Past
Monday, March 23, 2013
7:49 p.m.
Corrine sat soundlessly next to her husband as he and his illegitimate boss discussed their business in the once private living room of their home. What used to belong to the two of them now belonged to the menacing bunch that made themselves comfortable in their home. Her stomach filled with disgust at Richard's association with a man the likes of Bleu, but she wouldn't dare voice that opinion right at that moment.
Bleu wasn't the type that took well to insult and definitely wasn't someone to make an enemy of. Covertly, he ran the city of Baltimore by having a hand in just about every corner of society: businesses, politics, and even the authorities. He was singlehandedly the cause of the city's corruption.
On the surface, Corrine was expressionless; underneath the mask was a rumbling mixture of fear, worry, and uncertainty. Richard was playing with fire and if he made one false move, the both of them were going to burn. She hadn't realized that all of her over analyzing began to display itself on her flawless coffee colored face. Her eyebrows furrowed together, as she bridled.
"Is there something wrong, Mrs. Morrison?" She aimed her attention back at Bleu to find his hardened bluish gray eyes scrutinizing her every move. Under his gaze, she felt bare and incapable of hiding. He had been well aware of her discomfort and revelled in it. Hell, he was the infamous Bleu, who was going to stop him from doing what he wanted? It certainly wouldn't be the man sitting next to her.
"No, I'm sorry. Please continue. " She stammered as her eyes looked everywhere but at him. In an attempt to protect herself, Corrine wrapped her arms around her body. Bleu smirked, rubbing stubble on his chin noticing the influence he had over her. He ran his tongue across his lips. Corrine nervously turned to her husband, hoping he'd catch on and intervene. Richard glared at her through his peripheral.
"Let's just get back to business now, Bleu." He grunted, annoyance evident in his hunched shoulders and tightly clasped hands.
"As you wish," he chuckled, as did the two brutes positioned on both sides of the leather, beige chair he'd claimed as his throne. "Tonight will be the meeting that we've been planning for. Paul will meet us in one of the city warehouses to make the trade. I want you to be one of the men to accompany me. You'll do your job to clear out anything that could be incriminating. Of course you'll get a hefty compensation."
Richard nodded his head. "How much are we talking?"
"For you, Detective Morrison, five grand. It's all yours after you've done your part, just like with any job." Bleu spoke with the gab of a polished business man.
Richard smiled, rising to his feet, as did Bleu, and the two shook hands. "I will be waiting, Mr. Detective. I can let myself out." The two henchmen followed behind him.
Once he heard the door shut, Richard faced his wife with his emerald eyes blazing. "He's playing me," he spat. "That's not even a quarter of the money he'll be paying to his other foot soldiers. This is a weapons transaction, not coke, I should be getting at least double of what he's trying to give me!" Richard quickly whipped out his cellphone and angrily dialed a number. Corrine watched quietly in the background as her husband made the worst decision of his life.
"O'Riley, I just came across on a lead on Bleu," he said with his cell phone glued between his shoulder and his ear as he pulled back the curtain to peak out the window "Don't worry about how I got it, just listen and follow my instructions." Richard rattled off the warehouse directions to his partner, Detective Connor O'Riley.
"Richard," Corrine finally spoke up after the call was ended. "What the hell did you just do?" She went to stand directly in front of him.
"Nothing that isn't completely warranted." Richard stated with finality. "By the time he even realizes that I'm the one who set him up, he'll be long gone and the least of our problems."
"You do remember who he is don't you? He owns the fucking city, you know that better than anyone. What makes you think that even if he is arrested, that he'll be locked away permanently? For all we know, this could be a set up of his own. This shit is exactly why you should have never involved us with him. Oh my God Richard, just fucking think for once in your life." Corrine anxiously began pacing.
Richard ran a frustrated hand through his walnut brown hair. "Corrine...I know what I'm doing. When have I ever steered us wrong? Just trust me?"
Corrine locked eyes with him. "If this falls through, you've just fucked the both of us."
****
Richard stared at the back of his wife's head as she cooked breakfast- for herself. She hadn't so much as breathed in his direction since their quarrel and by her current behavior, he could tell that would be her mood for the rest of the day.
"See you when I get off." He leaned down to kiss her cheek, but she sucked her teeth and walked away. Richard had no choice other than to accept her attitude. He simply shook his head before heading off to work.
"How did it go last night, O'Riley?" Richard asked as he entered the precinct.
Connor gave him a grim look. "The tip you gave us was a dead end. When we got there, the place was empty."
