Playing With Fire 26

As always, constructive comments are always welcome. And please remember, this is a work of fiction, not a docu-drama...

*****

I was sitting at the kitchen table waiting for my so-called "loving" wife to finish preparing for what she told me was a "spa weekend" with the girls. Yeah, right. She just walked in the door, told me in no uncertain terms that she was leaving for a three-day trip with the girls from work to visit a "spa resort." And she was leaving that afternoon. Forget the fact that we were supposed to be celebrating our 17th anniversary that weekend.

Of course, I knew it was all bullshit. I wasn't stupid. I'd seen the signs of her lying and cheating for the last several weeks and today I had just gotten the full report from my private investigator, complete with photos, videos and background checks on quite a few of the characters she had taken up with.

And tonight was the night it was going to end, one way or the other. So I sat at the table waiting for her to shower, pack and do whatever it is she had to do to prepare for her weekend. While I waited, I thought about the events that had destroyed our marriage.

When Marie first started working at the insurance company a couple years ago, I supported her, fully. Our daughter, Chelsea, had just turned 14 at the time and was old enough and capable enough to take care of herself with minimal supervision. So my wife decided it was time to go back into the work force and I agreed. I thought the time working would help her deal with the inevitable empty nest when Chelsea went to college.

At the time, I trusted my wife fully. If she told me the sun rose in the west and set in the east that day, I'd probably believe her. That's how honest she was. And I never once questioned her fidelity. Our sex life was good, or at least I thought so. Of course, we weren't teenagers any more, but we still managed to get together at least three days a week, often giving each other multiple orgasms. To me, Marie was every bit as sexy and beautiful as she was the day we first married.

I was a bit surprised when she asked if she could go out for a drink with the other girls from her office. I'd never known her to go out like that without me, but I trusted her and believed her so I let her have her night. She promised to call and let me know where she was and swore she would call me if she was too drunk to drive. And, she added, this was just going to be a once-a-month thing.

I was okay with that. After all, I would go out golfing with the other guys from work a couple times a month so I thought it was only fair, as long as everything stayed above-board. She always called to let me know where she was and I only had to go pick her up once when her friend, Sue, called to let me know they had just a bit too much to drink and didn't want to risk a DUI.

Things were okay for the next few months, but I noticed she was out later and later, and the once-a-month outing turned into two or three times a month. Then it became a weekly event and on occasion, two or three times a week. Eventually, she was out more than she was home. And of course, our sex life took a major hit. Instead of three times a week, I was lucky if we made love once a week.

I was suspicious, but didn't say much, not wanting to cause a stir.

Then it happened. She took off for one of her outings, giving me a quick peck on the cheek. She sped off in her car not giving me a second glance. After an hour or so, I realized I hadn't heard from her so I called. I dialed her number and was surprised to hear her phone ringing in the bedroom. Sure enough, she left it behind.

So, being the nice guy I am, I thought I'd take it to her. I knew they usually went to the lounge at the Holiday Inn not too far from us, so I grabbed her phone and headed out, taking Chelsea with me, hoping she could help me spot her car. When I got there, however, her car was nowhere to be found.

I called her friend, Sue, to see if maybe they had gone to a different location, but Sue told me they weren't out that evening. In fact, she said, they hadn't been out for a couple weeks and wouldn't be doing anything for at least another two weeks.

"Any idea where she might be?" I asked.

"No, Joe, I really don't know. I'm sorry," she said. I asked about the mid-week outings but got the same negative response.

"I don't know what she's telling you, Joe, but we only go out one Friday a month. Most of us are married with kids, so we don't go out during the week," she told me.

That's when the unthinkable hit me. For the first time, I caught my wife lying. I couldn't help but think that she was cheating on me.

"Has Marie mentioned anything in the office?" I asked.

"Not directly, but she has been acting a bit different lately," she said. Damn. I asked if she could please let me know if she heard anything.

"Sure, Joe, I will, promise," she said.

I ended the call and drove back home, not knowing what I would find. Marie wasn't back yet, so I decided to snoop around on her phone to see if I could get any clues.

