The Kill

I couldn’t let it go on. I had begged, cried for Jared to get help. He wasn’t stable.

One day, he was my Jare-bear, my high school sweetheart, the father of my baby girl.

The next, he was ‘Jonathan’. Jonathan, my abuser, my worst enemy, the boogeyman in my daughter’s closet.

It was starting to seem like Jonathan was overpowering him, like he was taking control. Whenever I tried to talk to Jared about getting help, Jon would waltz in as if he was the center of the universe. He would tell me to stop, and then he’d beat me. He’d try to make up for it by making love. But it wasn’t love. It was lust and hatred. I couldn’t let it reach my daughter. I couldn’t let him reach my daughter.

I loved Jared. But I had to do him a favor. I had to stop him, I have to kill him.

I’m killing for safety.

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“Don’t forget your Barbie’s and your socks, just grab everything and stuff it in the suitcase, Lacey. Lacey? Lacey! Get away from the door!”

“But daddy–”

“Get away!” I snapped and she scurried over to me with a frown. I grabbed her wrists and crouched down, looking into her eyes, her father’s eyes. “Remember, you’re going to put in these earplugs and not leave the room until one of us comes and gets you, okay?”

“But–”

“Lacey, listen to me! I’m trying to… fix something. I do not need you in the way. Alright? Do you understand? Are you going to obey?” I prodded.

“Yes ma’am,” she pouted and I smiled, handed her the ear plugs and slipped out of the room. In my thick caramel jacket, I had a 9 mm and I learned how to use it at the local shooting range. This wouldn’t take long, this shouldn’t take long. But some things just don’t go as planned.

Take Jared, for example. He wasn’t supposed to get in the way.

“Hey,” he shouted with a smile that made me melt. I can’t do this. I can’t do this.

I have to do this.

He tripped over the small stool for Lacey and fell into me, causing me to melt more. He’s my boyfriend. I can’t do this. “Hey,” I mumbled back as his lips met mine softly. Now or never. I have to do this.

I placed the barrel against the side of his head. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered, feeling my eyes sting.

“Baby? What are you doing?” You could hear the terror in his voice. You could see the panic in his eyes. I closed my own: still, I could feel the anxiety emitting from all corners of the kitchen. We had a lovely, cozy home. Our kitchen still had the odor of fresh wood. And I’m trying to stall myself. Jared didn’t deserve this. I sighed; even if I put down the gun, I don’t think he’d ever trust me again, and I doubt he’d believe a word I would say. He always forgets.

“Jare,” I huffed, slowly bringing the gun down and opening my eyes. “You don’t under–” And with the speed of light, Jared swiped the gun out of my hand, sending it soaring through the air, cutting through that fresh wood aroma. Cold, soft fingers wrapped around my throat and slammed me against the wall.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Jared growled menacingly and I struggled to catch air like butterflies. “You’re trying to get rid of me, aren’t you?” He hissed and leaned in close to me, grabbing my bottom lip with his teeth and yanking back. When I turned my face away from him he kneed me in the stomach. I should’ve kept my eyes open, because then I would’ve seen him become Jonathan. Damn!

“Ah!” I gasped, groping around, until finally I found a picture with a frame and snatched it off the wall.

“It’s not gonna be that easy,” he chuckled. I decided he didn’t have his guard up, and slammed the picture down over his head. He immediately let go of me, and I fell to the floor, crawling away like a mouse from a cat. The glass hit the ground sounding more like thunder than glass. “Come back here!”

When Jared clutched my ankle and tugged me back, I kicked at him with my other foot. “Let me go!” I screamed, my hand hopping around, searching for another weapon. I kept kicking and searching, flailing about, finally getting out of Jared’s grope. I threw myself on my stomach and began to crawl and scuttle on my knees as fast as I could, taking a stomp up to start running. This didn’t work, as Jared tackled me to the floor. “Fuck!” I shouted as my head smashed against the floor.

