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My contribution on this day of Love Gone Bad is a flash fiction story I call...
by Debbie Christiana
He rested one hand on Lucy’s shoulder, heavy and warm. His other hand guided the zipper of her dress down her spine, exposing her bare back. He whispered in her ear and nibbled at her neck. Lucy tensed. Where butterflies used to flutter at his kisses, revulsion now resided. She stepped away from him, her husband, a man she thought she knew.
The phone call changed everything.
The headlines of the past two years flashed before her eyes. Ten murders. Ten mangled bodies. There wasn’t a preferred target. Men, women, young and old, all shared a level playing field.
His arms snaked around her waist. “Baby, what’s wrong?”
“How could you do such a horrible thing?” Her hand slid toward a knife on the cutting board.
She spun around, knife slashing. Blood sprayed from his sliced face. His mouth dropped open and his eyes widened. He made no sound. Without remorse, Lucy drove the knife into his heart.
He staggered backwards, blood seeping through his J. Crew shirt. His back hit the refrigerator and he collapsed to the floor.
Always incapacitate the victim with the element of surprise. It never failed.
“Why?” He whispered.
“Because you turned me in.”
“No, he didn’t.” The cold nose of a gun pressed into the base of her neck. “I did.”
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