Love, Lies, & Crime: Anthology

by Kimberly Blalock

  “Josh, what do you mean the debt you owed to Drew?”

  My brows scrunch together as my eyes scowl over the small doctor. “Excuse me?”

  “You mentioned being in debt to Drew. Was this debt monetarily, repayment for his loyalty to you?”

  Fuck! Once the thoughts start to dance about in my head they release on their own volition as my mouth begins to move.

  “Doc, you wanted to know about Savannah. I ain’t in the fuckin’ mood to talk about either one of ‘em, so pick your battles with me. If we’re talkin’ Savannah since that’s the path you started down, fine. If you wanna discuss Drew, fuck off.”

  “Duly noted, Josh. However, you need to understand while we can agree not to discuss Drew at this time, you need to get comfortable with that topic because we will be discussing him in the future.” Her tone is demanding. “Now, please continue.”

  “That’s basically it. Tensions raised, our plan eventually crumbled, and before I’d realized it I nearly took her life. Now I’m here in this shit hole.”

  “The day of the accident, what event led you to attack her and Carly so violently?”

  “I had just made bail on the Malicious Criminal Intent charges. When I got home she and Carly were packing hers and the kids’ clothes. I lost it. I refuse to let her go. She’s mine. I promised her attempting to leave me wouldn’t be wise. She’s lucky I stopped when I did.”

  She glares at me curiously and the memory of crashin’ my lips against Savannah’s in a rush of fury filters to mind, and I smirk with complacency. I loved the taste of her fear. It always sent jolts of gratifying electricity through me, and before long I realized it wasn’t just a craving to taste her fear, but an addiction. Like crack to a junkie, hearing Savannah plead for mercy, the taste of her warm tears trailing down her soft jaw was the food source to my fury.

  Just as my cock begins to strain against the thin cotton pants, growing hard from the memory of evoking fear in my wife for kicks, Dr. Hampton speaks again interrupting my nearly wet dream. “If you were so intent on doing Savannah harm, what happened in that instance to pause your actions?”

  I scrub my hand roughly down the back of my neck trying to release the sudden tension in my tight muscles. Brailee and Braden are my only constants, the only reason seein’ the broad of daylight again matters. I miss my kids. Their laughs, smiles, and silly morning songs they would sing as they ate their cereal–I miss it all. It’s all a distant memory that I carry with me. I’m sure by now Savannah has filled their heads with lies about the monster their daddy has become, tryin’ her best to protect them from my evil. But she should know in the depths of her heart that I’d never cause any direct harm to my kids.

  “Josh, are you in there? Josh?” Dr. Hampton calls, and my eyes scan up from the floor meeting hers slowly on their ascent.

  I pinch the bridge of my nose while shaking my head to clear the cluster of memories that haunt me. “Yeah, I’m fine,” I mutter quietly Too much shit in the past that can’t be changed, but will haunt me forever.

  “Tell me about the memory that you were lost in, please.”

  “Brailee and Braden–my twins. They’re eight. When I was attacking Savannah, I saw their picture on the bookshelf and that was what stopped me in my assault. They’re innocent, just babies, and they need their momma to lead them through this ugly world. I knew I wouldn’t be there to raise them, it wouldn’t be fair to them to strip Savannah from their lives as well.”

  She nods, keeping her head cast down as she writes notes on the legal pad in her lap. “You love your children. That much I can see. But your love for Savannah concerns me. When you talk about Savannah it’s as if you are confused by your own thoughts and feelings. Almost as though you want one thing but you know it’s wrong, or you aren’t deserving enough of it. Does any of that make sense?”

  I nod boringly, growing frustrated by discussing this useless shit that will get me nowhere. It’s all in the past. James has already told me the outlook on my case is dim. I didn’t expect anything less.

  “Josh, you’re well aware of the fact that Savannah has filed a Petition for Dissolution of Marriage. That’s what caused our paths to cross. I understand that you are reluctant to let her go in a sense, but I’d like for you to explain why? You know the prison time you are facing. Do you love Savannah so much, or hate her so bad that you want her to endure the same suffering you must endure?”

  “Yes,” I answer calmly, and the fact that I didn’t distinguish which question I was answering wasn’t lost on her. She just sees no need in arguing with my madness apparently.

