“He’s at work. I kind of wanted to just talk to you one on one.”
It took all of Jesse’s willpower not to do cartwheels all over the restaurant.
I knew it, he thought triumphantly. Chase Slater you are finally going down. I have defeated you. Angie is mine. Forever.
“So what’s up?” he asked casually.
“I have some really great news and I wanted you to be the first to know,” she exclaimed taking his hand in hers and making him melt. Her skin was so smooth, so soft. She truly had an angel’s touch.
“Yeah?” Jesse grinned wide, sure he knew what Angie’s great news was.
“Chase and I are getting married,” she ejaculated before letting out an excited little scream.
“What?” Jesse was sure his ears were playing tricks on him.
“He asked me last night. We’re getting married. As soon as possible.”
“That’s great,” Jesse said, finding speech difficult thanks to the grapefruit sized lump that had grown in his throat and praying he wouldn’t burst into tears. “When?”
“As soon as possible,” Angie repeated, smiling.
My life is over, he thought defeated. I’ve lost her. Forever. Unless …
“Who’s paying for the wedding?” he asked suddenly. “Your folks?” He threw in money to try and rub Angie’s face in the fact that Chase didn’t have any.
“That’s the best part. We’re not having a wedding. Chase and I are eloping.”
“What?” Jesse’s heart dropped and he wanted to throw his coffee cup against the wall. And use the shards to cut out Chase’s heart.
“In a few days. We’re packing up some stuff and driving to California. We’re going to have a wedding on the beach during sunset. It’ll be just like a movie. Isn’t that romantic?”
“Yeah. Romantic,” Jesse deadpanned.
Jesse thought it was disgusting. This was like something from a movie alright. A horror movie.
Jesse’s mind was a swirling riptide of thoughts. He smiled and acted like Angie wasn’t making a huge mistake and throwing her whole future away but inside he was worried. Madam Theodora would not be pleased. Jesse knew he would have to perform the sacrifice soon. He would have to do it within the next few days.
Eight
Chase was a greasy mess. His tattered jeans were stiff thanks to motor oil and his white tank top had been stained an inky black color. His tattered New York Yankees baseball cap was dripping oil all over the already dirty floor. Sliding out from under the old car he was working on, he wiped the oil and dirt from his arms and itched his nose, placing a thin black dot right on the tip.
Taking a sip of water he slid underneath the car. His sneakers lightly tapped the ground as he hummed to himself. He was excited as a little kid on Christmas day at the thought of spending the rest of his life with Angie and all the fun things he would be able to do with his kids. In a few days they would drive out to California and begin their new lives joined together forever.
Chase couldn’t stop thinking about his baby. He wondered what it would be like. What his baby would grow up to be. He couldn’t decide though if he wanted a boy or a girl. A boy would be fun. He could teach him to play baseball. Teach him all about cars. But a girl would be cool too. He could play dress up with her. Push her on swings. He knew one thing for sure though he would spoil his baby rotten. If it was a boy he would be his best friend. If it was a girl she would be daddy’s little girl forever.
Jesse’s nose wrinkled as soon as he walked into the garage. The place stank like Hell. There was grease and grime everywhere. The powerful odor of fuel and motor oil raped his nostrils. Jesse’s eyes rolled back in his head and he was sure his face turned the color of pea soup. His throat itched and he had to place both hands over his mouth to keep from hacking to death.
Christ, he thought disgusted. How could Angie actually fuck a guy who worked in a place like this? How could she carry his baby? The little bastard was probably going to come out covered with grease and holding a monkey wrench.
Seeing the place where Chase worked made Jesse feel better about the task he had to perform. He was doing Angie a favor. No way would she be happy with Chase. Hell, he could barely make enough money to support himself. How was the idiot going to support a wife and a child? Angie wasn’t in love with Chase. It was just lust. A few months of being a mechanic’s wife would bring her to her senses. Jesse knew that Angie had never had to work a day in her life. After a couple months of needing to go to work to support her deadbeat poor husband and having to take care of his creepy kid, she would come running into Jesse’s arms, begging him to save her. She was lucky that she had a friend as good as Jesse. A friend who truly loved her and would save her from that Hell.
