Delano sat at attention. He was sitting up, straight and tall, right on the very edge of his bed. He held a target loaded .45 and waited for his cheating wife to come home. The five shot ball loaded clip-fed gun felt both heavy and comfortable in his sweaty hand.
She’s going to like this one, he thought. The dog-fucking coke-whore is going to get a real kick out of it.
The camos Del wore as the Ordinance Safety Officer at the pistol range were rolled up to his elbows. He stared at the forever tattoo on the underside of his forearm. He had it inked for his and Lucita’s fifth wedding anniversary. It used to be Del’s favorite one. It had beautiful lines and vibrant colors. The tattoo seemed trite and ridiculous now.
The cleaning kit sat open on the deck between his boots. The gun oil and brushes dropped as he’d used them. There’s no more need to be his usual meticulous and methodical self. As a career Navy man, Del took a big chance sneaking the M-1911A1 off base. He knew he’d be in deep shit if he ever got caught with the range pistol. It was not like him at all. Del chose the straight and narrow path. He was everything that his father, the Sergeant, was not. He did not drug and he did not drink to excess. He has never raped or tortured anyone. Del’s father could not say the same. His old man had been involved in both the My Lai and Co Luy fiascos. He served, apparently with a certain cold, cruel Distinction, under the now infamous Lieutenant Rusty. And although the Sgt. never had to serve any prison time for the murders they committed, the Sgt. also showed nary a hint of remorse for his actions. He even visited the Lt. in the brig a few times over the years. The disgraced officer was still probably in jail somewhere. Or maybe he’s dead, Del didn’t know. Since the Sgt. died himself a number of years ago, a burnt out, drugged out, shell of the former man he was, Del didn’t care to keep track.
That’s part of why his wife’s indiscretions hurt him so much. Del has tried his whole life to do the right, the honorable thing. He wanted to re-establish the family line of distinguished career Navy men. Del wanted to be like his grandfather and his grandfather’s father before him. He wanted to follow the rules and be the good-guy. Del joined the Navy and happily did everything right and above board. He wanted to be the polar opposite of his father the baby killer. Del wanted to be the man who returned honor and respect back to the family name.
So, after all he’s been through, after repeatedly bending over backwards for that bitch-twat of a junkie-ass wife of his, being sent those horrible pictures sent Del off the bow and into the deep drink. A bullet seems now to be the only answer.
He looked to the target pistol again, still not believing that he was actually holding the illegal firearm.
It wasn’t supposed to ever leave the pistol range, but Del needed it.
He was waiting for her to come home, so he could harm her in the surest way he knew how.
Del had never done anything even remotely like this before. Breaking the rules wasn’t in his character. But neither was looking the other way while Luci fucked that piece of shit. Not for the cocaine he gave her. Hell, not for any reason. It wasn’t just her injudiciousness that got on Del’s tits. It was him. Sancho was a fucking derelict for Christ’s sake. Beautiful Luci was cheating on Del with a could-not-hack-it, fucking washout. The guy was a huge flake. One who got booted out of the Navy, but stuck around the periphery. He preyed on weaknesses like Luci’s love for cocaine.
Del had hidden their assets from her a long time ago, so she couldn’t bankrupt them again. This wasn’t her first rodeo. He had sent her to rehab again. Then he requested an emergency transfer to shore duty. The Navy takes care of its own. They sent Del from West Pac to the east coast. Far enough away, Del had thought. And she had been good, for a while, a handful of years, in fact. Then that monkey-fuck Sancho found her.
Del wondered how that happened. He was curious as to just exactly how they met, the circumstances. He thought she was being good and behaving herself. But he wasn’t going to ask her. He didn’t want to hear her lie again. No matter, Del knew how it would go. Just like the other times in the past. One line would lead to twelve and soon she would be sucking on a crack pipe, like she was sucking on the derelict’s dick.
He knew that last part was already happening. He wished he didn’t know about the affair. Sancho made sure Del knew. Sancho hated the Navy that kicked him out and all who thrived in it like Del, so you can bet he made sure Del knew all about it:
“Ouch, baby, it hurts…”
“Do you want me to stop?”
“No, Daddy. Please, no…”
Then the rat-fucking bastard actually turns to the lens and winks. The only thing missing was the sordid, off-camera details.
This washout wanted to humiliate Del. There was no other reason to send him those nasty pictures. Luci did not even look like she knew was being filmed. And Sancho took care to insure Del knew the cock she was bouncing on was his. Del knew who Sancho was, alright. There was no way he’d be able to forget. Del was hoping Sancho had been put away for good, but guess not. It looked to Del like he’s back in black.
Well, that’s just terrific, Tom! And judging from that exclusive film clip, Del’s wife appears to be on a body temperature liquid diet, as well. She sure does seem to enjoy it, Tom! Fantastic!
It was too much for Del to handle. He couldn’t –strike that- Del wouldn’t go through that shit with her again.
God damn them. God damn them both.
Del heard Luci’s key engage the lock on the front door. He should still be at the Naval Station, but he kind of ran the little show there at the pistol range. Del could cut out early, the .45 notwithstanding, without any real issue. He just never did. Today, however, was a special occasion.
“Hey, honey,” Del heard himself say. Of course she was startled a little. At least she was by herself. That was something, anyway. Del wanted this to be a private affair. Affair, Del chortled. What a word. It sounded so painless.
“You home, Del?” Luci called out, stating the obvious and shutting the door.
Del laughed low and smiled cruelly, shaking his head. “Yeah, I’m home,” he said.
And ain’t you the fucking genius.
Del heard Luci making her way back to the bedroom. He put the .45 between his legs and waited like that for her.
Del looked at the overhead, staring at the tiny cracks and imperfections he’d never noticed before. Just like the first handful of times Luci’s pulled this shit. He was done overlooking all the flaws and blemishes in their travesty of a marriage. He was sick of this shit, tired of letting it go. Del would make double-damned sure she would pay for this one. Dearly. When Del was done with her, she’d never do it again.
I should put a double-tap on her forehead. Two quick pops, right between her beautiful blue eyes.