I Don't

1

James.

At forty two years of age, James Summers never dreamed he'd be getting hitched. He also never dreamed he'd be planning a murder, but no one ever does.

He watched as his brother's carved arms strained as he cracked his knuckles, his lips twisting from side to side. Thomas wasn't new to this kind of thing. James knew he could count on him.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

Thomas had been running from the law his entire life, while James followed every rule the world threw at him. Maybe that's why all the girls flocked to Thomas and not him. Thomas was tall, muscular, and young. James was short, old, fat, and more of a prude than his nuns from grade school.

"I'm sure."

"And you chose your own wedding to do this?"

James nods, his fingers yanking on the ball of his black tie. "Now or never."

The men watched as the clock on the wall ticked by, James time to shine coming quicker than wanted. He soon had to walk down the aisle connected to his fiance's backyard. She'd wanted to do it at her house, nothing too big, not a lot of people. James didn't want to at all, but he rather be married to her than alone.

"She'll be watching you."

"She won't be watching you."

"Jessica's that bad, huh?" Thomas laughed, his brother's failure more appealing than the thrill of the kill. "I thought you two had something."

James shook his head as his cheeks warmed, his brother's teasing apparent in the way he smirked. But, James didn't really care. He wanted to stay and be teased about his failures, but the clock ticked to three and he knew he'd have to walk down that aisle.

He slapped his brother's hand, grasping it tight as he leaned in. "Don't let me down."

"When have I ever?"

James didn't answer, just walked. His eyes locked onto the red petals that dotted the white walkway as he pressed his shoes over top of them. He had to admit, she did a great job. If this was another couple, maybe it would've been beautiful. But, it's not.

James cleared his throat as he walked to the end of the trail, his feet halting as he came to a stop under the floral archway. Thomas was next to walk down, the best man, the man who'd watch as his brother leapt into a doomed marriage.

Then, there she was.

The woman he should've ended things with after it got too deep. He'd always felt something for her, but it was more fluttering in his pants than heart. She was beautiful, no doubt his type. But, James knew that he could have his fair share of his type with the swipe of a card.

He didn't need her.

So why was he still there?

He contemplated just walking straight past her, not sparing her a second glance as he bolted from her backyard. But, even though he was a bastard, he couldn't bring himself to do it. He wanted to give her the best wedding possible so that when their divorce came, he could feel like he did no wrong.

Emilia smiled as she stepped in front of him, her blond curls pinned atop her head. James forced a smile as his eyes counted the wrinkles in her skin. She had a strict skincare regimen. How could she look like this so soon? It was just yesterday that she was everything he ever wanted.

He cleared his throat.

Boy, did that dwindle fast.

She seemed so happy despite having no bridesmaids, hell, not even a maid of honor. Her mother kicked the bucket ten years ago, father never knew her. It's like James was all she had. That thought made his back swelter, his undershirt stuck to his chest.

He had to get her more friends.

The fabric around his groin tightened as Jessica's full breasts jiggled, her hands smacking against one another as she sat down, alone, on a bench. Though he'd wanted to kill her, he couldn't help but be thankful to look at her freckled cheeks one last time. Her long brown hair flowed down her chest, skin smoother than Skippy, legs longer than this marriage would last.

Emilia sighed as Jessica smiled up at them, her tongue wetting her bottom lip. Jessica always liked to taunt her mother, but James never liked it. He didn't want Emilia to find out he'd been inside of her daughter. He'd been between those slender thighs many times before and grown tired of the devil attached to them.

He couldn't lose Emilia to her.

They were both tall, both heavy in the chest, and both blessed with magnificent crystal blue eyes. He liked the blond on Emilia, but Jessica wore the brown better. He liked how they both towered over him, breasts perky, but Emilia drooped lower and lower as the years went by. Jessica never wrinkled and James was sure she never would.

Emilia was beautiful to him and he loved her, but Jessica was toned and tight. She wrapped around him in more ways than one, took him in without caring her mother was asleep in the next room. But her mind was not as toned, nor tight as her body. In fact, she was a loose canon. He'd rather have a woman with wrinkles on her skin, not her mind.

That's why Jessica had to leave town, for good.

James placed a hand on his belly, a gurgle erupted in his intestines. Emilia watched as sweat streamed down his face, the fire burning in his stomach melting him inside out. He could feel his brother's hand on his shoulder, but his body wanted to call it off. He didn't want to do it anymore.

But, James couldn't speak. His mind was frozen, his body was overheating. He could hear his named being called out and his fiance's beautiful blue eyes was the last thing he saw before his vision was ripped away. His heart began to speed, he could still stand, still hear, but it was as if every part of him was dying.

Because it was.

James's lips wriggled as he opened his mouth to scream, but the only sounds that emitted were his last choked breaths as his throat closed, silencing him. He didn't know what was happening, but he felt it all. He felt his brother hold him in his arms as his legs buckled underneath him, felt his fiance kiss him for the last time.

Then he died, never saying I do.