Cheater [Watty Awards 2011]

Prologue [Closer]

*Who likes the title? Please, do let me know because I'm a little 50/50 with it, at the moment. Thanks for all your support! I really hope you enjoy the long-awaited prologue for the sequel of Cheater. :)*

*PS: "They" is one person. It's written "they" because I don't want to let you know whether it's a boy or a girl, yet. So basically, the person who dropped the rucksack/the person carrying the baby could either be ... or ... 

Prologue

               

“Come on, honey...” She sweet-talks, stepping towards him, “Open the door.”

With a grunt, he flings her back only using his forearm. He just touches on how dangerous, how aggressive, how violent a man of his gargantuan build can get, “Don’t tell me what to do.”

“Joe.”  She tries, her lips trembling slightly.

“Gwen.” He addresses, never of a pitying nature.

Everything is silent in the Hunter household and for a moment, all you can hear is the sound of breathing.

“Why?” He points with his eyes, lifting his chin up at the bed, “Why would you do that?”

Gwen’s clothes spill out of the duffel bag atop their dark red duvet. Her shoes lay strewn across the room; they’d been dragged carelessly out of wardrobes and thrown ‘near’, if not ‘onto’ the bed.  

“I have my reasons.”

“Of course,” He scoffs, “And what are they?”

“There’s...”

“If you say ‘another man’, I will break him.”

“I can’t... It’s-it’s-” She starts, as her voice begins to break, but Joe will not let her finish.

“Tell me. Don’t just go.” Joe pleads, at last, showing some much needed sentiment towards his wife.

“I’ve done some,” She looks away, reluctant to go on, “Some awful, awful things, Joey. You shouldn’t...I-I don’t want you to know.”

“Why not? It’s not like you hurt anybody...”

“But I did, J. It was only because he hurt me first.”

Silence.

“What did...” He stops, suddenly nervous, “What did you do?”

“I killed him.” She concludes, straight faced. It isn’t the sentence that frightens him, nor the idea itself – my wife, a murderer? It is the way that she delivers it. It is the coldness, and the cruelness of it that makes him slam his back against the door and stare at her in shock horror.

               

Silence comes and stays for what appears forever.

               

“Except I didn’t. He... came back... somehow.” She says slowly, as though she were saying to herself, as though she doesn’t believe the words.

                “W-what do you mean?” His eyes near abandon his skull, as his mind conjures up images of ghosts and ghouls. It is obvious to Gwen that he favours brawn over brain.

                “I don’t want to tell you...”

                “Go on.”

                “He took something very important to me.” Joe smiles, sighing with relief. Of course, ‘killed’ didn’t really mean ‘killed’, he tells himself, calming down.

                “Huh? Was it diamonds? A car?” Joe laughs it off, shaking his head, “Baby, I can buy you all that and more.”

                “He took my son.”

                “Sorry?” He tries his best to remain cool, acting as if he’d never heard her when he had. Inside, heat surrounds and dominates his heart, almost pounding its way out of his chest.   

                “Our son...” She clarifies.

                “But...” He starts, trying desperately hard to comprehend that his wife, the woman he adores, the woman he trusts, the woman he’d chosen to spend eternity with, was somebody he didn’t know at all, “But why?”

                “I thought he was dead...” Gwen says, dazed.

                “Don’t worry. I’m here for you, I promise.” He smiles, wrapping two python-like arms around her, “I’m choosing to accept th-”

                Cold, she slides away from him, “You should choose to back the fuck off of me.”

                “G!”

                “I need my son.”

                “I can help you! I’ll do it!” He pleads.

                “Really?” Her face lights up, her whole mood and posture changes so quickly that it’s almost disturbing to watch, “You’d do that for me?”

                “I’m with you.”

               

                “Oh...” She coos, as he bends his head the way a tamed giraffe would, “There’s just one problem.”

                “What is it?”

He looks up at her, while she continues to massage his bald head and smooth neck.

                “It’s a game, Joe.” He notices her grip tightening on his neck, but thinks nothing, says nothing, does nothing.

                Too late, “I like games.”

               

                Gwen twists all the way to the side, listening to every bone crack as she goes.

                “Not this one. It’s one player.”

               

----

                Meanwhile, somewhere a lot closer to Gwen than she imagines, a dangerous person from her past mutters angrily,

“...Christ’s sake,” as they bend down to pick up their dirty rucksack from a shallow puddle. They sigh at the dampness, and then add sarcastically, “Exactly what I need.”

Frustrated, they ravage the insides to make sure that nothing’s harmed; the passports look fine, the papers look okay and the wallet seems alright.

“Hurry up!” They turn around, commanding another person forward. The partner starts to jog, supporting a baby in a dark blue carrier strapped to their front.

“It’s not easy.”

“You don’t like the game?” They scoff, flinging the rucksack back onto their shoulder, “Don’t play.”

“It’s not a game.” The baby gurgles in its carrier, exploring two, new tiny hands.

“No, you’re right.” Two lips smirk, “Because I’ve already won.”