The Tale of David Patrick Gardner

Killing, Could Be Fun

Katy's first week at her new job was going well.

David continued stewing in a lonely office, doubting that he would ever be paid for the time he was spending there. He just couldn't fathom getting a check for literally doing nothing. He had sat in on a few meetings and said nothing, ran a handful of personal errands for Stephen, but other than that he spent the hours of the day surfing the internet, napping in his chair, or wandering the court house. He had used over a dozen different bathrooms in the building. It gave him something to do to fill the hours, walking from floor to floor finding where all the restrooms were. Marking his territory in a way that was more amusing than anything else.

Finally, after fretting about it for weeks, David did receive his first check, and it was more money than he had ever had at one time. At least he would no longer have to worry about being paid, now he would just have to discover why it was they were paying him.

Katy, too, couldn't believe aspects of her new job, like how friendly everyone was, and the fact that Junior wasn't screwing half the staff, even though he could've likely leveraged his position of power to do so, not that he would've had to, the girls at the salon were unanimously in love with him. He was the beloved benevolent boss who swept the floors and took lunch orders, all while wearing a smile that brightened whatever room he walked into.

Enjoying her new reality, Katy was ready to put Jason, Maggie, and the restaurant behind her. Though she hadn't exactly been tactful in how she left. Jason had texted an hour after her shift was scheduled to start, inquiring about her absence. She tersely responded that she was done, that she didn't appreciate seeing the guy she had been sleeping with fondling teenage waitresses right in front of her face, and that she wouldn't be returning. Jason never replied to her surprise resignation. She figured she'd never hear from him again, so it was a bit surprising when her phone buzzed, alerting her to a message from the former boss.

"I have your last check here. Can I drop it off at your place tonight?" read the text.

Katy knew what would happen if she welcomed him over to her apartment. She would enjoy the sex while it lasted, but then be left feeling used and stupid for once again opening herself up to a man who didn't value her as anything more than a warm place to stuff his junk whenever the urge befell him.

Don't be an idiot, she thought, as the idea of telling him to come over after work crossed her mind. Her rational side took control and she responded, "I'd rather you just mail it to me."

She didn't have to wait long. "Seriously? After all this time you really want to end everything via text? I'll see you after work."

"Fine," she punched into her phone in a moment of weakness, not wanting to continue the pointless volley that she knew would continue until he got his way.

Katy sat her cell down on the desk and went back to reading Heart Sick to pass the time, waiting for the phone to ring or a customer to walk through the door.

Back at her apartment that evening, she prepared herself for Jason's arrival. She was determined to stand her ground and not sleep with him, no matter how much charm he displayed or for how long he begged; she would not so much as touch the tip of his dick with her pinky finger, no nothing nada. She did her makeup, tidied up the place, and changed into something she felt would drive him mad with desire. She wanted the satisfaction of denying him, and hoped to make him regret not valuing her more when he had the chance.

Close to midnight, she heard the knock and went to open the door. There he was.

"Hi, Jason," she said, chin tilted downward, looking up at him, batting puppy dog eyes, with arms straight at her side.

He pulled her in for an extended embrace, wrapping his arms around her like a lover reuniting with his darling after a time apart.

"Come on in," commented Katy, before turning and entering the apartment, walking with an intentional sway that accentuated her feminine features.

"Want to sit?"

Jason positioned himself on the couch. Katy waited to see where he'd land before reacting and choosing a seat sufficiently distant as to avoid any free flowing hands that might be searching for a thigh to caress.

"Here's your check," he said, as he tossed it casually onto the coffee table between them.

"Oh, thanks. So how are things going with Maggie?"

"Oh, God, please. Do you really want to start down that path?" he spoke while shaking his head, and then started staring at Katy with piercing eyes, stood up, and stepped around the small table that separated them, leaving him hovering over his former employee who remained seated. He began running his fingers through her hair, her head at the level of his crotch as he did so.

Katy curled to the side and escaped the chair, having to wiggle away from him before making her way into the kitchen. "Can I get you a glass of water?"

"No, I'm fine," he said, continuing to stand, shifting his weight from foot to foot with his attention facing away from her. He picked up the book that she had left on the coffee table and began thumbing through it.

Katy watched him as he appeared to read a few lines of Heart Sick with his back turned to her. In that moment, something in her subconscious took control and caused her eyes shift from Jason to the kitchen counter, before settling on the knife block. Then the thought appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, her mind connecting the two; one living, breathing, full of hopes and dreams, and the other a sharpened piece of metal that could bring all those hopes and dreams and heartbeats to an abrupt end.

I could do it. I could end his life right here and now. Grab the knife and run it into his back. Pull it out and stick it in again and again. Fuck his torso with my kitchen utensil. I could do it if I wanted to. Why not? I have the tool, the power, the will. But he's nearly two hundred pounds. What if he fought back after the first stab? Am I strong enough to fend him off and finish the job? I don't have a plan and I don't think I'd be able to rid my apartment of all the bloody evidence. I'd be in jail before the sun rose, she thought.

"Good book?" he asked, turning to face her. "Are you okay? You look a little flush."

"Oh, I'm fine, just a head rush. I think I stood up too quickly."

He started to walk towards her, saying, "Come sit down and..."

"No! You should leave. Like now, before something happens."

"Babe, what's going to happen is what always happens when we find ourselves alone together."

"No, really. For your own good, get out. Leave. Now."

"Jesus, what's gotten into you?"

"Leave, you old conniving son of a bitch!"

He took a step back, eyes fixated on Katy who was trembling slightly while looking blankly at something on the kitchen counter. And then she switched her gaze to where he waited, penetrating his defenses and scaring the living daylights out of him with just her stare. Without another word he headed for the door. Until this night he had never before felt an evil like the one that stood across the room from him. In the coming days he would try to convince himself that he hadn't seen what he undeniably did see in those devilish terror inducing eyes. He'd lie to himself that his heart hadn't begun to race at all and, and that if it had, it must've been in anticipation of their usual affairs, not some unfounded ludicrous sense of existential fear coming from that blonde skinny waitress. No way. Denial.