4
Shut Up
Justin Blake
Where is it?
I can feel the panicked, cold sweat rolling down my temples. I search the basement again. Forcing myself to go slow doesn’t help worth a damn.
Annette texts me, but I don’t have any patience for that whore right now. She thinks because Amanda left I have a vacancy in my life as if I would marry her instead.
Amanda was more useful than she will ever be. She kept the house clean, was a good cook, and never asked questions. Total subservience—perfect.
Until now.
Where the fuck is it?
If that box of pictures gets out, I’m screwed in more ways than one. My face isn’t in any of them, so I won’t be identifiable. The women, though. People are looking for some of them. The hideaway is in the background of every damn photo too. One step into those rooms and it will be clear that the women are there.
Fuck!
What do I do? I can’t confess to missing photos I shouldn’t have. I couldn’t resist having the pictures taken. My trophies. All gone.
I yell in frustration and start taking it out on the random boxes of shit down here. Why hasn’t Amanda cleaned this pigsty?
Because she lost her mind and left, that’s why.
Another fuck up.
They’re starting to pile up, and I can’t counteract the tide.
Once I’m finished venting, I catch my breath and make a decision. I can only call one person about this. Someone that would be just as invested in finding the damn photos as I am. She’s in some of them, after all.
The phone rings twice before she picks up.
“Hello, Justin,” Gloria says in a quiet purr.
The bitch might be old as the hills, but she fucks like a dream.
“Problem,” I return in a no-nonsense tone.
“Oh?” She taunts me in one word, making my teeth grind. This uppity bitch needs to be taken down two notches. But I need her right now.
“The photos are missing.”
The silence that follows is filled with tension.
“That’s not good,” she says in a mild but strained tone.
“No shit,” I deadpan back.
“You had them in a lockbox?”
I wince and look around the dank basement.
“My basement.”
“In a sealed box, right?” Her tone turns angry in a blink.
“Would I be calling you if they were?” I snap back.
“You utter moron .”
I want to bite back, but I restrain myself. She can insult me as much as she likes. Once I have those photos back, I can force her to bend over backward for me. Hers were for blackmail material anyway. And she’s the moron for letting me take them.
“Have you asked your precious wife about it?” I can hear her sneer of disgust. Subservient women are her worst enemies. She’s hated Amanda from the beginning.
The question makes me sigh. Confession number two.
“Hard to do since she left.”
“ What? ” Her shriek makes me wince at the volume.
“Shut the fuck up, Gloria,” I break with anger. “She found a text from Annette and lost her shit. She’ll be back.”
“Not if she has those photos, she won’t. She called me days ago asking for advice on divorce, you idiot. For a friend .”
“I have her hemmed in already. She will be back,” I assure her grimly. Without a penny, she’s going to be living rough no matter what. She won’t be able to walk away from my money no matter what moral high ground she thinks she’s standing on.
“Those photos will be a leg up on proceedings at the very least,” she assures me grimly. “And I’m in some of them. You fucking idiot!”
It’s a bit late to figure that out.
“But I’m not in a single one, Gloria. Inadmissible. Even I know that.”
She lets out a sound of petulant rage. It must suck to realize how stupid you are despite the fancy plaque claiming the bitch to be educated.
“It isn’t a problem. She will be back.”
“Annette-”
“Is keeping her mouth shut about Amanda leaving. No one has any idea.”
“They’ll find out if you don’t get a handle on her.”
“I know where she is,” I scoff. “Some piece of shit apartments on the outskirts of the new business section Andrea Matthias built to help the community .”
“You have to admit it’s a good cover. They can pull their own dirty weight and claim to be pure.”
“Why haven’t we gotten them involved yet?” I ask curiously. Andrea is fucking hot, and she has three fucktoys. She’d fit in perfectly. I’d fit into her perfectly.
“We can’t get enough concrete information to make that plausible,” she shuts down my fantasy quickly. “She’s too unpredictable.”
I scoff at that bullshit. “She’s buying up the entire town. We’re the only holdouts.”
“We aren’t,” she claims in exasperation. “Get your head out of your ass. Big moves have bigger consequences. Get Amanda home. You have better instincts with her around.”
“Give it time. She’ll be back and under my thumb soon enough,” I dismiss her just as quickly as she dismissed me. Let her stew in that for a while. She doesn’t pull my strings.
“You better spread the word with your little lawyer buddies,” she hisses in return.
“That would be outing the fact that she left.” I can’t help the anger that thought brings. She has always been under my strict control. I don’t want any of my friends to realize how tenuous that hold is. I’m disgusted at it myself.
“Yes, it would,” her smug, self-righteous tone grates on my last nerve. “Your fuckups are not my problem. The more you pin her down and leave her without options, the better. The pathetic bitch is going to go for a divorce.”
“She doesn’t have the money to start proceedings. Her parents are the only place she could go.”
“Then you can claim abandonment and nail her ass to the wall.”
“More public bullshit,” I point out angrily.
“Spread the word and have everyone shut her out. Find a way to keep an eye on her. Someone that can get into whatever shithole she’s living in to find those photos. Do it now. Maybe try luring her back in, you lazy shit.”
I grunt and run a hand through my hair. If I had known Amanda would go apeshit over an affair, I wouldn’t have bothered with her. How could she think I’d be happy with her pathetic ass in bed?
“Fine,” I agree, just to get her off the phone.
I hang up and look around at the mess.
Gloria doesn’t know Amanda. She’s broke. She’ll get desperate. All I have to do is wait her out. Until she contacts me with whatever pathetic threats and ultimatums she’s going to have, I’m ignoring her.
A chime goes off, making me groan in frustration. Amanda has her own text tone, so I know how to act when I answer. I have to brace myself to put up with her clingy bullshit. I’ve been enjoying the freedom from her presence and I’ll continue that until it’s time to play the loving husband again.
Amanda: I want a divorce.
It’s been the same thing every day. Like she thinks if she demands it I’ll give it to her. She can dream on. As long as she has my last name, I have everything under control.
“Stupid cunt,” I mutter and delete the message.
She’ll break. I know it. I know her . There’s no way she can last out there alone. She lived with her parents before I took her away from that stupidity. I trained her to be the perfect wife once their influence was out of sight. She’s never been alone before, and she’s too weak to put up much of a fight.
If she finds a man to remodel her, she might stand a chance. Lucky for me, she’s ugly as fuck and fat to top it off. She doesn’t care how pathetic she looks. No makeup. No upkeep. I had to show her how to dress for fuck’s sake. No one with a brain is going to touch that with a ten-foot pole.
“Hold your fucking breath, Mandy.”
I text Annette back. I’m in the mood for a rage fuck.