Final Review

by Dawn Cano

  “Sit back down,” Wade said quietly and Mark listened. He took out the handcuffs and walked over with his knife still in the other hand. Wade didn’t have to say a thing. Mark put his hands behind the chair as Wade put the cuffs on him. He walked back to his bag and retrieved the pot and booze, and after a couple more shots of the whiskey, he walked back over to Mark and set the knife down next to him on a coffee table. Wade fired up a joint he’d rolled earlier and picked the blade back up.

  “So, what you looking at on the computer, porn?”

  On the screen in front of him was a recognizable blonde-haired woman. She was lying on a lounge chair by a pool, and she was naked. You could see her ass plain as day and after staring at that for a while, it hit Wade. It was the neighbor from the top of the street with the giant house. Becky Stephenson, or something like that. She was rich and a fitness nut; he’d seen her jog by the house a hundred times in her stretch pants with that perfect ass, and now here it was, right in front of him on this pervert’s computer screen.

  “Wow, Marky Mark. You are quite the voyeur aren’t you?”

  “I swear, it was just this one time. I swear.”

  “Oh, cut the bullshit, you fat bastard. I’ve seen you with your camera taking pictures all the time. As a matter of fact, I know you have pictures of my girlfriend. Show ‘em to me.”

  “No. No, I don’t. I swear.”

  Wade slashed him across his face with the blade, cutting his cheek open as Mark cried out in pain. “Don’t lie. Think about it again. You have until I take another shot, and finish this joint.”

  Mark began sobbing like a baby as Wade gulped almost the rest of the bottle down. He went back to Mark and put his joint out on his forehead. “What’s it gonna be fat boy, you got pictures of my woman or not?”

  “Yes, yes. I do. Okay? I’m sorry,” Mark cried again as Wade took off the handcuffs.

  “Show me, and I might let you live.”

  Mark reluctantly brought up the pictures on the computer, and Wade saw all he needed to see. As soon as Emma’s bare ass showed up on the screen, that was all that it took. Wade grabbed Mark’s hair with one hand and slit his throat from behind, as the blood splattered all over Emma’s body on the screen. The creepy neighbor was dead, and he wouldn’t be spying on Wade's girlfriend anymore. Wade’s work was almost done here. He navigated back to the picture of Becky and printed a copy for himself. He put it in his bag with the bottle, handcuffs and knife. It was time to go home to his woman.

  ***

  Journal Entry 33

  Today has been a strange day. The bad reviews keep coming in and people still find my book to be “tame” and “unrealistic.” as I sit here typing this, I'm considering ending my short-lived writing career, pulling my books from Amazon, and getting a “real” job. Maybe this isn't the right path for me.

  Anyway, enough about that.

  Things became even more weird when Wade got home from work today. Not only did he come home early, he was absolutely trashed. I could smell the whiskey on him and I wasn't standing anywhere near him, and he had a feral, glazed look in his eyes. He walked in the front door, slamming it behind him, and never even looked at me as he dropped his bag on the floor by the front door, climbed the stairs, and took a shower.

  After I was sure he wasn't coming back down for a while, I opened his bag. I realize that makes me sound like a nosy bitch, but I had to know if there was something in there that might tell me what set him off. I kept my ears open for the sound of the shower turning off and peered inside the black canvas bag.

  Laying on top of the bag was an empty whiskey bottle which I removed and placed on the floor. The other things I found were shocking. I removed a pair of bloody handcuffs and a bloody knife. Inside the bag, I also found a bag of weed and three joints Wade kept inside a sandwich bag. The rest of the black bag contained his work clothes, a baseball cap, and tucked along the side of the bag was a folded piece of paper. I removed the paper and opened it. I stared at the naked woman who was pictured sunbathing by a pool I didn't recognize. Her face seemed familiar, but I couldn't place her, and I didn't have time to get angry about the fact that my boyfriend was hiding pictures of naked women from me, because as soon as I looked at the picture, I heard the shower turn off.

