Page 4 of Beast Mode Todd

4

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I walkedout of prison a thirty-two year old man who’d lost way too much. That little investment dad had made had come through and I had more money now than I did when I went in, but I still didn’t like the trade off. I’d rather have died poor than go through what I had for all the riches in the world.

I hadn’t heard much from my cousin while I was away but I knew the business had taken off and was doing well according to my parents. I never had any reason to doubt him so I knew my money was there as well, and my name was on the papers as owner so I at least had that to come back to as far as work and something to keep me occupied.

My focus wasn’t on money though; it was on her and what I planned to do to her. The first thing I did once I got out was go see my folks and let them know I was okay, before lying to them about where I was gonna be for the next couple of months. I didn’t expect my little experiment in operation hell to take that long but I was giving myself breathing space.

I’d looked up the fiancé and found him to be an okay guy if rather nondescript. Not the kind of guy I’d imagined someone like her spending her life with. He was too clean cut, too, polished I guess is the word. She’d struck me more as the type to go for a jock, or at the very least someone more along the lines of the person I used to be. I mean why else had she come after me in the first place if he was hertype?

I’m guns and tats and this guy looked like the sight of a needle would send him into a tizzy. He was also about the homeliest motherfucker I’d ever seen. Something else about this whole situation that made no sense. But since I cared fuck all about her happiness, I didn’t waste too much time trying to uncover the story behind their peculiar match.

They were both college grads with decent jobs making more than an okay living; that shit pissed me off too. It’s as if while my life went way-fucking wrong on account of her, hers had been all roses. What the fuck ever happened to karma?

The fiancé was one of those soft types who looked like he hugged trees and shit so I wasn’t worried about any interference from him. As far as I could tell, he’d never been in a fight a day in his life. Never been in any kind of trouble that I could find. One of those goody two shoes types. Too bad I was about to fuck him up the ass with a shovel. Guilty by association.

There was no time that I felt even a little bit guilty about what I had planned for her. When I was done her life will be fucked in more ways than mine, but I didn’t care. Where my suffering had an end, I meant to ensure that hers neverdid.

I’d sacrificed for my country, had put my life on the line time and again to keep my countrymen safe. I wasn’t about to let her or anyone else get away with fucking me over after all that I had done. She has no idea what she’d unleashed, no idea what was just around the corner or to be exact, right next door. As the saying goes, revenge is a dish best servedcold.

After I left my parents the morning after I got out, I headed two towns over to the house I’d found for rent in her neighborhood. It was as if providence was on my side. Either that or the fact that I got the family that was living there the fuck out so I could movein.

It wasn’t easy but I pulled enough strings to get that shit done. I needed the proximity for my plan to work and nothing was going to stop me. I started working on my plan to get them out the minute she moved in next door. It was a guy and his girl who were renting out the place on a month, to month basis.

I waited three months before my release and put in a bid for the place, offering to pay more and a half a year in advance. Who doesn’t like money? The owner gave them notice and they moved out the month before Icame.

That sounds like a dick move but I was all outta fucks to give. Nothing like a rabid ass marine with a chip on his shoulder. People ought to learn to leave people alone. You never know what the fuck’s living behind the other guy’seyes.

Before this shit I wasn’t the type. I was more into saving lives than taking them, though I did plenty of that in the marines. I’d even go so far as to say I was a decent human being. Her little stunt had cost me and cost me big. If not for my captain going to bat I could’ve lost my medals, my pension; every fuck that I’d worked hard for. I dare anyone to tell me I should leave this shit alone. Fuckthat!

I moved in, in the dead of night under cover of dark and set up shop. This place wasn’t meant to be home so I brought just the bare essentials as far as clothing and food. The place was furnished so I had a bed to sleep in at night. The only thing of real interest to me is my new laptop and the surveillance equipment I was going to need to get the job of her total destructiondone.

I had a roadmap in my head of what I was going to do, still not sure how long I planned to drag this shit out for. But I was prepared for the long haul. The only certainties I had was what I was going to do, and the end result, which was putting an end to her cushy littlelife.

Then I’ll step over her carcass and move the fuck on with mine. She’s lucky I’d given up thoughts of putting one in her head. But even as pissed as I am, I couldn’t bring myself to take her life, my conscience wouldn’t let me go that far. That, or the fact that plan B sounded more promising and would have longer lasting effects.