I looked for texts or emails but found nothing other than the texts I and her co-workers sent. Her call log showed quite a few calls to and from some numbers I wasn't familiar with so I took note of the numbers and tried looking them up. That search went nowhere, so I figured they belonged to what they call "burner" phones.

I thought a bit longer about how to get to the bottom of this and decided to install one of those phone finder apps that keep track of the phone's location. I saw a few other apps that looked like they might be helpful so I installed those as well. Chelsea, being up on all the latest phone technology, was a huge help.

By the time we were done, I was able to track her phone and record any conversation she might be having. I hated spying on my wife, but if she was having an affair, I needed to have some proof. Even though we live in a no-fault state, it just happens to be one of the four states where adultery is still considered a felony.

So I waited. And waited. And waited some more. I turned on the television, but really wasn't paying much attention to it.

It was about 2:30 am when she finally pulled into the driveway. I knew something was wrong the second she walked in the house. Her hair was disheveled, her clothes messed up and she reeked of alcohol, cigarette smoke and sex.

"Sorry I'm late," she said, heading upstairs into the bathroom. I followed her.

"Where the hell were you?" I asked. "You left your phone and we went out looking all over for you. And what the hell happened to you? You reek!"

"We were celebrating Sue's birthday and went to a couple different places," Marie said. Another lie.

"Really?" I asked. "Then why did Sue tell me you guys haven't been out for a couple weeks?" Marie's eyes got big.

"Um, I don't know," Marie said. "Please let me get cleaned up, okay? I'm really tired and I have a headache," she added, closing the bathroom door and locking it. That was a first. I knew something was wrong and was both angry and relieved. Angry over her lying and possible cheating and relieved she was home, safe.

After her shower, she climbed into bed and went to sleep. I wanted to have it out with her right then, but decided to wait until the morning after we both had some sleep. I checked out her clothes and noticed the tell-tale signs of sex.

Things weren't much better the next morning. Chelsea gave me a knowing look and went to her room, paying attention to whatever was happening on her phone.

"Marie," I began, "in all the years we've been married, you have never lied to me. Last night, you lied not once but twice. I'm trying to keep it together here, but I want an explanation. Are you having an affair? Do you want to split up?"

Her eyes got wide and she began stammering.

"No, Joe, I don't want to split up, I love you more than anything else. Please, you have to believe me," she said.

"I'd like to believe you, Marie, really, I would. But you never answered my first question. Are you having an affair?" I asked. Her face got red at that. At first I thought she was going to break down and confess, but then her attitude changed. Completely.

"What the hell difference does it make if I'm having an affair?" she asked. "What do you care? Huh? When was the last time you just took me and fucked me like when we were younger?"

"What?" I asked. "You're kidding, right? When was the last time you were home long enough for us to do anything? Hell, you're gone two to three nights a week doing God-knows-what with God-knows who. Then I find out you've been lying to me the whole time."

"Okay," she said, "I'm sorry I wasn't completely truthful with you. I started going to a gym and then the trainer and I starting going out with some of the others from the gym for a couple drinks and sometimes we lost track of time."

I knew this was another lie. There weren't any workout clothes, unless her regimen involved high heels and micro-skirts. And we had never received any bills from any gym that I was aware of.

"Here's the deal," I said, trying to calm down. "Right now, my trust level just isn't there. Things had better change around here fast. And if you are having an affair, that's it. I won't tolerate cheating - at all. Got it?"

Marie's attitude changed again. She hugged me and we kissed.

"I'm sorry, you're right," she said. "I'll do better, please believe that I really do love you."

I decided to play along and held her close but decided to keep a close eye on her. I was quite disturbed by the fact that she never denied having an affair. First things first, though. I took her upstairs and we spent the morning making love to each other.

Things were okay at home for the next couple weeks, but I decided it was time to get proof, once and for all. Even though we seemed to reconnect for a whole, she was still gone twice a week, including Friday nights. I knew through Sue they had one actual girl's night out, but the other times were a mystery.

I kept tabs on her phone and found that she had been spending some time at the Riverfront Motel, a fairly seedy joint in a bad section of town. I followed her once and saw her mingling with a group of guys who didn't look very friendly. I took a couple photos with my phone, then headed home.