  Dr. Hampton clicks the pen closed then places the pen and legal pad on the table beside her. “You made good progress today, Josh.” She rolls her eyes up toward me, giving me a cautious glance before continuing, “But I need you to prepare yourself for the next session. I’m very interested in knowing more about Drew Varney and the loyalty behind your friendship. I know Drew is a sensitive subject for you, but that’s why I’m forewarning you now, so you’ll know what to expect when you walk in this room next week.”

  After my last session with Dr. Hampton, I had time to think over our discussion about Savannah and our family life. Savannah filed for a divorce weeks ago. In the recesses of my mind, I expected it to happen, but in my heart, that hollow part of my chest, I prayed like hell she would forgive me… She’d feel guilty that the kids were without their daddy and find a way to have the charges dropped. She’d forgiven me countless times before.

  Then that dreadful day came. I felt like I was walking the final steps of my life as I approached the inmate visitation room. There was a foreboding sense of anguish looming over me that I hadn’t felt in years. James didn’t hem-haw around about jack shit. He slammed the divorce papers down on the table and slid a pen toward me. At the young age of thirty I thought I was experiencing my first heart attack—the stress-induced worry finally doing me in… My chest felt so fuckin’ heavy and tight. I couldn’t breathe or see straight, a cloak of gray hazing my vision. Turns out, symptoms of a broken heart are similar to that of a heart attack.

  I managed to keep my shit together until yard time, then all hell broke loose. I was eager to draw blood. Just the desolate feeling of emptiness that ached my chest was enough to send me over the edge, but the splay of blood on my hands was enough to reel me in from the cusp of insanity. I knew attacking a guard would get my ass tossed under the jail, which was just what I wanted. I needed the solace to clear my mind and come to terms with the reality that I faced.

  I sulked for ten days, only exhaling the frustrations out through pushups against the cold concrete. I came to the pain-staking revelation that Savannah and our kids are better off without me. I’ve caused them enough suffering, and with the number of crimes I’ve being charged with, there is no telling if or when I’ll see the light of day.

  On my final day in Solitary, I laid my demons to rest and accepted my fate. I said my final goodbye to the love of my life.

  Savannah Marie,

  It’s dark in here, the light continually dimming - just barely a soft glow in sight now. I fuckin’ hate it. I feel like I’m suffocating and I beg death to set me free each time air expels from my body.

  But the suffering, Savannah, this fuckin’ suffering, this all-consuming ache that I feel in my heart will always pale in comparison to the suffering you endured at my hand. My God nothing can ever relate. I can never forgive myself for destroying you, for breaking the beautiful soul of the woman who stole my heart, giving me the only love I’ve ever felt. I was never deserving of the love you showered me with, and I hate you so fuckin’ much for ever thinkin’ I did. I hate you for letting me break you, for letting me rob you of your strength. I wish you would have fought back, wish you would have hated me from the start, but the past can’t be changed. I hate you so damn much, Savannah, but I love you even more.

  I never knew that love could be so strong, such a persistent need for attention. You gave me all the things
I always wanted, but never earned. Our children, my precious Brailee and Braden are the greatest measure of my life. My reason for breathing, although I’m most undeserving of it all. Protect them Savannah, guide them through this Hell called life with loving arms embracing them. Their hearts reflect the beauty of yours, not the ugly, monstrous blackened heart of their disgraceful father. They’re too young to understand everything now, and I pray that you’ll allow them to keep their memory of me intact. They don’t know my darkness, Savannah. And I pray they never do.

  Drew fuckin’ Varney. Savannah, I beg you to do whatever you can to protect my family and yours from that fuckin’ depraved bastard. He manipulated and controlled me much like I did you, for as long as I can remember. I accept my sins, but the evil among them starts with Drew and I won’t stop until that fuckin’ bastard is dead.

  Breathe, Savannah Marie. Enjoy your life, our children and always bask in the beauty that surrounds you. I was too blind to see it when I had the chance, and I wish you had the strength then to open my eyes so I could see everything clearly. I’m unworthy of your forgiveness, but you’re too gracious to cling to the hatred that you carry for me. Let it go. Not for me, but so you can find the happiness that I deprived you of for far too long. Open your heart to love, Savannah. There are few monsters among men, few men as sinister as me. You deserve someone who will treasure your heart and beautiful soul.