Jesse looked around the garage. There was no one around. He thought maybe everyone had gone to lunch. He was almost glad that he would have an excuse to get out of there and wait out in the fresh air for Chase to return when he saw his abnormally long legs sticking out from under an old Thunderbird.
Jesse looked around, needing to validate that he was really alone and that there were no security cameras around. He slowly walked toward the Thunderbird. He stared down at Chase’s legs. His heart was pounding. His stomach felt like an out of control rollercoaster as it did loop-de-loop after loop-de-loop.
For just a split second he thought about not going through with it. He could just run. Forget the whole thing. Forget Madam Theodora. The sacrifice. He could go somewhere where no one knew him. He could change his name, his hair color. Maybe have plastic surgery so he would never have to worry about Madam Theodora finding him.
His conscious was only able to speak for a few minutes before the image of Chase’s dirty body violating Angie’s gorgeous one filled him with rage. The idea of Chase’s body, dripping with grease, soiling Angie’s, picturing his penis violating her womb, made Jesse’s face boil red with rage. The idea of having to watch Angie’s stomach grow bigger and bigger as Chase’s bastard grew inside her made his hatred boil over until he was so dizzy he almost passed out. Knowing Angie she would probably make him be the Godfather of the thing after she punched it out.
Reaching into his jacket pocket his fist clutched the dagger Madam Theodora had given him tight. Pulling it out of his pocket, he watched the way the light gleamed off its silver blade. The cobra’s ruby eyes seemed to glisten as it anticipated the kill. He didn’t know if it was his imagination or not but he swore the handle felt warm, almost as if it was excited about what it was going to be used for. He swore the handle felt alive. He no longer felt the cold gold but the smooth scales of a living breathing snake. He could feel the muscles move through the top of its head. If Jesse didn’t know better he would swear he heard the hissing of a hungry cobra anxiously awaiting its kill.
Sweat had caused Jesse’s hair to stick to his forehead. His stomach did excited flip flops as it rose and fell heavily. The tip of his tongue peeked out of the corner of his mouth and sensuously licked his moist lips. Jesse was shocked when he realized his penis was fully engorged. It disturbed him a little that the thought of murdering Chase excited him sexually but he was glad that his whole being was anticipating the kill.
Raising the knife he thought of how sweet it would be to cut all of Chase’s limbs off. Slowly. One at a time. He would savor every cut of the knife. He would make sure that Chase always remembered the pain of the knife.
Jesse could see the whole thing in his mind. First he would stab Chase in the back, he could hear the crunch of his spine and his painful agonizing groans. Then he would roll him over and stab him in the stomach and chest. He would cut his nipples off. Carve crude designs on his chest and stomach. Jesse’s stomach rose and fell rapidly as he thought of how sweet Chase’s screams would be, like the most beautiful concerto in the world, as Jesse slowly castrated him. He wouldn’t just stop with the penis he would cut off Chase’s balls as well. After that task was complete, he would stand back and admire his handy work like an artist,
chuckling at seeing Chase’s blood gush out of the hole where his penis had been like a geyser. He could hear Chase’s screams in his mind, his pleas, the look of fear on his eyes as he bled to death. He would beg Jesse to put him out of his misery. Beg his forgiveness for violating Angie but Jesse would not listen to his pleas. He would punish Chase for his sins. It would only be when Chase was on the brink of death, when The Grim Reaper was leaning in for that final kiss, that Jesse would slit his throat. He would flick his wrist quickly and try to get the blood to spatter as far as possible. He would stare Chase right in the eyes and watch, smiling, as his eyes rolled back in his head and milky white pools stared back at him. Jesse would keep the dagger as well as Chase’s penis and balls as keepsakes. Hell, maybe he would cut off Chase’s head and keep that as well. He could mount it on the wall above his bed. This image made Jesse giggle. Then he would go to Angie and comfort her in her time of need. He was sure she would be so upset that she would suffer a miscarriage or Jesse could see to it that she accidentally fell and lost the baby. She could accidentally fall as many times as it took.
