Revenge in Red

I sighed and rubbed away the bead of sweat that ran down my forehead. The stress of working overnight at St. Martin's general hospital was getting to me, but that was what I signed up for when I became a nurse. I smiled when I felt a tap on my shoulder before I heard her voice.

"Go on your break, Melanie. You've done so much work." Alana said as she took the cart from my hands and smiled at me.

"Thank you." I chuckled and conceded, not wanting to be here any longer than I needed to. I walked through the hallway towards the reception with one thought on my mind. My husband, Davon.

I licked my lips and took out my phone to call him. One ring. Two rings. Three. Nothing. I huffed and tried again, the call cutting off just when it started to ring. A frown creased my forehead. Davon always answered my calls, especially this late. For the past two years, he'd been distant, coming home later, showering immediately, barely touching me. The kind of signs I'd told myself I was imagining but it had happened so much that I was sure we had issues in my marriage. Where they were coming from I was not sure.

I had asked Davon multiple times but he always shrugged it off saying that we were okay.

But I was sure that I wasn't imagining anything. We had issues.

I switched through apps, pulling up our home security cameras. It was late, so he'd be back from work by now. My finger hovered over the screen before I tapped the living room camera. Nothing. The kitchen. Still nothing. Then I switched to the bedroom camera and everything changed.

I saw Davon all right, safe and sound, thrusting into a woman whose face I couldn't see as she moaned his name and pawed at him, pulling him close. My eyes widened in shock and my mouth went slack. But that was only the tip of the iceberg.

Just as I stood frozen to the ground, a man stepped into the frame, naked and eager. He walked over to Davon and stopped him with a passionate kiss before he pulled my husband away from his mistress and bent him over. My hand flew to my mouth as I watched my husband being fucked by a stranger, his fingers digging into the satin sheets I picked out and his face contorted in pleasure, his moans even louder than the mistress.

The woman in the footage smirked and moved over to them, inserting herself where she could. I could feel bile rising to my throat, forcing me to throw up on the hospital floor as my world spun. My husband of five years was having a threesome with a man and a woman, and from the looks of it, this wasn't a one-time thing.

"Melanie!" I heard Alana's voice call out to me as she rushed over, her hands steadying me as I spat out the remaining vomit in my mouth and wiped my lips. "What's going on? Are you okay?"

I ignored the question, pulling away from her grip. "I've got to go. Sorry for the mess."

I rushed towards the hospital doors,ignoring Alana's shouts of concern. I needed to get home. I needed to catch him in the act. I needed fucking answers from this man.

It didn't take long for me to get into my car and drive home, neglecting the speed limit. I was barely parked in our apartment driveway when I threw open the door and rushed inside, making a beeline for the bedroom as soon as I got out of the elevator. I paid no mind to the strewn clothes around our house that I hadn't noticed on video and barged into my bedroom.

I wasn't disappointed when I caught all of them still entangled in the sheets, their bodies making me retch. Davon's eyes caught mine in a split second, and like I expected, he pulled away from them both, eyes wide and hands outstretched in a pleading manner.

"Melanie, I can…" He started, those blue eyes piercing the depth of my soul.

"Explain?" I finished for him, my eyes finally seeing red. "How do you explain being in bed with two people? How do you explain fucking a woman in our bed? How do you explain being bent over and getting fucked by someone half your age?" I spat out, glancing at the barely legal looking guy in my bed.

"Hey, I'm 21," the guy spoke up, but I sent him a glare that could melt steel. Twenty-one and messing with a married man of 32. Disgusting. The boy clamped his mouth shut and looked away.

"How did you know all that?" Davon finally asked, shame flickering across his face for a split second before vanishing.

"We have cameras, you idiot. Did you really think that I wouldn't find out about whatever this is?" I questioned, waving my hands at the three of them before I felt the tears run down my face. "How could you do this to me, Davon? To us? I thought you loved me." My voice broke on the last word.

Davon scoffed.

