There is no actual sex in this story, if that is what you want go elsewhere. I chose to put it in LW because there is no category for loss of trust.
*
The gunshots were loud; I could see him lying on the floor holding his groin. What was left of his equipment was sliding down the wall behind him. A few of the shotgun pellets had hit my wife; she did not realize it yet.
She kept saying "No!" to him but he did not bother to listen.
He screamed to her "I took you to dinner, dancing and out for drinks. I deserve something for all the money I put out."
I looked; his thigh was peppered with buckshot. It ran from just under his armpit to his knee.
The first words out of her mouth were to me, "How dare you come into my house, in violation of a restraining order and do this to my guest!"
To repeat the words of that famous radio guy "...and that's the rest of the story."
My name is Benuel, Benuel Thompson. She is my wife of 15 years Marti. We met in college, dated exclusively and married 3 months after we graduated. We have 3 children ages 13, 11 and 8. I have no idea where they are tonight, they are not here. That is good.
Marti is an elementary teacher. I am a geologist. Every other year I am sent somewhere for 6 weeks to help with oil exploration. The rest of the time I work in the local office, it's about ¼ mile down the road.
The house we live in belonged to my maternal grandparents. I inherited it when they died about 10 years ago. The title is only in my name as per their instructions.
Before moving into the house I had it wired for sound, still photos and video recording. I have many sensitive company documents in a very secure office in the house. As vice president of the company I need to have them.
To monitor the house I listen to the phone calls and scan through the front and back door recorders to see who comes and goes. I can access the computer storage with my laptop from anywhere in the world with internet access.
Marti and I talk by phone at least every other day. One day she just stopped communicating with me. The last time we talked she acted like she was mad with me; but would not say why. I turned the camera on in our bedroom and she was sitting on the corner of the bed with tears running down her face.
I asked, "Why are you crying?"
Her response was "How can you tell?"
"I can hear it in your voice."
She was silent for a minute and finally asked "Where are you and where have you been for the last 2 weeks?"
"I am at the job site about 25 miles west of Sitka, Alaska in the Bering Sea. I have been here for the last 3 weeks."
"Liar!" then she hung up and I could see her turn the phone off.
I immediately started to look at the photos of who had come into the house. Yesterday she was visited by her college friend Veronica; "Call me Roni." I brought up the cameras for the kitchen because they like to talk at the table there. They were looking at pictures on the table and Marti was crying. The resolution was not good enough to determine what was in those photos.
Roni left after 2 hours and Marti scooped up the photos and took them to our bedroom. She hid them in the top of the closet. She went to bed with tears streaming down her face.
I called my boss and said there was an emergency that I needed to deal with at home.
I was not able to fly off the platform for 2 days due to bad weather. Every day I called and left messages for her on the answering machine and her cell; she never called back.
I took another 2 days to get back into town. I got in late on Thursday and stayed at a motel that evening. I did drive out but the house was dark by the time I got there so I turned around and went back to the motel.
I accessed the monitors and knew the family was all there and safe so I got as much sleep as my restlessness would allow. Early the next morning I parked the company car, with all my things, on their lot and walked home. I concealed myself in the garden shed until they left.
The sight that greeted me was astounding. Every possession of mine was thrown into the backyard; I do mean everything. The locks were changed and the garage door would not move. I went in through a basement window. I know how to force it and do no damage.
I methodically went through each room, watched all the recordings and developed a plan.
The phone recordings showed a call from Roni; she thought that Marti needed a night on the town. She had set up a double date with 2 fellows she knew and insisted Marti go along "...to take her mind off of the divorce."
Divorce was a new step to me; there had been no talk on the phone or visits from Roni to talk about one.
I found the photos where she had left them, the guy in the photos did look like me; like I did 2 weeks before I left. 2 days before I left I got my hair trimmed short and shaved the beard. The digital time stamp on the photos showed that they were taken on the 12th of the month, I had been on the platform for 2 weeks at that time. I recognized the woman in the photos as another college friend of Roni and Marti. Her name was Sue. I took the photos to my office in the basement and scanned them into my computer for safe keeping and put the originals back. I found Marti's address book and called Sues home number from a throw away phone I kept in my desk. Her husband answered, we have met before. I told him who I was and said we needed to talk. I sent the photos to him via email after he promised to not disclose to Sue that he had them. He checked her calendar and told me that on the date of the photos Sue and Roni were shopping in the next town all day. I was starting to smell a rat.
I hear you saying "Wait a minute. She threw everything into the yard?"