  -Josh

  “Moore!” The guard shouts against the glass, clinkin’ his baton against the heavy steel door. “Scoot your ass. Gotta visitor.”

  I continue my pushups ignorin’ the fucker, concentrating on my ragged breathing as I fight through the rage that consumes me. It’s never gonna dissipate. I had hoped that by setting Savannah free, somewhere deep inside my blackened heart I’d find peace. I was fuckin’ wrong. I’m at an even stronger war with myself now, the demons that I’ve tucked away for so long rearing their fuckin’ heads, tormenting and teasing me. After signing the divorce petition, I had a real bad fuckin’ day. Unfortunately, so did the fuckin’ prick who tried to rush me off the weight bench. The anger had been brewin’ for too damn long and I exploded, beatin’ his fuckin’ face against the concrete wall of the weight room. So I’m slummin’ it down in Solitary. And let me tell you, that hell I was livin’ in is the damn Ritz fuckin’ Palace compared to the bowels of Solitary Confinement. I can smell the raw sewage seepin’ into the cracked basement walls, rats and mice runnin’ amuck, crawlin’ on me in my sleep.

  “Final warning, asshole, or I’m tazin’ your big ass!” The guard barks out his warning maliciously. I press up to my feet and stride to the steel door placing my hands through the slot. He snaps the cuffs in place, then instructs me to step back as he slams the door open.

  “Who the hell’s here for me?” I ask as he leads me through the corridor, silently hoping it’s Savannah. I know it’s farfetched. After all she owes me nothing when I owe her everything. But it would be nice to apologize for wrecking her life face to face. Written words on a slip of paper can never do justice to the spoken word. At least then she could see that it’s heartfelt and endearing.

  He shoots me a cocky sneer saying, “Fuck if I know who she is, but I wouldn’t mind findin’ out.”

  He best pray to God he ain’t talkin’ ‘bout Savannah, or I’ll break his damn jaw. I’m shocked to have a visitor. James McCoy hasn’t been here since I signed the divorce petition a few weeks ago, and when I call asking for information about my case I get his secretary’s bitchy attitude and lame excuses which I’m fuckin’ tired of. I’m payin’ him good money to pull my ass from this hell, yet it seems he’s only workin’ to keep me in here longer. Drew, well, that fuck turned his back on me the moment our plan unraveled, feedin’ me to the lions to save his own greedy ass.

  Instead of taking me to the inmate visitation room, the guard shuffles me down a separate corridor and into a private room which is empty. “Where the fuck is she?” I growl, craning my neck to look at him.

  “Sit your ass down and be patient, Moore.” He shoves me down into the seat, and I cast him a piercin’ scowl. Pisses me the fuck off bein’ touched, these bastards having control over me like this.

  He slams the door closed, leaving me in silence while I wait for the mystery visitor. I know it ain’t Savannah or they’d sent me to the inmate visitation room, not here.

  My patience begins to wear thin, the clock tickin’ on the wall the only sound filling the stark silence. After ten minutes, the door swings open and I glance up momentarily to see a suited prick and legs with long blonde tendrils stride into the small room. I cast my eyes back down to the peeling table top, brooding and angry from waiting so damn long. They both sit down scooting their chairs forward, and the prick places a thick file on top of the table.

  “Mr. Moore, it’s been a while.” I look up hearing the familiar voice, and my jaw tics when recognition of the leggy blonde washes over me.

  “What the hell, Alisa? Where’s James and who the fuck is this stiff clown? I didn’t ask for a damn substitute counsel so y’all can pack your asses back to James and tell him he needs to get his shit together!” I bark out, frustration clawing through my skin.

  “Mr. Moore, my name is Agent Warren, and I’m with the FBI. We’d like to ask you a couple questions.”

  “Fuck’s goin’ on Alisa? Why would James allow a fuckin’ Fed to question me and send you in his place?” I bark out.

