The engine of the car James was in roared with each press of the gas pedal. It gave him a much needed boost to the adrenaline that was fading fast. He’d never bought what they did in the movies, chugging vodka to kill the pain of the gunshots that the character was feeling, but he knew, now, why they did: it worked. The several holes in his body oozing precious red were now only a numb thought. The road ahead was endless and he didn’t mind. While his engine was moaning and groaning the three behind him were doing worse trying to keep up with him. James was going numb, the only thing he felt was the ring on a thin gold chain that occasionally bumped against his chest when he went over a bump. In fact. The only reason he’d wipe the blood from his brow is because it would temporarily turn his vision red. He smiled. The last smile he’d ever put on and spoke his final words, “For you, Julie. When they’re dead. I’ll cheer.” He jerked the wheel to the left and grabbed his pistol, throwing the car into park, and flinging the door open as the other three cars screeched to a hault. His barrel found them. And their barrels found him.
Five and a half months ago Julie and James were all but strangers. He was single, she was married, and a chance meeting turned into a water cooler romance. Their relationship flew fast and bloomed quickly. Going almost immediately from casual lunches at the dinette down the street to renting a hotel room for an hour or two. Her husband never suspected a thing until one day she forgot her phone at home. Usually she locked it, but he was a clever man. There wasn’t a lot there, but enough to make him suspicious. At the dinette James and Julie sat at their usual spot, away from the window, and had lunch. Her husband nearly let the whole thing go until he watched the man and his wife share a deep and passionate kiss. Money was no object and he would make sure that they would both pay. She would suffer. He would watch.
James did watch. As four men beat and raped Julie. He screamed her name as her husband did the same. He lost his voice from all the screaming he was doing. She almost never said a word during the whole thing, only whimpering James’ name every now and again. The eye that wasn’t swollen shut from the beating still shone emerald green as she pleaded silently to him. One moment her lips are quivering, her eye shimmering, then they were still and glazed over. The shell fell right in front of her face, ejected from the pistol in her husband’s hand. Then the silenced pistol turned to James and again a bullet flew. James grunted with the impact as the nine millimeter bullet tore through his body and shattered the handcuffs holding him captive. James took the opportunity and escaped, letting fury fuel his violence, he bashed in the head of one of the men and injured the other three, including Julie’s husband. He snatched a set of keys off the floor, slipped Julie’s ring off her finger and onto the chain around his neck. He kissed her once more and another bullet tore through him.
The car he stole was a newer model luxury sedan and in the front passenger seat was a cache of pistols and a bottle or two of alcohol. James could only imagine what for. He had chugged half the bottle of vodka that he’d found, driven the car as fast and as far as he could. Cuts and bruises and probably broken bones all were just a numb memory. Now he faced the bastards that hurt Julie and him. The pistol in his hand jumped over and over, the air filling with the concussion like reports of the many guns now being fired. Soon it was silent. Julie’s husband lay near one of the cars, his brains on the floor next to him. The other men were gone, as well. James leaned against the car he stole, panting and gasping his last ragged breaths, cold creeping deeper and deeper into him. There were a few more bullet holes, now, and he had precious little time. With a shaking hand he picked up Julie’s ring, held it to his lips for a kiss, and gave no one a blood stained smile, “Hip...Hip...Hoor…..” He slumped to the ground, silent.
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