Tamara
Wow. Talk about giving a cold shoulder.
No sex for any of us three. Uncertain of Jason’s motives last night, I find it’s rather odd for him to act this way toward me and Ken.
Sleep’s been a bit elusive for the last few nights. However, it didn’t get so far away from me last night. Then my overactive mind nudges me awake around three thinking about everything going on with the company, with my life, with the guys.
I got out of bed and began getting a few things done around the place that I’d let go. I got caught up on the laundry, swept the floors, and then actually made myself some breakfast to sit down and enjoy before heading in to work.
My favorite smell in the morning is the aroma of coffee. It reminds me of home and comfort. And tastes good, too. I get ready, happy with the progress I’ve made already this morning. I decide to treat the workers with some donuts and stop to buy a couple dozen.
Feeling rather chipper, I get to the company and turn the corner into my office, to see a sight I wished not to see. Just inside the doorway, I look up and drop my bag and boxes of donuts on the floor. Icy tentacles of fear start in my brain and spread, like a cloak over my body.
Charlotte.
Trying not to trip over the items at my feet, I step to the left of the door. My fear turns to full on panic as the shady woman behind my desk pulls a pistol from her purse and aims it at me. She stands from my chair and walks casually to the middle of the office, about three feet to my right.
“Hey, boss,” she yells so loudly that I nearly jump out of my skin. “Get in here!”
No sooner than he appears in the doorway, she shoots him before he can even talk. He falls to the floor on top of the donuts, blood seeping from his belly. He’s gasping for air and coughing spatters of blood. “Oh my god!! What are you doing?” I shout at her.
I’m actually so terrified in this moment that I cover my ears with both hands. My ears ring loudly once the shot rang out so it’s a little hard to hear. But the callous female stands there, laughing about killing her husband. “It’s cheaper than a divorce.”
She aims the gun back at me and my heart jumps to my throat. In fear, I tremble slightly standing before this crazy loon.
“Now, Tamara,” she says in a sinister snarl as she inches closer to me. “I must compliment you on your smarts, but I’m afraid it interferes with my plan. Get over there and give me all the evidence that you have on me or that is related to this debacle.” She laughs again and adds, “Then, I won’t have to kill you.”
I scurry along the wall opposite her to my desk, feigning that I might actually have them. With her gun still on me, I look through a couple of drawers and then stop. “I d-don’t have anything here.” My voice trembles and squeaks when I speak, betraying just how scared I am.
“What?” What do you mean ‘you don’t have them?’” Her snarl is getting more intense, like a growl from a hungry bear that has cornered its prey. “Where are they, Tamara?” she spits the question out through gritted teeth.
“I don’t have them because the police confiscated all of them two days ago,” I say meek as a mouse. I’ve never had a gun aiming at me before and the fear is written all over me. I want to make a break for it, but realize that Charlotte is bigger than me and has a gun. Neither would work for me.
“Two days ago?” she spews the question like its asphalt in her mouth. “And they have everything?”
I nod my head in agreement with this whacked out shamble of a person.
Oxygen thief.
Just then, I see Timothy sneaking out and away from this terrible woman. I didn’t move my eyes to follow him as it would give him away. While Charlotte still has the gun on me, she’s muttering to herself about who knows what.
With my heart beating fast, I wonder what he’s up to and if he’s on her side. That would suck something awful if he’s helping her in some way. I summon the strength to quiet my fears somewhat, looking at Charlotte. Still nervous, I ask, “Since, I don’t have what you’re after, could you please just leave?”
Her face twists into a grotesque image of a desperate person. “You listen here, missy,” she aims her gun and her wicked gaze on me. “I’m the one holding the gun here, not you. I’m the one in charge of this entire place.” She waves the gun through the air in a circle to encompass what is hers. “That includes you and this office.”
“Sure, I understand that, but I want you to leave or I’ll call the police and have you removed,” I say, finding a voice amidst the fear. “You’ve killed the boss, and there is cause to take you out. Even if you’re in charge.”
“Do that,” she glares at me with her eyes dark in some other world, like how a demon takes possession of a person, “And you’ll be dead before they get here.”
“Like him, right?” I sneer, pointing at the boss on the floor. I can sense my fear diminishing, minute by minute. “All you ever did to that man is belittle him and demean him with all of your yelling. And for what? So that you can cheat on him?”
Charlotte gasps at the accusation then laughs maniacally. “Me? Cheat on that poor excuse of a man?” She draws her hand to her chest to act like she’s innocent. “Take it from me honey, he’s better off dead.”
I finally break over the edge of fear and shout at her in anger. “You’re a callous old biddy of a woman, and a bitch of a boss! Most of what you call management consists of making it difficult for employees to get their work done. You’ve topped that list, fucker!”
After spewing my anger at her, I hear sirens. Timothy must’ve called the cops. Charlotte looks at me like a mouse caught in a trap. She fires the gun at me, forcing me back into the wall. I slide down it, leaving a trail of blood smearing the white paint. Then everything fades to black.