
Reply
Excuse me, 'some guy'?
Asshole.
And let's not forget, he did agree to marry this specific 'some guy' to use and spy on for years. So if I'm 'some guy' then he's Britney Fucking Spears, and the widowmaker was there because he can't shoot something small to save his life.
Which, all things considered, isn't that much of a shock to me right now.
"I bet it did."
Like how hard it was for me to go back to the girls and tell them that my husband ruined the assignment because he decided to pick today of all days to try and kill me. And since he obviously knew how important killing Tank was, he could have saved that for another time.
Hell, I would have taken the day off for that one. His first mistake was being a lying bastard, but his second, which is almost as unforgiveable to me, was him being a lying bastard who let his deceit get in the way of my work!
I instinctively reached for the bottle as Sam dropped it, catching it in practically a second and slamming it to the floor when I realized what he'd done.
What I'd done.
"Shit, Sam!"
I'm busted, no sense in trying to cover anything now. They were right. I should never have come back here. I wanted to be wrong and I wasn't. I knew I wasn't. I should've waited until things were taken care of and come back to--
He's reaching, I should be reaching.
"Happy now?" I launched a kick into his abdomen, stopping him from getting out the weapon, and ran for the door.
I hate running. I never run. But if it's this or shooting him...
God damnit, I have to run.
I'll let someone else kill him. Later.
Reply
My wife is the fucking enemy.
"Shit, Sam!"
"Good reflexes." I said without calmly, and when I saw her hand move, I went for my gun, trying to pull it and get the upper hand before she could shoot me.
"Happy now?"
I'll be happy when I can breathe. Thanks a lot, sweetheart. "Just great." I pulled in air, watching her run for the door.
Oh hell no. Not after that kick.
I got up as fast as I could, running after her to cut her off, and having my gun ready this time. Just in case. Because I don't want to shoot her unless I have to. I don't think I could forgive myself if I killed her, but...
Damn it, she's the enemy. She's been playing me all this time. I shouldn't care if I kill her. So I'm not going to care.
She's inside her car. Shit.
I bolted across the lawn, trying to cut her off. I managed to jump over the first row of bushes into the Henderson's yard, but I got tripped up on the fence.
And my gun went off.
... And look where the bullet went.
My eyes went wide as it set in for both of us what I just did. Clearly she doesn't think it was an accident. Because I just shot her windsheild. Pretty close to her head.
"... Oh dear God."
Move. Move now.
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Get the hell in the car, get it moving, and let someone else finish the rest of it.
Someone who isn't you and doesn't feel betrayed and wouldn't have any trouble hurting the jackass husband who's chasing you.
I got into the car, turned the key in the ignition, and backed out of our endlessly long pain in the ass driveway as fast as the damn thing would go. I'm good at this.
I'm bad at being a wife and good at being a killer. I should have stuck to it all along. Of course you can't have both, then shit like this happens and your husband ends up running after while youre running away from him which leads to--
HE FUCKING SHOT AT ME!
Oh screw running away. It's on now.
"I hate him."
I pulled the car the rest the way out, turned in the street, and made a beeline for my husband.
If he's trying to kill me, I have every right to try and kill him right back.
Let's hope you can jump a car better than you can jump a fence, baby.
Reply
I got over the fence as fast as I could, and looked up to see her coming right at me. She's going to hit me with the car?! I only shot at her!
... It was an accident, damn it!
"Wait! I didn't mean t--"
Jumping would be an intelligent thing right now.
I jumped up just as she hit me, and ended up on the hood of the car. "Honey, you need to slow down!" I yelled, holding on and looking over my shoulder. At the rate this is going, I'm so freakin' dead.
"We can talk about this!"
I almost lost my grip, and held on tighter, and somewhere in the back of my head I was picturing her ramming the car into something just to get me off.
I must be psychic, because now we're heading for a fence.
Suddenly I was remembering how much the Johnsons paid for that fence. And I almost actually felt guilty about it. It's amazing what you think of when the supposed love of your life is trying to freakin' kill you.
"Sweetheart, you don't want to do that!"
Reply
On some level, he's right. I won't deny that, I'll just go a little faster so that I can get this whole thing done and over with. That way I won't have to think about it, and he can separate his bodyparts from the pickets in the fence while I start divorce proceedings.
Unless he'd prefer something a little more violent. I could work that out for him too if he's as set on it as he acts like he is.
Acting. That's all this ever was.
I heard glass above me shatter, and shielded my face when he fell through the what used to be my sunroof into the back seat. Regaining control of the wheel, I refused to let myself look back at him. This is all his fault.
All of it.
"Have a nice life."
However long or short that may be.
I locked the wheel in place, opened my door, and jumped out of the car, rolling to soften the blow, but still taking a lot of the impact on my shoulder.
I'm not even going to waste my time watching him crash. Nope. I'm just going to find someplace to hide out until one of the girls can come and get me.
Even though I bet it's going to be great.
I'll have to get a copy of the paper in the morning and read about his DOL.
Reply
"Okay, that's it." I said as I tried to sit up, and then noticed what she was doing.
"Have a nice life."
...
"Damn it, Carly!" I yelled as I watched her jump out of the car. She didn't look back. Not once. Oh how wonderful it is to see that she cares. "Thanks so much!"
I looked over my shoulder to see where the car was headed. There's a little bump, and then nothing you can actually see. But it leads down a really long hill, I remember that much.
You... can't... freakin'... be serious.
"... Crap."
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