I blinked. He didn't just scoff at me.

"I tolerated you, Melanie. How could I love you? I can barely look at you, to be honest. Have you taken a look at yourself lately?" He mocked, raising a mirror from the dresser to show me.

I stared at my reflection. Thick thighs, soft stomach, curves that filled out my scrubs. The same body he'd once worshipped, the same body he'd told me was perfect just last month. Now he wielded it like a weapon against me.

"You're a fucking pig. You've gotten so big that I can't even think of getting intimate with you. You let yourself go and then have the guts to ask me why I don't love you anymore. You spend so much damn time at the hospital instead of with your husband. When's the last time you cooked a bloody damn meal in this house? Oh, and should I talk about the fact that you can't have children? You can't even give me a legacy to carry on my name. You…"

"You know that isn't my fault. I have a condition," I finally shot back, my voice shaking. He'd told me it was okay. He'd said we'd adopt. He'd promised it didn't matter.

"Fuck your condition!" He screamed, making me flinch. "You are a worthless human being and much less a functional woman. I only married you for the money you had and maybe the sex, but you couldn't even keep that up after two years. I've wasted my life on you. I won't continue it. So if you know what's good for you, you'll get out and leave me the hell alone."

My lip quivered. My heart shattered. Then my blood boiled.

I squared my shoulders and shouted back at him. "Fine then. I'll see what your potential investors think when they watch you being bent over like a little bitch. Oh, and get ready because I am taking every fucking thing in the divorce. You'll go back to being the rat that I saved from the damn gutters."

"You wouldn't dare." Davon's voice dropped to something dangerous, his eyes darkening with something feral.

"Watch me."

I turned and walked away. I thought I would make it to my car. I thought I would go to a hotel room and cry my guts out before arranging for a divorce. But I didn't make it that far.

A hand grabbed my hair and yanked me backward. A scream tore from my mouth as pain shot up my neck. I barely let out another word when a fist collided with my face and my body dropped to the ground.

I looked up to see Davon with his foot raised before he kicked me, and pain exploded in my abdomen. I gasped for air. The beating continued.

“Come on. Join in.” He commanded the others.

I heard the woman's hesitant footsteps, then felt her kicks join in, weaker and uncertain. The young man stayed back at first, but Davon barked at him and soon his blows rained down too.

"You fucking bitch. Look at what you're making me do now," Davon screamed between strikes.

I couldn't fight back. I couldn't move. My body had gone beyond pain into numbness. Just when I thought I might pass out, it stopped. I could finally breathe.

"What should we do with her now?" The woman's voice broke, the reality of what she'd done seeming to hit her.

"We should get rid of her so that the police don't find out," Davon replied, his voice cold and steady, as if he were discussing taking out the trash.

My mouth went dry. No.

“Davon, no.” The man muttered, taking a step back but Davon held him in place.

“Do you want this getting back to you? And what of your father? Do you think he’ll approve of you being with another man?”

I heard nothing else. The boy was probably thinking over his options but I hoped he refused. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. Hands wrapped around my arms and pulled me up to my feet. I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror as I was dragged past. A split lip, bloodied nose, and dark-ringed eyes were the least of my problems. I was sure I had broken ribs and internal bleeding, but it didn't matter when I saw where they were taking me.

The balcony.

"No, please." I begged, my voice coming out strangled and hoarse after someone had kicked me in the throat.

They ignored my pleas and heaved me closer to the railing, the wind whipping my hair around my face. The city lights blurred below, three stories of empty air waiting to swallow me whole.

"When you fall, remember that this was all your fault, Melanie," Davon's voice floated into my ears just as my feet left the ground and I was thrown over the railing.

Cold air ravaged my body as the last faces I saw were the ones of the people who murdered me. I blinked, a tear vanishing from my eyelids. The man I loved just killed me. How could I have been so blind? How could I…

My train of thought cut out just as my back collided with the ground and everything went dark.

I was now a dead woman.