Never Let Go

Never Let Go

A Chapter by Cherrie Palmer

We walked the house going room to room. "Everything in order?"

I ignored Greg's question. “I’m telling you something's going on.” My lips pressed together, as I stewed.

“It looks fine to me.” His voice was apologetic, the tone you’d take with a child. He lightly touched my shoulder.

 

“What about the coffee?” I demanded.

 

"Just like you said, maybe someone came by for a visit.”

 

I stormed to the microwave with a flair for the dramatic and pointed. “What about the missing burrito?” To further express my point, I hit the open button and stuck out my chin. There it sat. Rage consumed me. “I’m telling you it wasn’t there. Greg, you know me better than anyone!” Burning tears filled my eye as I stared at that blue plate holding my burrito.

 

“I’ve got to get back. We’re training a new deputy. I’ll drive by later tonight, dear. I'll give the place a good once over. You need to give yourself some time.”

 

“Please, you know me better than this.” The desperate plea in my voice made me furious at myself.

“Lock the door and try and relax. It's probably some kid messing around.”

“Okay, fine, we’ve done a walk-thru. Locked windows and doors, I’ll play along.” Again, my lips pressed hard together. Of all people, I didn’t want to be mad at Greg. The word livid didn't describe this red hot fire I felt.

“Come on, see it my way.” He pointed at the microwave.

I threw my hand up in protest."Don't." My voice cool and tension-filled.

“Okay, I’ll give you a drive-by around eleven.” He winked, I nodded, with a blank expression that masked my feelings.

“Thank you, for coming over so fast,” I said flatly.

 

“Listen, dear, I’m not saying ‘something’ didn’t happen. I’m telling you everything around here looks in order.” I continued to shake my head as we both headed for the front door. “Lock-up, and I’ll be back.”

 

“You bet.” Then I watched him drive off. I wanted to ask him to stay, but my pride kept me from it. We should have married last year. We wanted to wait till his daughter graduated. We’d been an unspoken secret for far too long. Hard to change our habits at this late date.

 

I locked-up, and returned to the microwave, to that damn burrito. With an embittered smile I sent it down the garbage disposal.  “Hum, return from that, why don’t ya.” With that done I went to bed.

 

 If Greg had swung-by, I never heard him. I slept till morning. Surprising enough I woke-up feeling great. I went through the house and turned all the lights off. Cooked a beautiful omelet and took my time drinking a cup of coffee. It felt good to be back home.

 

Then I headed to the barn, where a three-year-old gelding waited for his lessons. I tied him to a post, while I took care of chores. He needed a little more work not to mention patience and some manners. So, I fed him last.  I spent the day working with Blaze. His progress made me happy. I enjoyed watching him grow a little each day. For a reward, I took him out for a ride down to the river. Blaze's cool gray coat stood in contrast to the day. A rabbit stared me down as I passed. Blaze followed the fence as crickets sang. Horses, like people, listen better when they have trust. His ears twisted lightly as he trotted down a wild game path. The scent of pines filled my nostrils. It was a good day.

  

 I drove the truck to town, picked up a six-pack and two steaks. Sent Greg a text.  “How about dinner, my place 7’ish.” Then returned to the house.

 

A steaming hot shower washed all my fears down the drain. I hated to admit it but life with no Jason in it made me feel better. Happier, stronger even. He had been a terrible little man, that I had run-ins with for years. He cheated on my sister and stole from the Police fund. I hated thinking it, but I was glad.

 

I slipped on a dress and fixed my hair and make-up. Once finished I headed to the kitchen. Then started a salad, made my famous spicy salsa dressing and set the table for two. I smiled at the distant sound of chimes singing in the distance. The sound was clear and full and made me smile.

 

For no real reason, I walked into the living room. The front door stood wide open. My heart sank. I stormed to the gun safe to remove my 12 gauge. I locked the door and began to sweep each room.  Nothing, nothing out of place. I pondered the possibilities.

 

“Okay, it’s simple,” I said but I would not allow myself to say what I was thinking, as ghostly images danced in my head.

 

I placed the shotgun on the TV and waited. The clock on the wall told me it was ten till seven.  I made myself start the steaks. Once finished I covered them letting the meat rest. Greg text. “Running late.”

 

“k” is all I text back. Knowing what that meant I went to put on my jeans and check my livestock.  As I passed by the coffee table I picked up the letter. The one I had put off reading.

 

You’re a killer. Is all it said, in bold red letters. The roller-coaster of emotions put me in a dark and lonely place once again. There it was the cold-hard fact. The one that I had dressed up, printed in red. Stripped down to that one simple truth. I mumbled under my breath. With my good hand, I wadded it up and tossed it in the trash and lit another Winston. His Winston’s. I drew in a deep breath and held it. I considered the facts and tried to reason it out.

 

I got a Corona and set outside. Nervously I twirled the cigarette in my hand.  With my eyes shut, I began to consider all the facts. Someone is here. I was certain. It was, his uncle. I decided to go in and call Greg. I turned to face my doorway. There he stood. Jason’s uncle raised a .22 Ruger. Not mine, but a gun just like it.

 

“An eye for an eye.” He exclaimed. The gun pointed at my head. No need to engage in a debate. I closed my eyes and waited. The boom was thunderous. I felt the speed of the bullet rush passed me. I could hear the impact. I spun on my heels. “Greg!” I shouted. The uncle fell to the floor.

Greg threw his arms out for me and promised to never let go.

 



© 2018 Cherrie Palmer


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Reviews

This is a very well-crafted story. Usually I don’t read a multi-chapter piece in one sitting. I like to spread my time around for a wide variety of writers on this website. But your story is compelling & easy to read, so I just kept going, read all the chapters in a row. I get an overall muted tone thru-out, since there aren’t any dramatic points -- even a killing is understated and almost imperceptible as being any kind of big deal. It’s like the narrator has an extreme case of being laced up very tightly. I don’t like overly dramatic writing, but this feels a little too subdued for the storyline. Still, the style you use works well & is seamlessly put together in a believable way (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

This review was written for a previous version of this writing

Posted 5 Years Ago


Cherrie Palmer

5 Years Ago

Thank you Margie, I have working on this story all week and hope to update in a day or two. I reall.. read more
A thrilling and climactic chapter ... Yet, somehow, I sense the end of this ladies trouble are not quite over ... Looking forward to what your imagination pens next ...

This review was written for a previous version of this writing

Posted 6 Years Ago



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Added on April 6, 2017
Last Updated on May 25, 2018


Author

Cherrie Palmer
Cherrie Palmer

Oakland, AR



About
I am a published poet and love poetry. I live near the White River, and love trout fishing. I find my surroundings a great inspiration to me. I also have two books on Amazon Kindle: Obsession Starts.. more..

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