I decided to bring in a professional, so after doing some research I hired John Smith, a retired police detective who started his own investigative company.

"So," he asked me, "what do you have?" I told him about what I saw, what the phone finder app revealed and showed him the pictures I took of her.

"Hmmmm," he said. "Looks like a pretty rough crowd. Let me work on this and I'll be in touch one week from today. In the meantime, don't do anything stupid and just be yourself."

John was good to his word and called me one week to the day. I made an appointment to see him and that was the day my world ended.

"Looks like your wife has gotten involved with some very bad characters," he said. "I've got a bunch of photos and videos. You may not want to look at them, but you need to know the truth. I'm sorry."

He pulled out a large manila envelope that held a number of color glossy photos. All of them showed my Marie in various positions with a bunch of men. Several showed her taking more than one man at a time and there were some showing Marie with two cocks in her pussy at the same time. None of the men were using any condoms and I knew Marie didn't have any birth control.

"Over the course of the last week, we observed your wife with no less than 25 different men," he said. "Check this out," he added, pointing to a photo of Marie surrounded by a group of five men. "See those tattoos? That's MS-13, probably the meanest motherfuckers you can imagine. Your wife has really hooked up with a bad bunch of hombres.

"This guy," he said, pointing to a younger clean-cut man, "seems to be the ringleader. His name is Julio Cabrera, and he has ties to just about every drug cartel there is. He moonlights as a gym trainer and we believe that's how he recruits his women. He's a slick sonofabitch and he's a well-known ladies' man. Your wife probably didn't have a chance."

So, I thought, maybe Marie was telling the truth about joining a gym after all.

"Why doesn't the police take action, you know, round them up?" I asked.

"Easier said than done," John answered. "These guys aren't just tough, they're slick. And they have lots of protection. That's not to say the feds aren't looking at them - they are. They're just biding their time. And they usually don't confide in PIs like me."

"So what do I do?" I asked. I was certainly in no shape to go up against MS-13 but I didn't want to let this crap keep on happening.

"My best advise to you is this," John said. "Knowing these guys, you'd better cut your losses. Take your daughter and move. Dump your wife. Don't let her know where you are. Cut all ties with her. It's obvious she's hooked on this lifestyle and chances are they'll come after you and your little girl. I've got all the information you'll need or want there in the report. Again, Joe, I'm sorry. I wish I had better news."

I paid the bill and left his office, feeling like my entire world had been destroyed. I asked myself all the questions husbands ask in situations like this. Why had she done this? Was I not a good enough husband and father? Was I not good in bed?

I got home and cried for what seemed like forever. I was still crying when Chelsea got home from school. I had to tell her the truth, as hard as it was. She naturally didn't take it too well and threatened to claw her mother's eyes out the first chance she got. Looking at the clock, I realized that Marie would be coming home in about two hours, so I called my mother and made arrangements for Chelsea to stay with her for a bit.

"What's going on, Joe?" my mother asked.

"I'll tell you all about it later, Mom," I said. "Marie's been cheating on me and it's bad - real bad. There's a possibility Chelsea could be in danger so I don't want her around here for a few days. It is okay if she stay with you?"

"Of course it is, dear," my mother said. "I'll come get her."

Chelsea packed up and left with my mother. Both women gave me a hug as they left.

"No matter what," Chelsea said, "you're my Dad and I love you."

"I love you, too, Chelsea," I said, kissing her forehead. "I'll be in touch, okay?"

After they left, I went to my gun safe and grabbed a .45 caliber semiautomatic and loaded it up with hollow point bullets. Given who Marie was hanging around with, I decided to take no chances. I put the pistol next to my briefcase on the kitchen table and waited for Marie.

I didn't have long to wait. Marie came in the door, looked at me and announced her plans for the weekend.

"Sorry to drop this on you at the last minute," she said, "but some of the girls and I are going away for a spa retreat this weekend, starting today."

"Oh, really?" I asked. "How did this happen?"

"Our office got rewarded for a very productive quarter and the higher-ups decided to give us the weekend. Isn't that great?" she asked, smiling.

