Only Way Out

"I do." I repeated the priest's words.

"I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Jeff turned to me, and kissed me lightly on the lips. The crowd behind us started clapping, and we turned to them. I looked at my mother, and tears were rolling down her cheeks as she smiled at me. My father stood next to her; if it were anybody but him, I would have sworn that a tear was in his eye also. We made our way down the aisle, approaching the doors to the outside of the church. As we did, instead of getting brighter and growing larger, the doorway appeared to be getting smaller, and instead of daylight, it seemed as if we were walking toward darkness; a darkness that seemed to glow somehow. As we stepped into the blackness, the clapping of the crowd disappeared, replaced by silence. I turned to look at my boyfriend, no, Jeff was my husband now, I had to remember that, and instead of seeing him in his tuxedo and smiling at me, I saw him unshaven, a crazy look in his eyes and the smell of whiskey on his breath.

I opened my mouth in terror, and saw his hand come to me, almost in slow motion. His hand formed a fist, and was moving toward my face. I tried to protect myself with my arms, but realized it would be too late. As his fist approached, I closed my eyes and opened my mouth to scream . . .

****

I opened my eyes, and the image was gone. I looked around my room, and in the darkness I could see the clock on my nightstand, 3:45 in the morning. I stood, and now wide awake, stepped quietly toward the door. Not wanting to turn on the light -- I opened the door slowly, stubbing my toe. Closing the door behind me, I groped for the light and flicked it on.

I took in the mess that was the living room. Empty whiskey bottles were on the coffee table, along with some empty beer cans. The stereo was still on, some song that I used to know was softly coming through the speakers. Jeff was sprawled out on the couch snoring, his unshaven face seemed like it belonged to a stranger, not my husband of three years.

I walked to the bathroom, turned on the light, and looked at myself in the mirror. I ran my finger softly along the cut next to my eye. As I moved my finger underneath my eye, I twinged, feeling a sharp pain where my skin had turned black from Jeff's fist. Why was I still there? Why haven't I packed what little I had, put Joshua into his car seat and left? I didn't love Jeff anymore, not after what he had done to me over the past three months. I loved the old Jeff with my entire heart, but not the monster he had changed into.

Jeff used to be such a beautiful man. He always made me feel like his princess, always telling me how gorgeous I was, helping me out around the house and always asking for my opinion on everything. When I first met him, I was positive that I had found my knight, and he never did anything to make me think differently. The first year of our marriage was perfect. A handsome responsible man for a husband, and a new baby on the way Everything changed when he lost his job.

I was eight months pregnant at the time, so his layoff couldn't have come at a worse time financially. At the time, we thought it may even have been a blessing in disguise, Jeff could stay home for a couple of months and help me with the baby. It turned out to be the worst thing that ever happened to us.

Josh was born, and Jeff helped me around the house and with the baby. Soon, one month of unemployment turned into two, and we were using the last of our savings just to pay the rent. Jeff was still unable to get a job, so I took the first job I could find, which was at the truck stop.

When Josh was five months old, that was when the unemployment checks stopped. Still unable to find a job, Jeff started drinking. At first it was a couple of beers, then it reached the point that he was almost never sober. One night, he made some remark about how I was probably turning tricks every night at the truck stop for extra tips. I answered him with the first response that popped into my head, that if I was turning tricks, at least I was working and not sitting around the house all day getting drunk. That was the first time he hit me. He ran to me and apologized, but when I shook him off in anger, he pushed me down and hit me again. After a few minutes, he stared at me for a few moments, then ran out the door and tore out of the driveway in his car.

When he returned the next morning, his shirt was stained with lipstick and it smelled like cheap perfume. When I asked him about it, he just ignored me. As I continued to ask him where he was, he stood and hit me again, telling me it was none of my business. Then he announced that he was going to bed. I slept on the couch for the first time that evening, my eyes filled with tears at what had happened.

Since that day, whenever we were together, we argued or ignored each other. Thankfully, we weren't together very often. I usually found other places for Josh and myself to go and other things to do than to be with Jeff.

I had told Jeff that I was going to leave him if he didn't find some help, I even brought home some information for him to look at, but that only made him more furious, his punches coming more often and with more venom. He told me that if I ever left him, he would find me and kill me. If he couldn't have me, then nobody could. I knew I had to find a way out, but I was scared. Scared not only of Jeff and what he might do to me, but scared of raising Josh by myself.

