Chapter 5-2
821 Words
Afterwards, Noah fell asleep fairly quickly. I sat up in bed once I heard him snore. Usually I had no problems sleeping after s*x. But I couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t because of Noah’s snoring either. His snoring was actually comforting. Instead, I thought of the events involving the shooting.
I repeated the images in my mind: the gunshots, the blood, and the car I heard speeding away. I should have turned to look at the car. Why did it happen? I remembered moving my chair back shortly before the gunshots. Was I the target?
I tried to think of where the shooter could have been and pulled my iPad from the nightstand. I pulled up maps of the coffee shop. I then read the news reports about the incident. The news reported that .40 shell casings were found.
I got up from the bed, and went over to the living room where I found Noah’s briefcase. Taking it to the hallway bathroom, I closed the door, and turned on the light. I rummaged through it. While doing this, I saw pictures of Hannah King’s body at the crime scene, taken by the police.
Then I found Noah’s gun. The gun’s safeties were on, and I checked to see if there were any bullets in the magazine. As I checked the magazine, some of the bullets fell on the bathroom tile, making clinking sounds. I put the bullets back.
My dad used to take me to the shooting range as a kid. I grew up around gun lovers like him. Like my mother, I didn’t see guns as an object of love, or a hobby, and would only shoot to spend time with Dad. Putting bullets in a magazine was something I’ve done countless of times as a kid. There were fifteen bullets in the magazine. This model would normally have that number.
At that moment, more guilt came over me. I shouldn’t have checked Noah’s gun. Noah had cheated on me in the past, but he said he never would. Was he right? Did I treat our relationship differently? I shoved the Glock back in the case, while making sure that the safeties were on.
I made a mental note to ask Noah if I could look at the King pictures later. I didn’t want him to know I went through his briefcase, even though as his boss I could.
Before I left the bathroom, I saw how I looked in the mirror. Dark circles were under my bloodshot eyes. My face was sunken with shock and fatigue. I certainly looked like s**t.
I couldn’t think of any motive for why anyone else would shoot Anton except for his wife, Jessica.
Certainly there was no motive to shoot me. Or was there? I still had the tablet with me, so I started typing up notes from the sink creating a quick list of disgruntled clients.
This took several hours before I realized how futile this exercise was.
I stepped out of the bathroom and walked quietly to put the briefcase back.
Since the sunlight started creeping into the bedroom, I could see the whole room illuminated by light. As I walked back to where Noah lay, he turned and faced me. He yawned. “Morning.”
“Hey, sleepy head,” I chimed.
“Did you get any sleep?”
“No. Too much to think about.”
“Are you doing work?” He pointed to the iPad in my hand.
“Just trying to figure out the shooting.”
“Did you figure out who would want to kill Anton?”
I shrugged. “His wife is all I can think of. They had a rocky marriage. At least that’s how Anton described it. But, I’m wondering if I was the target.”
“Why would you be the target?” Noah sat up.
“I moved my chair back right before the shots were fired. So I can easily have been the target.”
“Who’d want to hurt you?”
I looked at him for a second but decided not to mention that until I checked his gun, I thought he tried to kill me too.
I sat on the edge of the bed. “I wrote out a list of former clients,” I said, showing him what I wrote. “I can’t believe anyone would try it, but I guess anything is possible.”
“Let’s put this stuff away. You need to rest. I’ll research these people on your list to see if they could have been around Oakhaven at the time. And, I thought the doctor said you should take it easy—no work for a while?”
“I am taking it easy. There’s nothing I can’t do. We just proved that a few hours ago! I just have to make sure to change the bandages on my arm. Put it in a sling for a day or two. Try not to overdo it, you know. It’s still painful but it’ll get better. I know it.”
“I’m glad there’s nothing you can’t do,” said Noah, grinning. He took my hand and put it on his c**k. Last night he caressed me, tenderly held me in his arms, told me he loved me, and attended to me with his tongue and mouth. This morning he wanted to be serviced. My mouth was being tasked to perform.
I didn’t disappoint.
- Writer