Voices brought Jesse out of his thoughts. He looked around. The voices were getting louder. Jesse gulped and did the only thing he could think of; he hid inside a jeep. He jumped into the jeep and rolled himself into a tight ball on the floor, stifling his cry of pain as the jeep’s brake got shoved up his ass. He prayed to God that the voices didn’t stay long. Mercifully his prayers were answered. The voices were soon gone from the garage.
Stiffly he climbed out of the jeep rubbing his ass and silently cursing the voices though he had gotten a great idea on a way to humiliate Chase further. Looking into the dagger’s ruby eyes he smiled.
“You ever been used to fuck somebody?” he asked. Yes he would use the dagger to sodomize Chase. He would fuck Chase just like Chase had fucked him when he had stolen Angie away.
The dagger was clutched so tightly in his fist his knuckles had turned to the color of fresh milk. His sneakers padded off the dirty concrete. He watched Chase’s sneaker rise and fall rhythmically against the ground. His jeans had pulled up a little exposing his ankle. Jesse could slit the vein. One quick swipe ought to do it. The blood would gush from the torn vein like Niagara Falls.
Crouching low, he held the dagger close to the delicate vein. The tip was lightly caressing Chase’s skin. The blade glimmered in the light. Jesse could almost hear the dagger sigh as it held its breath in anticipation of what it was about to do. This was it. All Jesse had to do was cut. One quick cut and it would be over. Angie would be his.
Okay, he thought. On the count of three, Jess. One. Two. Three.
His hand didn’t move. Chase’s ankle was still in tact. His blood did not stain the concrete crimson.
Damn it, he chided himself. Okay. One. Two. Three.
Still nothing. Jesse stared at his hand in disbelief. It felt heavy, like it was made of stone. He couldn’t move it. Oh God, he had become paralyzed. Was he being punished for what he was about to do? No. That was stupid. Silly. He was doing the world a favor.
Okay. For real this time. One. Two. Two and a half. Two and three quarters. Two and seven eights. Two and twelve sixteenths. Two and fifty hundredths. Three.
His hand was still frozen.
Fuck! He shook his head disgusted.
What was wrong with him? This was what he wanted. This was the moment he had been waiting for since Angie had started going out with this piece of useless poor white trash. This was his chance to finally be with the most beautiful woman in the world. He was the one she was supposed to marry. Not Chase. It was his children that were supposed to grow inside her. Not Chase’s.
He could just hold his hand there and let Chase cut himself. The son-of-a-bitch was so stupid he probably wouldn’t even know he was killing himself until he was face to face with St. Peter. Jesse smiled and nodded. Yes, that was the greatest plan in the history of great plans. Jesse would let Chase off himself. His conscious would be clear. It wouldn’t be murder. It would be nothing more than a simple suicide.
Chase’s legs continued to bounce up and down. His ankle got closer and closer to the knife. His flesh was almost there. His life was about to end. Jesse’s tongue crept out of the corner of his mouth and licked his lips.
However, something happened that disturbed Jesse. His hand kept moving lower and lower putting the dagger just out of Chase’s reach.
What the Hell? Jesse thought. Why is my hand moving down? Why am I prolonging his life?
His head snapped sharply to the right when he heard more voices approaching. Jesse sprang off the ground like a sprinter too quickly and fell flat on his face. He crawled along the ground, staining his body and clothes and crawled underneath a Volkswagen Bug. He hugged his body into the fetus position and held his breath. The voices got louder and louder. A sharp intake of breath almost made him cough when two sets of heavy work boots stopped in front of his hiding place.
“Chase,” one of the voices said, “Let’s get some lunch buddy.”
Chase’s dirty sneakers joined the work boots.
“You’ve been working really hard today. You trying to kiss up for a promotion,” the other voice joked.
“Nah, I just need to get some extra money,” Chase answered. “Where we goin’ for lunch?”
“How about that new Mexican place? Yuri says the food’s great.”
“Sounds good,” Chase said. “Let me just wash up first, change my clothes.”