I shut off the light, and returned to my bedroom. I left the door open so I could look at Joshua sleeping in the crib. What kind of life could he expect if I left Jeff; growing up without a father, with a mother who was always working. I took a deep breath and the thought came to me. What kind of life was Josh going to have if I stayed with Jeff? How would Josh feel when he saw his parents yelling at each other, watching his father constantly hitting his mother in anger.

It was at this moment I realized I had to do something. Not for me, but for my baby. I sat on the bed, and tried to think. What could I do? I didn't have enough money to go anywhere. My parents had both died late last year, within months of each other. I didn't have any close friends who I trusted enough to help me out, and even if I did, this was my problem, not theirs.

Then I remembered Ricky. He was a regular customer of mine at the truck stop. Every morning at four he would walk in and sit by himself in an empty booth. At first we just made small talk, but soon I found myself flirting with him, somehow attracted to the danger I saw in him. One night last week, he told me, "Linda, if you ever need anything, anything at all, just ask me. I can take care of any problems you might have."

I remembered smiling at him, and answering "...the only problem I need to have taken care of is my husband." Then I laughed and added, "What would it take to get rid of him?"

Ricky smiled at me with a wicked grin and answered, "For you Linda, just one night."

"One night of what?" I answered with a coquettish smile.

"Use your imagination."

I smiled at him and continued to the next table, not thinking anything of his comments, thinking they were just a flirtation. I had heard some of the other waitresses talking about Ricky, about how he was connected and how dangerous he really was. My boss even told me to stay away from him, that he was nothing but trouble.

I lay back on my bed, and tried to figure out if Ricky was serious with his offer, or if he was just flirting with me. If he was serious, maybe he would help me. I drifted off to sleep hearing his words in my head, "Just one night..."

****

The truck stop was practically empty when Ricky walked to his normal booth. I went to his table and poured him a cup of coffee. "Same as always?" I asked.

"Same as always, Linda. But with a side of you." he answered with a smile, saying the same thing he has told me every night. I smiled at him, scribbled his order on my pad and went to the kitchen. I looked at my other tables -- all empty. I noticed my boss sitting at the counter, and approached him, asking if I could take my break.

"Sure. Why not. Why don't you just get Ricky's order, and then go home. It's slow and Jessica will be in soon."

I punched myself out, grabbed Ricky's food and carried it to his table. Setting it in front of him, I sat down across from him.

"I get company tonight?" he asked.

"It's slow, so I got off early. I have some time to kill, so I figured why not spend it with my favorite customer." My head was spinning, trying to figure out how I was going to find out how serious he was with his offer of help.

Ricky sipped his coffee, looked at me and said, "I wasn't born yesterday, Linda. I know you aren't sitting with me blinded by my good looks."

I giggled and answered, "You should have some confidence. You are far from being ugly. And do I need a reason to sit down with you?" I looked at the man across the table from me, his dark brown hair tied in a ponytail and his cold gray eyes being the only things that made him look any different from a normal nine to five businessman. He wasn't handsome, but he wasn't ugly either.

"No." he answered. "But usually when a beautiful woman wants to talk with me, she has an ulterior motive. And I'm not talking about seduction."

"How do you know I didn't sit with you to seduce you. If I unbuttoned this button on my blouse would that convince you?" I asked as I moved my fingers to the top button of my blouse.

"It would be a start."

I shook my head back and forth with a smile, and opened the button. The middle of my bra was now showing and if I moved he would see the cups of the bra. "There. Convinced that I don't have an ulterior motive?" I asked.

He nodded his head and smiled at me. "It's a start. Let me take a wild guess. Hubby's been neglecting part of his duties, and the friendly mysterious customer will be your first seduction."

I laughed at him, louder than I wanted. When was the last time Jeff and I had made love? It's been so long that I couldn't even remember. "It would be a start." I answered.

"See. You not only want to seduce me, you want a favor in return. I tell you what, Linda. I like you. So I'm going to give you a little advice. Don't mess around with me unless you're serious."