  I placed the paper back where I found it, threw everything back in the bag, zipped it up, then took a seat on the couch and waited for him to come downstairs. I heard him walk from the bathroom to the bedroom and open the creaky closet door. He came downstairs a minute later wearing an old Nirvana t-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts. He was still drunk and he stumbled, almost missing the bottom step completely.

  “How was work?” I asked.

  Wade walked past me, into the kitchen as he said, “Good. We were dead so Louie let me go early.”

  “What time did you leave?”

  “I don't know. An hour or so ago, I guess. Why?'

  I didn't know what to say to him. “Just wondering. Did you go anywhere after work?”

  “Jesus Christ, Emma. What's with the third degree all of a sudden?”

  “Come sit with me for a minute. I want to talk to you about something.”

  Wade grabbed a can of Coke from the fridge and joined me on the couch. I decided to change the subject, at least for now. “Remember the other day I told you I was getting bad reviews? They're still coming. My overall rating for the second and third books is down to two stars. I'm thinking of pulling both books and retiring from writing.”

  Wade stood up. “Like hell you will. I told you I would help you make your books more realistic, and I'll help you write the fucking things if I have to. I have a plan in mind that will help you add so much realism to your stories, you'll never get another bad review again.” He smiled and it was a smile I've never seen before.

  “Plan? What did you have in mind?”

  He pulled me to my feet and lifted my arms, placing them around his neck. “You'll see.” Then he kissed me with a hunger I'd never felt before. Although he brushed his teeth, I could still smell the faint odor of whiskey on his breath and knew that the alcohol, combined with whatever he did after work, made him horny. I wanted to talk to him more, but as he kissed me, he let his hands wander, pinching my nipples, making me gasp with pain. He pulled my hair back, exposing my neck and began kissing and biting me. I felt myself get wet and as he pressed himself up against me, his hard on was tough to ignore. I moved my hand down to stroke his growing cock, but he grabbed my wrist and moved my hand up to his chest. “Let's go upstairs. I wanna try something.”

  He didn't let go of my arm as he reached down and picked up his bag. Leading me up the stairs, we entered the bedroom, and he dropped the bag and pushed my face up against the wall and started fingering my ass from behind. I was only wearing a short t-shirt and boy shorts, but he quickly tore those away before dragging me over and pushing me down on the bed. I landed face first, so I didn't notice him pulling his handcuffs out of the bag, and as I turned over, he grabbed my right wrist and held it against the bedpost, securing it into place with the handcuffs. My left wrist, he secured over my head. I lay there naked and helpless, my head propped up on two pillows and my nipples standing at attention.

  Wade stood in front of me and removed his clothes. As he took off his shorts, his erection sprang free and I found myself turned on by the sight of him and the anticipation of what he had in store for me. Despite how crazy he was acting, I found myself trusting him implicitly. I wanted him to use me, I wanted to beg him to hurt me.

  Roughly, Wade pushed my thighs apart and buried his head between my legs. He licked and nibbled my clit until I almost couldn't stand it anymore before burying his tongue deep inside me. He tongue fucked me until he brought me to the brink of orgasm, then he abruptly stood up and climbed on top of me. His dick was lined up with my pussy, but he didn't put it inside me.

  Breathlessly, I whispered, “Please.”

  That's when he slapped me hard across the face, which oddl
y enough, turned me on even more. “Shut up. I'll fuck you when I'm ready to fuck you.” He leaned over and took my nipple into his mouth, sucking and biting it until it hurt. He moved on to the other side and by then, all I wanted was for him to fuck me hard and fast, but he refused. He put the head in, making me moan, but instead of letting me cum, he moved up closer to my mouth. “Suck it,” was all he said.

  I took him in my mouth and gently bit down as I sucked him. He moaned and at that moment, I was more concerned with making him cum than enjoying my own satisfaction, but right before he hit the point of no return, he pulled out of my mouth and got off me long enough to flip me over onto my stomach. Twisting my arms like that hurt like hell, but I didn't care. I just needed him inside me.