“Okay, we’ll meet you out front. Ten minutes or we’re leaving your hairy ass.”
Chase laughed and kicked his friend playfully in the shin. “I don’t have a hairy ass. And what are you doin’ lookin’ at it?”
“He’s looking because the last time he saw something that hairy it was when we were at the monkey house in the zoo,” the other one chimed in.
The three friends laughed. Jesse rolled his eyes.
Fags.
The work boots walked out to the parking lot. Chase’s sneakers disappeared into the locker room. Jesse waited a few seconds, making sure the coast was clear and followed Chase into the locker room. This was the perfect place to kill him. No one should bother them. He thanked God that the building used to be a swimming pool and the new owners had kept the showers for the mechanics to wash up.
Jesse slowly stalked through the locker room, clutching the dagger close to his chest. The gold handle was warm against his palm, he could feel its heartbeat quicken, its pulse race with wild excitement.
Turning a corner, Jesse saw Chase’s clothes strewn carelessly on a bench. He heard the pounding of the shower water against the tiles. Jesse looked toward the showers and saw thick blinding steam billowing all around. The sight made Jesse shiver slightly. The steam was heavy and suffocating. It was almost impossible for Jesse to breathe.
Slowly he walked into the showers. Blinking away the steam’s blindness he stayed close to the wall and moved at a snail’s pace. He wanted to take every possible precaution not to become visible to Chase. He didn’t want to give him any chance to get away, get help or overpower him. Chase was taller and a lot more muscular than Jesse. Jesse needed to take full advantage of the element of surprise to pull off this plan.
Jesse stopped when he was behind Chase. He looked his rival over. The shower’s hot water glistened off his muscular back. His back was inviting. Jesse wondered how sweet it would be to crush his spine and leave Chase a useless wheelchair bound cripple.
The boy took a few steps forward, but when Chase turned off the shower water he stopped as if he had just walked into a wall. He made himself become still as a statue and watched Chase walk out of the shower whistling, totally oblivious to the danger he was in.
The sight of Chase’s nude body filled Jesse with a jealous murderous rage that scared him and made him shake uncontrollably. He always knew Chase was more muscular than him but seeing him without clothes on made Jesse feel like a prepubescent child. Every inch of Chase’s body was toned. His stomach was
perfectly flat and didn’t betray any inch of flab. Even his ass was nicely muscled. The thing that really pissed Jesse off was when Chase turned and he saw his penis swinging proudly. Jesse had always been self-conscious about the size of his penis but seeing Chase’s …Well, let’s just say that Chase dwarfed Jesse considerably. It was almost as if Chase had a third leg growing out of him.
Jesse just stood there, staring at Chase like a fool, watching as he got dressed and walked out of the locker room. Jesse sighed and slid down the shower wall defeated. He had failed. He had missed his chance. Burying his face in his hands, he ran them through his hair. Madam Theodora was going to be very, very, pissed off.
Nine
Angie was in Jesse’s arms. The two of them had just finished making love. It was everything Jesse had dreamed it would be. It was passionate and beautiful. His chest puffed out with pride when Angie told him after that he was better than Chase.
“Chase may be bigger than you,” she said gently rubbing her hands over Jesse’s chest, “but he doesn’t know how to use it. I always had to fake it with him.”
Jesse merely shrugged his shoulders as if he heard this compliment all the time.
“I’m glad you decided to move in with me,” Jesse said kissing her forehead.
“I should have moved in with you when you first asked me. I never should have moved in with Chase. God, that was a mistake. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. You came to your senses. We can be together now. Forever,” he promised gently as he stroked her soft red tendrils.
“Jess, there’s one more thing I have to tell you.”
“What?” he asked.
Angie opened her mouth and a loud shrill beeping emitted from her throat. Jesse stared at her in shock. Her mouth was moving but instead of words that incessant, maddening beeping was the only thing that emitted from her.
Angie became blurry, resembling a painting that has been submerged under water. Soon he was shrouded in blackness. It felt like he was falling. His body rocked back and forth like the tilting deck of the Titanic.
In the Tarot Page 6