My office holds important, secure company documents; the room is sound proof, fire proof and burglar proof. You can't get into it without a backhoe and jack hammer or dynamite. The door was badly scarred; but there had been no breach of the area.
I keep the computers and battery backups for the security cameras in there. I also keep my gun collection in that room, locked in a built in gun safe. I got out my shotgun and a 358 handgun.
All I could do now was wait.
Near 11:30 the buzzer on the front door sounded in my office. I had that installed a few years back when Marti came home and surprised me in my office. I almost shot her that evening when she came sneaking down the steps.
I slowly crept up the stairs and looked down the hall to the living room. Marti was there with a man I had never seen before. He was getting all too familiar with her. She was very close to drunk and kept trying to get him to leave. I silently snuck into the dining room for a better view of what was going on. He was rude, he was persistent; he was slowly undressing Marti. She was out of it enough to not notice but had the sense to keep telling him to leave. She kept saying "NO. I am not that sort of person. I do not know you well enough to do this. I do not want this." I knew this was all recording.
Finally he backhanded her across the mouth and dropped his pants. His erection was sticking out; I was not impressed with the size. I was about 2 feet away when there were 2 shotgun blasts and his pecker was sliding down the wall 2 feet behind him.
The resulting noise from the shot left everyone deaf for a few minutes; as my hearing returned I first heard him screaming, then he fainted dead away. Next I could hear Marci screaming at me. She stopped for a breath and I heard the sirens in the background.
I used the time before they got there to call my boss and tell him I would most likely be arrested and to come over as soon as he could with the company lawyer.
When the police got there the door was open, Marti was laying on the sofa with her clothes half off and the guns were lying on the floor 3 feet in front of me. They were not loaded; the shells were on the floor beside me. As they came into the house my hands were up in the air.
The first officer came up to me and I said "You better call an ambulance for Dickless over there before he ruins my carpet. I was handcuffed and taken outside. They read me my rights. The ambulances came for Marci and Dickless, and then they left.
My boss and the lawyer got there soon after. I refused to answer any questions until I had a chance to talk with them.
I was taken and booked for attempted murder, maiming, discharging a fire arm, breaking and entering, assault and vandalism. The charge of vandalism was because they held me for 4 hours in the car and would not let me pee. I pissed myself on their seat.
8 hours after they booked me I was allowed to speak to the lawyer.
Halfway through our conversation there was a knock on the door. The man stepped in and said "Benuel Thompson?"
I nodded.
"You have been served. In addition there is a restraining order requiring you to keep 500 feet away from Mrs. Marci Thompson and her children and their home." He turned and left.
I called to the deputy who escorted him into the room, "Please make note of the time and date I was served."
He gave me a funny look and left the room.
I told the lawyer I was the sole owner of the house, the entire episode was recorded and Dickless was in the act of raping my wife; she had repeatedly told him "No."
The next afternoon I was brought before the judge and formally charged. My lawyer responded not guilty to all the charges. Bail was set at $100,000; my boss made bail for me. I immediately went back before a judge and asked that he remove my wife from the house because it was exclusively mine.
They served her the next day; she had 12 hours to leave the house. When she was still there 24 hours later I had her arrested for trespassing on private property. I went home and had the locks changed again and brought all my things into the house and threw all her things into the backyard where mine had been. When she showed up at the house after her release she was charged with violating the restraining order against her. 2 days later her attorney called mine to talk.
A meeting was set for the next day at noon in my lawyers offices. She hit me with both barrels about my cheating, breaking into the house against a restraining order, harming a guest who she had invited into the home. There was a laundry list of complaints. I listened until she had finished, no one said a word while she was on her tirade.
When she was done I asked "Did you intend to have sex with that man that evening."
"What is it to you, we were separated. The divorce papers had been written and delivered. I was free to do as I wanted."
My lawyer then spoke up and asked hers to indicate the time I was served.
Hers looked at the records and stated the date and time of serving.
"You will notice the date and time of serving the papers was after he was arrested for protecting you from being raped."
"I was not being raped" she said.
I spoke "So you are saying you were going to have consensual sex with that man? I want to file a counter suit for divorce from her on the grounds of adultery.
I found the photos of me having sex with that woman. You know her; don't you?"
"Well I did not look closely at her after I saw you in those photos."
"Why do you think it was me in the photos?"
"I know what you look like from the front and back."
"Where is the large scar on my shoulder from when I rolled the motorcycle at 18 years old?"
She looked "It must be the lighting, I don't see it."