Jared flipped me over and with a piece of glass in between his fingers in his left hand at my throat. “What’s wrong, honey? Why are you acting out so suddenly, huh?” He taunted me, lightly scraping my skin with the glass but not actually cutting it. His knees were against the sides of my abdomen, his feet touching the sides of my knees.

“I won’t let you touch my daughter!” I shouted and spat in his right eye. He slashed right under my left eye in fury, and wiped away the spit with his other hand.

“Bitch!” He scowled, slapping me across the face. A smeared line of blood was painted on his right palm. I tried to slap the glass out of his hands, and I did so, but I sliced both my fingers, and Jared’s. He dropped the glass and it grazed my ear, causing me to hiss in pain.

“Bastard!” I cried. I watched Jared’s hand clench and I could only wait as his white knuckles came to smash my cheek. His fist came like a hammer to my face, feeling like he caused my jaw shatter when I immediately tasted blood and could swish teeth around my mouth. I spat them like pellets out, and Jared grabbed my cheek, pressing it in to make my lips pucker.

“Hmm, and I wonder, once you’re gone, once I get rid of you, who will take care of my sexual desires? Maybe, Lacey, huh?” He mocked me, tortured me with his words.

“You sick mother fucker!” I hollered, and in rage I kicked a foot upwards into his crotch. Even if I didn’t make it out of this alive, I would make it where it hurt too much for him to even jack off. He groaned and I could feel his body weaken and shudder. I shoved him off of me without much difficulty, luckily, and ran back into the kitchen, searching for the gun that had disappeared in behind the island. “Where is it?” I thought aloud.

“You fucking bitch!” I heard a muffled holler from Jared in the hallway. I have to do this. I have to do this. If I don’t… he’ll hurt my baby!

I started fumbling with the knives, adrenaline taking over, and all I could hear was the pumping of my heart and the slash of the largest butcher knife as I snatched it out of the box. I was going to make it that he didn’t have anything to jack off with at all.

I felt arms wrap around my waist and throw me over the island but I didn’t let the knife slip out of my hold. My hip hit the granite counter top and I collapsed on the floor. Refusing to pause for even a moment to soak all the pain in, I scurried around the opposite side and pushed Jared to the hallway floor. I jumped on top of him, my knees pushed right up under his armpits. I clutched some of his hair and slammed the back of his head against the ground. He gasped in pain, coming to quick realization that I had the knife against his Adam’s apple now, and that I was the one in control.

“Wow,” Jared muttered, panting. I hesitated.

“Wow what?” I asked, irritated.

“I never knew you had it in you. All this… spice,” he chuckled. I grimaced. “It’s… stunning.” I wanted to puke, but I had to admit that I blushed slightly. I didn’t really get compliments like stunning, and certainly not when Jared was… ‘Jonathan’.

“Yeah, well, don’t think you can flatter me out of this,” I hissed.

“Will you marry me?” He asked quickly. What?! I jerked my head back in astonishment.

“What?!” I voiced.

“Marry me! If only I had seen it in your eyes earlier. You’re… incredible,” he sighed in some sort of admiration.

“No! You’re not the man I love! You’re not my Jared!” I scolded, and he lifted his head off of the ground.

“I am Jared. And Chelsea, I love you. Marry me,” he pleaded. I stared hard into his eyes. My daughter’s eyes. He was telling the truth.

I couldn’t resist. Maybe this was the real Jared. Maybe he wouldn’t hurt me now that he knew what I was capable of. But I couldn’t word an answer. I placed the knife down above his head and took his cheeks in my hands.

“Jare…” I whispered against his lips before truly kissing him. It was soft but deep, the sweetest taste you can taste without your tongue. I didn’t have to do this. I wouldn’t have to do this. I’ll never have to kill him. And I was more than thankful.

And I might marry him. After 10 years, I might marry him.

“Mommy? Daddy?” I knew Lacey mumbled as she stepped into the hallway, even though I wasn’t looking at her. Jared fumbled with his pocket, and as I lifted my head to look at our daughter, a loud bang went off, and I screeched when I realized that he had just killed my baby girl.