  Finally, he shoved his hard, hot cock into my ass and I felt the sweet release of orgasm quickly approaching as Wade played with my clit. I tried holding off until I knew Wade was about to cum, but I couldn't wait any longer. My body shuddered and tightened as I had the most intense orgasm of my life. I screamed out as I heard Wade moan in pleasure and felt his hot, thick cum shoot into my ass.

  When we were both finished, he pulled out and flopped down next to me. It took me a minute to catch my breath enough to speak, but once I was able to talk, Wade was softly snoring next to me. It didn't take me long to fall asleep next to him, even though my hands were still secured above my head.

  ***

  When Emma awoke, Wade was already awake and coming out of the bathroom, naked and wet, as he dried himself off while staring at her.

  “You think you could uncuff me, babe?” Emma smiled at him.

  “I will. But first, go ahead and ask.”

  Emma was confused, “Ask what?”

  “You’re not stupid, and neither am I. You’re a horror writer for Christ's sake! Surely you noticed the blood on those handcuffs.”

  “Well, I did, but…”

  “But what, Emma? Spit it out. You want to lecture me about getting drunk yesterday don’t you?”

  “No, babe, you know I wouldn’t lecture you. I was concerned. Of course I worry about you. You know that.”

  Wade climbed onto the bed and grabbed her by her knees, spreading her legs apart. “Why were you there, Emma?”

  Before Emma had a chance to answer though, he was inside her, deep and hard. Emma gasped in pain, but Wade didn’t move. He sat still with her legs over his shoulders and leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Don’t worry, Emma, you don’t have to answer me. You won’t have to worry about your neighbor friend anymore, either. I took care of him.”

  “You took care of him? What do you mean?”

  “I mean he’s fucking dead,” Wade said matter-of-factly as he proceeded to fuck her. She was too frightened to say anything, and that was exactly what he wanted. Just as he was about to finish, Wade pulled out and shoved his cock in Emma’s mouth. He made her swallow every last drop before finally releasing her from the bed.

  “Get a shower, get dressed, and meet me downstairs. It’s time to talk.” He unlocked the handcuffs as he spoke.

  “Okay.” Emma stretched her arms and legs out as she realized that she was sore all over. She was looking forward to a shower, but not so much to whatever Wade wanted to talk about downstairs. She hoped she would get some answers, but Emma had a bad feeling that things were about to get much worse.

  Wade was on the porch, waiting for her. He was smoking a cigarette and drinking a soda, sitting on the steps, staring off into space. Emma sat down next to him and waited for him to speak.

  “You have the beginning of your story now.” He spoke calmly.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Mark. The neighbor. He was a fat, old, fucking pervert and now he’s a dead one. There’s the beginning of your story.”

  “About that, honey, what are you gonna do?”

  “I’m not going to do anything. He’s dead. His fat ass can sit there and rot. By the time anyone finds him, there’ll be nothing left. I’m not fucking worried about it, and you shouldn't be either.”

  “Okay. So, what’s next?”

  “Next, you get involved.”

  “I get involved?”

  “Well, you sure as hell can’t write about new experiences without actually having any new experiences.”

  “I guess you’re right. So, what did you have in mind?”

  “A home invasion. We’re gonna rob someone.”

  “What? Who?”

  “I don’t know who. We just pick somebody randomly.”

  Emma wasn’t happy with this idea at all but she found herself playing along anyway. “Okay. What do we do?”

  “We pick someone, find out where they live and we rob them. It's that simple.”

  “So, we’re not going to kill them, right?”

  Wade smiled at her. “No. Of course not, baby. The neighbor was an exception. He had to go. I do have an idea to make this even more interesting, though.”

  “What’s that?” Emma was afraid to ask.

  “Remember a long time ago when we were talking about threesomes and shit? You said you’d like to see me fuck some other woman someday.”

  Emma blushed as the conversation came back to her. “Yeah, I remember.”

  “Well, that’s what we’ll do. We’ll find a woman for me to fuck, and you can watch it all, baby. Then we rob her, and you'll have ideas for your story.”

