Fallout 08: For Love of Money
This is the eighth installment of a new series called, "Fallout" that deals with the consequences of cheating. The current plan is that each entry in the series can be read as a separate story.
The following was inspired by several stories dealing with husbands who get cheated on for greed. Yes, there are consequences...
Many thanks to those who offered comments and constructive criticism on my previous stories. For those who want to say this or that would never happen, remember this is my universe, a place where nearly anything can, and often does, happen. At least on paper...
Please refer to my profile for more on my personal policy regarding comments, feedback, follows, etc. (Yes, I DO moderate comments) And please remember, this is a work of fiction, not a docu-drama...
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The first thought that crossed my mind when I woke up was that my throat was a bit sore. I tried speaking but found that I couldn't. That's because there was something in my throat -- something hard. I looked around and realized I was in a hospital room with tubes and wires connected to various parts of my body. I also discovered a cast had been placed on my left arm and I could feel the bandages on my face.
What the hell's going on, I wondered. How long have I been here? What happened to me? I tried moving but found it difficult. The door to my room opened and a nurse came in to check on me. She looked at my chart and checked my vitals, then left the room.
A few minutes later, she was back with what I presumed was a doctor. He also checked my vitals and flashed a light in my eyes. After he finished humming and hawing, he spoke to the nurse and the two of them removed the tube that had been placed down my throat. That explained why I couldn't talk earlier.
"Welcome back to the land of the living, Mr. Neely," the doctor said, standing up. That was me, by the way. Jackson Neely, or "Jack" to my friends. I tried talking, but my throat and lips were too dry. The nurse gave me an ice chip and I sucked on it until it melted, then she gave me another.
"How... long?" I managed to croak.
"You've been here for ten days, Mr. Neely," the doctor said. "You had some swelling on your brain and we put you in a coma to let your head heal. You took quite a blow to the head. You also suffered a broken arm." He turned to the nurse. "Why don't you call Mrs. Neely and let her know her husband is awake," he said. I shook my head when he said that.
"No!" I told him. He looked at me, concerned.
"Why not?" he asked.
"She's the reason I'm here," I said as I sucked on another ice chip.
"I see," the doctor said. "Perhaps we should contact the police, then?" I nodded my head.
"Yes," I said. "And a divorce attorney." The doctor laughed at that.
"We'll get the police for you," he said. "In fact, there's already been a detective asking us about you. You'll have to find your own divorce attorney, though." I nodded my head.
"Thanks anyway," I told him. He chuckled, then ordered the nurse to take me down for X-rays. When I was wheeled back into my room, a man wearing a trench coat came in and introduced himself.
"Detective Mel Greene, Metro PD," he said as he flashed a badge. "You feeling good enough to talk for a few minutes?"
"Yes," I said as I took a sip of water. He sat down next to my bed, pulled out a pad and an audio recorder. He set the recorder on the tray in front of me and turned it on.
"I hope you don't mind if I record this," he said.
"No, not at all," I said. He spoke into the recorder, to mark the date, time, and location of the interview then turned to me.
"Okay, Mr. Neely," he said. "Tell us what happened."
"Well, I had just got home after spending a couple days in Pittsburgh with a client," I told him. "I had finished the visit a day early and wanted to get home to be with Julie, my wife. When I got home, I saw a strange car in the driveway.
"I figured that she was maybe having company -- one of the girls from her office. I parked in the driveway and went into the house. Most of the house was dark, but I saw light coming from upstairs and I heard moaning.
"I had a pretty good idea what was going on, but I went upstairs anyway. That's when I saw them -- Julie and some guy -- having sex in my bed. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Well, I stepped into the room and yelled out. They stopped and looked at me like I was an alien or something.
"The guy unplugged from my wife and I went after him. I was gonna belt him in the mouth, but he beat me to the punch. Literally. He hit me square in the face. Once. That was the biggest fist I had ever seen in my life. The next thing I know, I'm waking up here," I said.
"Uh-huh," Detective Greene said. "Did you recognize the man with your wife?"
"No, I've never seen him before," I said.
"Did you know your wife was having an affair?" he asked.
"I suspected something was going on, but I wasn't sure," I said. "Wait a minute," I added. "I just remembered. There are cameras set up in the house. I hired a private investigator just before my last trip. I wanted to find out if my wife was cheating on me. He wired up the house for audio and video just before I left. Everything was supposed to be saved to a cloud server. I never got a chance to check when I got home. It's probably still there." Detective Greene opened his bag and pulled out a laptop.
"Think you can access that from here?" he asked.
"I think so," I said. "I have the credentials written down on the back of a card he gave me. It should still be in my wallet." The detective went to the small wardrobe in the room and pulled my wallet out of the back pocket of my trousers. I looked through it and found the card. "Here it is," I said, pulling the card out. I handed the wallet back and he tucked it inside my back pocket.
"Angus McGregor," Detective Green said, reading the name on the front of the card. "Is that your PI?"
"Yes, it is," I said.
"He's the one who called 911," the detective said. "From what I was told, he gave officers a statement, then followed the ambulance here and gave the hospital your insurance information."
"Have you spoken to him yet?" I asked.
"Yes," Greene said. "Told me he found you on the floor at the foot of your stairs, then called 911. No one else was in the house at the time he found you. Let's see what the video shows us," he added as he fired up his laptop and connected to the hospital's wifi. Once connected, he swung the laptop around so I could log in.
I typed in the information Julius had written on the card and was presented with a directory listing of videos. I selected the video corresponding to the time I was at the house and hit play. The video began as Julie, my soon-to-be ex-wife, entered the living room through the front door, followed by a very large, muscular, bald-headed man.
"Do you recognize that man?" Mel asked.
"He's the one who hit me," I said. "I've never seen him before that day, though." We continued watching the video. After looking around the room, Julie turned to the man and gave him a scorching hot tongue kiss.