For three days I’ve been holed up here putting the finishing touches on my master plan, making sure I had all my bases covered. Every once in a while I’d be tempted to rush shit but then I’d remind myself of the ass-fuck I’d be in for if I messed things up, and then I’d calm down again.

I’ve been patient this long, but now that I was this close I was in an all fired hurry to get shit moving. Before I had no choice but to wait, now that I was no longer chained up like a dog, now that my time was my own and I had freedom of movement, there wasn’t really much to stop me walking a few feet down and breaking her fuckingneck.

By the end of the third day I’d had everything I needed in place and all that was left was the grand reveal. I’ve imagined this shit a million times, that first look on her face. What will it be? Will she be surprised, horrified, will she even recognizeme?

Before that summer five years ago I don’t think we’d ever laid eyes on each other, and the few times we did meet had been rushed and mostly in the evenings in somebody’s backyard under questionable lighting. I almost wish she wouldn’t recognize me, but somehow I think she would.

* * *

I turned backto the room once I lost sight of her, flexing my fists as I stalked around the house. I’d been here three days and had already grown tired of the wait. I’d used that time to learn their schedules and the ins and outs of the little house she shared with her soon to be husband.

My parents had tried talking me into staying close to home or at least letting them tag along somewhere, because although I hadn’t shared my plans, they knew me well enough to know that I never let shit go and I know how the fuck to hold a good grudge.

Mom and dad both had drilled it into my head that I needed to let it go and go on with my life. I guess I shouldn’t have threatened to end her the first few times they’d visited me in the pen. It had been years since I’d done that, since I’d even mentioned her to them, so I was hoping they’d forgotten all about it. The look dad gave me just before I left said they hadn’t.

It was good that she’d moved a few towns over so no one would blow my cover before I was ready, but that didn’t matter anyway since I only left the house to go next door to theirs when I was sure no one was home. I didn’t let myself think too much about the fiancé. I don’t care if he was the beatified saint of the last pope his ass was gonna get burned, casualty ofwar.

He wasn’t even real to me at this point. As long as he stayed the fuck out of my way I’ll let him live. He fucks with me, all bets are off. This is between me, and the little Lolita. What he chose to do with the pieces I leave will be up to him, but I’m betting on him wanting out. From what I’d seen so far he didn’t strike me as the type to forgive and forget.

I’d decided that today was the day to make my move. Everything was in place and there was no more need to wait. The sooner I got this shit started the sooner it would all end. I got a sweet little tingle at the thought as I took another sip of the alcohol that burned a path down my gut. I gave one last passing thought to the boyfriend since he was the only one I could see causing any hiccups, but I was ready for that contingency aswell.

He won’t be home for another few hours and they rarely had guests except for her parents or his on the odd weekend. I knew all this from tracking her moves while I was still on the inside. Like I said, these people put all their business out there for any asshole to see. I saw plenty and kept track in my handy little scrapbook, which I’d emailed to myself.

I went to my computer and fired it up so I could keep eyes on her. She dropped her purse on a chair and made her way to the bathroom, shedding her clothes as shewent.

I didn’t watch her shower but waited instead for her to get dressed and make her way back to the kitchen to get dinner started. It was the same routine every day and I was hard pressed to reconcile this shell of a woman with the vibrant young girl who’d first approached me in that backyard that long agoday.

She had no spunk as far as I could see, almost as if she were going through the motions. But nothing I’d seen from her million and one posts gave me any insight into this new person she’d become. It’s almost as if she’d locked herself off or some shit and I was thinking maybe there was something, other than the fact that she’d ruined me, that she hadn’t shared with the fuckingweb.

I knew from eavesdropping on their lives that the relationship she was in was lukewarm at best. In every picture her eyes were dull and the smile never really formed on her lips. Instead of the cute little summer dresses I remember, she was now into something approaching a habit that covered her from head to toe. I think they call it a caftan, fuck Iknow.

It wasn’t only her choice of clothing that had changed; it was as if the light had gone out of her. I could almost convince myself that she was punishing herself for what she’d done to my life by sabotaging her own, but I didn’t give a fuck about that shit either. Her self-flagellation meant fuck all to me. She couldn’t have been suffering all that much since she’d breezed through college, found herself a man, and was set to get married in less than a year. All in all she’d had it much better than Idid.

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