  “Josh, I’m not here in James’ place.” She reaches into her bag and slides a small identification card across the table and I pick it up, twisting it in my cuffed hands to look at it. At first I don’t recognize the woman in the photo, but the harder I look, the more and more I can see it. Her hair is different, instead of the long platinum blonde tendrils of curls she wears now, in the photographs it as dark as night, neatly pinned at the nape of her neck. The seductive smile that usually graces her fuck me lips is pursed into a thin line in the photo, but her eyes are exactly the same.

  I sling the card back in her direction and shoot up outta the chair, my eyes blurring over as rage fills my chest. “You’re a fuckin’ federal agent?” I shout.

  “Yes, I am,” she confirms, confidently.

  “Well ain’t this some fucked up shit.” I chuckle. This just keeps getting better and better. Alisa has been James McCoy’s secretary for a couple of years now. She’s also the office slut who fucks both James and Drew, hard tellin’ how many other clients she’s fucked. “Why the hell you here then, Alisa? Hell, you have all you’d need to toss all three of us under the fuckin’ prison. So tell me, why am I in here alone, while Drew and James both have their damn freedom?”

  “Because we need your help.” She replies opening the folder, pulling what looks to be pictures out and laying them across the table. “The FBI has been investigating Black Pike for a few years. Once you were arrested a team was sent in to test the chemicals and to prepare the mines to be closed off.”

  She flips the first picture over, and I try my damnedest to stay passive as I look over the familiar face that abused me as a teen. “This is Evelyn Hager; do you recognize her Josh?” she questions, and I shake my head yes because she already knows the fuckin’ answer. Hell, her son was one of my best friends growin’ up; that shit ain’t too hard for any average Joe-Shmo to figure out. “She was reported missing over ten years ago by her husband, Elliott Hager. The local and state police investigated her disappearance for months to no avail. Her husband mentioned he suspected she had been having an affair for years, but no evidence was clear to support the claim. Her case went cold until recently.”

  She continues to flip the other pictures over, and I grit my teeth together as my stomach rolls a vicious wave at the decaying corpse in the photographs. “Evelyn Hager’s body was found in the depths of Black Pike with two gunshot wounds to the head.” She glances up at me with her lips pursed thin, glaring at me inquisitively, gauging the shock that’s plastered to my face. “Care to explain how your best friend
’s mother ended up dead in your coal mines, Josh?”

  Two fuckin’ gunshot wounds to the fuckin’ head? Fuckin’ hell is goin’ on?” I cup my cuffed hands over my face, trying to steady my breathing. This has to be one sick fuckin’ joke.

  “You gotta take control of what she took from you, Josh. You just ain’t been the same since she started her fuckin’ games,” Drew says.

  “Fuck off, Drew! I’ll deal with this shit on my own. Don’t wanna do things your way. That ain’t me.” I spit at him through grit teeth. I know Drew’s pissed. Things have been fucked since he caught me chained to Evelyn’s bed with her ridin’ my dick two years ago. He knew then what had caused me to change so much and had been tryin’ to recover the old me since. But the old Josh was dead and gone. I was a completely different guy. I was broody and angry, humiliated of the secrets that burdened me. I didn’t want to let anyone in. Fuckin’ hell, I just wanted to die. The time in my life when fuckin’ pussy should be the center of my universe, I was pushin’ every sweet ass that approached me away. I hated sex, the thought of it made me sick. What should be pleasurable and erotic had become a disgusting, gut-wrenching act in my mind. Fighting was my release. It was my euphoria to escape my demons, to discharge the pent-up hatred I felt. I craved control, refused to ever let another person touch me without permission and refused to ever fall at the hands of someone else.

  “You want fuckin’ revenge? Take that shit! Give her a fuckin’ taste of the pain she inflicted on you!” He shouts in my face, the scent of bourbon heavy on his breath.

  “Drew, you saw how outta control I got with Clay at the party last night. Damn bastard runnin’ off at the mouth.” I shake my head in disbelief. One guy shouldn’t feel this unhinged. I need fuckin’ help, not revenge. “I don’t know that I could stop with her. My restraint is diminishing.” He hasn’t let up on this shit for months. Tellin’ me that retribution is the only peace I’ll find from my abuse. I know he’s fuckin’ right. I want to see the fuckin’ fear in her eyes as I control her, taking back what she took from me. But I don’t want to be that man.