"Just fucking peachy," I said. She looked at me a bit nervous.

"What's the matter?" she asked. "Aren't you happy for me?"

"What about our plan for the weekend? Our anniversary is coming up and we were going to celebrate," I said.

"I'll make it up to you when I get back Monday or Tuesday," she said.

"Monday OR Tuesday?" I asked. "You don't even know when you'll be back? Are you telling me your little getaway is more important than our marriage?"

"No, it's just a one-time thing, that's all," she said. "I'd better go get ready and get packed. My ride will be here soon."

And with that, she was up the stairs, leaving me alone at the table. So I waited.

Eventually, she came back down, dressed in a tiny micro skirt that barely came below her crotch and a see-through blouse with no bra. I could tell she was wearing a thong, but noting else. She completed the ensemble with a pair of open-toed sandals. She carried an overnight bag and a clothing bag and set them by the door.

"See you later," she said, waving at me from the door. Apparently, she was going to leave without even giving her husband a goodbye kiss. She started to open the door.

"Marie, we have to talk, right fucking now," I said. She stopped and looked at me.

"Joe, my ride will be here any minute and I can't be late," she said. "The girls are expecting me."

"Trust me, Julio and the gang at the Riverfront Motel will still be there when you arrive," I said. She stopped and her eyes went to the floor. "Now get your cheating ass over here so we can talk. Then you can leave for your so-called 'spa weekend,'" I said.

"You know about Julio?" she asked quietly.

"I know you've been fucking him and a whole bunch of other guys for quite a while. So we need to talk," I said.

Marie slowly walked to the kitchen table and noticed the pistol for the first time.

"What's with the gun?" she asked. "Are you going to shoot me?"

"Not unless you try to shoot me first," I said, pulling the manila folder out of my briefcase. I opened it up and put some of the photos on the table in front of her. Her eyes grew wide as she saw the images of her being gang-fucked by multiple men.

"Tell me, Marie," I said, "which of these are the girls from work? Hmm?"

"Joe, please, I screwed up big time. Please forgive me. Just give me this weekend and I'll make it up to you," she begged, tears falling down her face.

"Why are you doing this, Marie? Why the lies?" I asked.

"I can't tell you why. I wish I could, but I can't. Please believe me. I have to do this," she said.

"You HAVE to go out and spend a weekend getting fucked by who knows how many men? Are you shitting me?" I asked.

"You don't understand," she sobbed.

"I understand that my wife of almost 17 years, the mother of our child, is throwing away her marriage to fuck a bunch of gangsters. I don't understand the why, but I understand what is going to happen after this. Do you? Do you have any idea what's going to happen?" I asked.

"Please," Marie sobbed. "I'll do anything. Counseling, you name it. I'll be your slave if you want. Just let me do this."

"Goddammit, Marie, how fucking stupid are you?" I asked angrily. "Do you know who you're dealing with? You're playing with fire here, and you're only going to get burned. How in the fuck did you get involved in this?"

"You remember when I said I was going to a gym?" she asked. I remembered. "That's where I met Julio. He was working with me, showing me how to use the equipment and helping me achieve what I wanted. I wanted to look good for you, Joe. He was so nice to me, charming, telling me how beautiful I am. Then afterward, he invited me out for a drink. I don't know what happened after that, maybe he used a date rape drug, I don't know. But he made me feel like a young woman all over again. It just went downhill from there. Soon, he introduced me to his friends and said if I didn't go along, he'd send you video of us fucking. He even threatened to go after Chelsea if I didn't cooperate."

"And this weekend?" I asked.

"This is our goodbye weekend. I told him I couldn't do this anymore and it had to end. So he arranged this weekend and promised it would be over, forever," she said.

"Oh, it'll be over, alright," I said. "If you do this, we're definitely finished. Do you know some of those friends he had you fuck are MS-13?"

"No, I didn't know," she said.

"And do you honestly think they're just going to let you walk away?" I asked. "Let me tell you a little something about lover boy, okay?"

I pulled out a newspaper clipping and a photo of a young girl whose throat had been slashed from ear to ear. Marie gasped.