Not Tonight, Honey (A Chuck Wendig Challenge)

Posted: February 14, 2017 in Fiction
Tags: , , , ,

… and just in time for Valentine’s Day. This week’s challenge was to go with one of ten randomly selected titles. Enjoy!

“I’m going out for a run,” Hank called from upstairs, his voice echoing off the walls and floor of the unfinished basement. “Want to go with me?”

“Not tonight, honey,” Elsabeth replied, her arms full of laundry still warm from the dryer. She bundled it into the basket on the floor, hefted it on to her hip. As she walked upstairs, she heard the front door open and close, a swift blast of cold air entering the warm interior of the house. She saw Hanks’s form pass by the front bay window, slowly shuffling his overweight body in a facsimile of a jog. She smiled, proud that he was keeping up with his resolution a month and a half later.

She finished folding and putting away the laundry. She sent a text message, and smiled when she got her answer. She stepped out into the garage, slipping on her coat and boots. She grabbed her house keys and penned a quick note to Hank that she’d run out for some milk. She fully expected to be back before him, but on the off chance she wasn’t, it didn’t pay to take chances.

Elsabeth drove in the opposite direction she knew Hank ran in. He was comforting in his predictability, always taking the same route for his run. She knew this because she did join him for runs two or three times a week. She drove five miles out, pulling in front of a single family home. A light was on over the porch, and she checked her appearance in the mirror. She touched up her lip gloss and fixed her hair. A twitch of a curtain told her someone in the house was watching her, and she smiled at the thought. The door of a detached garage next to the house opened, and she pulled her car in.

By the time she got to the front door, it was already open, Jeremy standing there, thinking he looked hot in nothing but dress slacks and an open dress shirt. Okay, Elsabeth admitted, his body was more aesthetically pleasing than her husbands, but that wasn’t why she chose him.

“Hey babe,” Jeremy said, brushing his hand through his blonde hair. “Finally decided to ditch your husband for the night?”

“How could I resist?” Elsabeth asked, stepping past Jeremy and allowing her coat to fall from her shoulders. Jeremy reached out to take it, hanging it up by the door. “I’m guessing we have the house to ourselves?” A wicked gleam appeared in her sky-blue eyes as she placed her hand on his chest.

Jeremy nodded. “You seemed to be resisting pretty well.”

She laughed, letting her fingers trace down his chest. “I had to know you were persistent.”

Jeremy snorted. “Is that how your lard ass husband got you? Persistence?”

Elsabeth’s eyes went flat and cold. “Do you really think bringing my husband into the conversation is a good idea?” She spun on her heel, striding into the living room.

“Err… no.” She heard him hurrying to follow.

She settled on a black leather couch, placing her arms across the back and stretching out. “A glass of wine would be appropriate don’t you think?” she asked.

“Uh, yes, of course.” Jeremy disappeared into the house, and she could hear the clink of glasses.

Elsabeth sighed. If she was being honest with herself, it had never been difficult to lure men, but in this day and age it seemed easier than ever. She felt she was taking a risk with Jeremy given that he was a coworker, but after seeing him act around the other women in the office, with female clients, with everyone really, she felt she was doing the world a favor. She pulled up the right leg of her jean, slipped the knife out of its sheath. She pushed off of the couch, stood next to the door frame Jeremy had passed through.

Jeremy passed through the door frame, paused, puzzlement clear on his face when he didn’t see Elsabeth. He gasped, hands spasming open and dropping the wine glasses, wine splashing on the shag carpet along with the blood gushing from the severed carotid. She gave him a hard shove, pushing him to the ground and stepping away from the gushing blood. She bent down, pulling a small stoppered vial from her pocket. She collected a bit of blood, careful to not get any on her clothes. Jeremy stared at her, eyes wide in panic, mouth gasping like a landed fish. She brushed her hands through his hair, smiled down at him.

“I’d say it wasn’t personal, but, well, you’re an asshole.” She glanced down, checking her watch. “And as much as I’d love to stay and watch you bleed out, my husband will probably be back from his run soon.” Her mouth turned down in a mock pout. “Better luck next time.”

She wiped the knife off on his shirt, found his phone in his pants pocket and smashed it under her heel. Walking into the kitchen, she was happy to find a gas stove. She opened the burners without lighting them, and found a candle in the dining room. She left the house and got into her car. She whispered a minor spell of concealment as she pulled away, ensuring no one would see her drive away, and anyone who saw her arrive would find themselves unable to recall the specifics of the car she drove or what she looked like.

She arrive back at her house a good ten minutes before Hank, the vial of blood secreted away in her jewelry box for later.

“Everything all right?” Hank asked, still panting for breath, his shirt soaked through despite the chill in the air outside. “You look a little flushed.”

“Oh, I’m fine,” Elsabeth replied.

“I’m going to take a shower. Want to watch something with me after?”

A light gleamed in Elsabeth’s eyes as she placed her hands on Hank’s shoulder, his chest. “Not tonight, honey,” she replied. “But I think I’ll join you for that shower.”

  1. moteridgerider says:

    I’ve still got most of mine to write!

  2. I started reading this with the niggling thought “there’s no way he’d write a simple affair piece…” sure enough, you didn’t disappoint. =) Well done.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s