"So you mean to tell me that it was a bust? No one was there?" Connor nodded ashamed. Richard groaned aloud.
"There's just no way of finding him. These people are willing to face jail time than to speak on him." Richard ranted. To his partner, he merely sounded like every other cop intent on bringing down the bad guy. In reality, he was concerned for his own safety. He'd screwed up majorly and knew it the moment Connor told him they failed.
At that moment, he regretted not listening to Corrine because now the both of their lives were in jeopardy. There was no turning back. His best option was to come up with another plan. Richard sank into his seat as he sat in his cubicle, pondering over his next possible moves. In the back of his mind, he was hopeful that whatever tip was given to Bleu, kept him from being a suspect. His brainstorming was halted when he felt a familiar pair of soft feminine hands cover his eyes. "Guess who?" Her silky smooth voice asked playfully.
No doubt about it, he knew who it was just from inhaling her scent. She always smelled of sweet vanilla. He pried her hands off of his eyes and pulled her in front of him. "I thought I told you, no affection in public eye." Though he did enjoy seeing Kyle, he didn't want to risk any word of his extramarital affairs somehow getting back to his wife not after everything else they'd gone through because of him.
Kyle Lockhart was the epitome of beautiful. She was taller than most women, but still short enough not to intimidate a man. She wasn't the typical blonde-haired, blue-eyed archetype. Instead, she was a fiery redhead with naturally wavy locks. Instead of blue eyes, hers were an intense hazel.
"No one cares, Morrison. Everyone here respects you so much that you can get away with anything and no one would even bat an eye." She waved off his usual lecture of being more discrete. He would always do that until she took him back to their normal spot. "Feeling up to it today?" She asked seductively. Hesitantly, he shook his head.
Any other day, Richard would've been up to it, but not today. Today he had bigger problems to stress over- like saving his life. If he didn't figure out what he would do next, this would possibly be their last meeting. "On second thought, I think I'll take you up on that in a few." He winked.
Kyle smirked, knowing that he could never tell her no and mean it. "I'll be waiting." She turned on her heels, only to be met with Corrine- who'd been watching the entire interaction between the two. Kyle smiled slyly and kept walking.
"We'll meet up later, Morrison."
Not one to cause a scene, Corrine faked a smile to mask the hurt that bubbled in her chest. She'd only come to bring him lunch and apologize for being stubborn earlier. Seeing another one of his whores was not what she'd been expecting.
She lifted up the plastic bag containing his favorite Italian food. "I just came to bring you lunch." Her smile was convincing to everyone except Richard. She placed the bag down and hurriedly turned to leave. He thought about going after her, but figured that it would only cause a scene. Colleagues seeing faults in his personal life wasn't an objective of his. Instead, he stayed put and played his part of being the grateful husband of a good woman.
As Corrine tried to keep up the facade of the loving wife, a stray tear fell. Quickly, in order to save herself anymore humiliation, she wiped it away before strutting confidently out of the door. Connor watched her backside as she left. He'd paid enough attention to Corrine long enough to recognize how her body expressed some of her emotions. These people could be fooled by her, she was quite the actress, but he knew that this was the moment he'd been waiting on since he'd fallen for her.
Corrine was finally fed up.
Her breaking point with Richard had been reached and she couldn't take anymore of his wandering eye and disloyal penis. Enough is enough.
****
Richard had procrastinated coming home. He knew that once he saw Corrine again he'd feel guilty. Guilty that she'd found out about his continued affair with Kyle and even more so that he'd still gone through with the act.
He entered their home, only to find that she wasn't there. He sat on their large, king-sized bed completely exasperated. Now he'd just added one more problem to the growing list. Overwhelmed with exhaustion, he found himself dozing off.
Richard was awakened by a powerful strike to the head. "Wake up!" He tumbled onto the plush, white carpet of the bedroom floor. He cracked open his eyes still discombobulated. When his brain finally adjusted to his surroundings, the realization settled in: this was it. His last moments were going to be spent with him being robbed of his dignity. The career he'd built, the name he'd made for himself, his image. None of that mattered. The one thing that did matter was Corrine. Richard would leave this world knowing that he didn't deserve her and she damn sure didn't deserve the fate he'd sealed for her by crossing the uncrossable.
He was surrounded by three of Bleu's henchmen, each equally terrifying. Their faces were covered by black or dark green ski masks; their bodies were covered by oversized clothing so that there was no way of identifying them by body shape or size. Two of the taller men hoisted Richard up by his arms. The smaller, yet still larger than Richard himself, aimed his Glock18 at the spot between his eyes. "A message from Bleu."