  “Who says whomever you pick is just going to let you fuck them?” Emma laughed.

  “Who says they’re gonna have a choice?” Wade smirked, and it was at that moment that Becky Stephenson jogged by in her tight exercise pants. Wade’s smirk turned into a full-on smile as he looked at Emma. “Looks like we found a winner. We’ll head out later tonight. I’m going back inside.”

  “Okay,” was all Emma said as she sat there a while longer, thinking about the picture in her boyfriend’s bag. Emma started to feel a little hatred for this Becky woman. She knew it was unfair, that this stranger had done nothing wrong. She knew that Becky was going to become an innocent victim and part of her was looking forward to it. Nobody was really innocent, Emma thought as she realized there was already blood on her hands. Her neighbor was dead, and that was all her fault, and it was only the beginning of whatever chaos was yet to come.

  ***

  Journal Entry 34

  As I write this, I am of two minds. On the one hand, I am scared to death, and on the other, I am more exhilarated than I've ever been.

  Wade confessed to killing the neighbor. You know, the old guy who borrowed our corkscrew? Yeah, him. He killed him yesterday, or at least that's what he told me. I don't know how or why, and he wouldn't tell me anything other than to say he was leaving his body in his house to rot. At the time, I did my best to hide my shock, but my heart was beating out of my chest. More on this later.

  After he confessed to killing the old guy, Wade came up with a plan to help me write a realistic horror story. It involved breaking into a neighbor's house and committing a robbery. At the time, I felt myself wondering who this man was, but again, I kept my thoughts to myself as he selected the woman who lived at the end of the street – the same woman whose picture Wade has in his bag. I know this woman, Becky something or other, isn't at fault here. She has no idea Wade is spying on her, and she does nothing to warrant the attention she receives. I say nothing, but she jogs around wearing those fucking yoga pants...but, I digress.

  His plan was simple: Wait until she goes home from her nightly jog and break in while she's in the shower. It sounded easy enough, but I tried playing devil's advocate, hoping he'd listen to the voice of reason. It didn't happen.

  “What if she doesn't live alone?”

  Wade was already getting annoyed. “She does.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I just know, Emma. Jesus, do you think I'd be suggesting we do this if I thought we'd have any problems? Just do as you're told and everything will be fine.”

  Looking back, I don't know why I agreed t
o go along with it. I mean, sure, the thought was exciting, but I sure as hell didn't want to go to jail, and if I'm being honest, I was more afraid of Wade than I was of getting caught.

  I thought of another question. “Do you know where she lives?”

  Wade looked at me with dead eyes. “At the end of the street. Look, this is what we're gonna do. She usually jogs by our house at around 7:20, right?”

  I nodded, even though I had no idea what time she jogs by.

  “She travels through the neighborhood, arriving back home at around 8:15. Most people will grab a glass of water after jogging and before heading to the shower, so I'm thinking that we should be able to get in at around 8:25. We go in, take a few things and get out before anyone knows we've been there.”

  Wade made it sound so easy. I couldn't argue with his logic and found myself going along with his plan without really thinking. I just hoped she didn't have an alarm system or we'd be finished. As it turned out, she didn't, or she had one that wasn't armed, because getting into her house was as easy as opening the front door.

  We walked in, Wade carrying his bag and me looking like a scared doe, not believing that we just walked into someone else's home. Who doesn't lock their doors in today's world? Anyway, we stood looking at the marble flooring in the foyer, and glancing up the stairs at where Wade was certain Becky would be. Climbing the stairs, my stomach threatened to empty itself all over this woman's house, and I was glad I hadn't eaten anything since breakfast. We reached the top of the stairs, and Wade stopped. I assumed he was listening for the shower because he smiled as he took a left turn at the top of the stairs.

  Like the front door, the bathroom door was unlocked. Wade motioned for me to open it, and I turned the knob as he dug in his bag and produced our hammer. That was when I got scared. I didn't want him to kill again, and I certainly didn't want him to kill someone with me watching. Thankfully, my fears were unfounded, at least at that time.