The smile left my face, and I thought of my baby, I felt a twinge around my eye where it was still blue, covered in makeup hiding the mark. "I am completely serious, Ricky."

He looked into my eyes -- deep into my eyes. I wanted to turn away, but made myself return his glare. "We can't talk here." he said, "Go out the door, and if you are really serious, meet me in half an hour, in the parking lot of the Seven-Eleven on the corner of First and Washington. But, only if you are one hundred percent sure that this is what you want, and only if you are completely serious."

I looked into his eyes. Without a word I stood and walked out the door. Once in my car, I started the engine and drove away. Instead of turning right and driving home, I turned left, toward First street. Taking a left turn on First, I drove until I saw a Seven-Eleven. I checked the cross street, making sure that I was at the right one and turned into the parking lot, parking my car under a streetlight.

In ten minutes, I saw a black Corvette pull into the parking lot. I watched as it approached and parked next to me. I looked over and saw Ricky at the wheel, motioning me to join him. I got out, locked my car and sat next to him.

"You're sure about this?" he asked.

"I'm here, ain't I?"

"Let's go for a little drive." he answered. He backed his car up, and pulled onto First Street. He reached for the radio, and turned off the classical music that was playing and looked at me. "I take it you understand what form your payment will be in. One night."

"Yes. I understand."

"I'm fucking crazy for doing this you know. I'm a sucker for blondes with big tits."

I laughed but didn't answer. I didn't know what to say.

"Tell me about your problem. I hear through the grapevine that you have been having some... shall we say, marital problems."

"You could say it that way. If you could call being married to a drunken, lazy slob whose idea of a good time is hitting me in the face."

"Fucking bastard. Any man that lays a hand on a woman doesn't have any balls. Why don't you just leave him?"

I shrugged my shoulders, "It's not that easy, Ricky. I don't have any money... no place to go. And if I did leave him, he's jealous enough to come find me and kill me. It's not like he has anything better to do with his time."

"He's told you that?"

"Whenever I tell him I'm leaving."

"He doesn't have the balls to do it."

"Maybe not, but what am I supposed to do? Look over my shoulder wherever I go. Afraid that he'll be there? I have a son to look out for."

"Understandable. I take it you want Ricky to take care of your problem?"

I nodded.

"Does he have any life insurance?"

"A little, I guess. Maybe five thousand."

"That's all. Bums living on the street have more than that."

"Bums living on the street are worth more than he is." I answered.

He looked at me, then stared at the road, deep in thought. After a few minutes he asked, "How exactly do you want me to take care of him?"

I looked at my ankles. How did I want to take care of Jeff. In the back of my mind, I knew that I wanted him dead, that it was my only way out. Did I really want that? Did I really need that on my conscience?

"I don't care. I just want him out of my life."

"I understand that, Linda sweetie, but what do you want me to do?"

I knew what Ricky wanted from me. He wanted me to tell him that I wanted Jeff dead. I closed my eyes and leaned into the seat of the 'Vette. Taking a deep breath and exhaling, I answered softly, "I want him dead."

"What, Linda? I didn't hear you. You have to speak a little louder sweetie."

I sat up, looked at Ricky and said with a conviction that even surprised me, "I said I want him dead. I want you to kill the asshole."

"That's much better. I can do that for you, no problem. Just make sure that his insurance is paid up. But you do understand what I expect in return for payment, don't you?"

I looked back at my ankles, wondering how that run got there. "Yes. One night... with you."

"I'm fucking crazy, did I tell you that already?"

I smiled and answered, "Yes. You also said that you are a sucker for blondes with big tits."

Ricky laughed loudly, "To tell you the truth, I don't have any idea what we're supposed to do next. I usually don't accept payment until the job's done, but I usually need some sort of deposit before I agree to do the job." He paused for a second, smiled and added, "Tell you what, this is what we're gonna do. Take off your top for me, hell, take off everything, let me get a good look at you, to whet my appetite, so to speak."

I looked at him calmly and asked, "Now? Here?"

"Sure. Why not?"

I nodded my head and laughed, "If that's what you want for a down payment, I guess that's what I'll have to give you."

I looked down at my blouse and stared at a coffee stain. With both hands, I unbuttoned the top button and worked my way down. Once all of the buttons were open, I looked at him and slid the blouse off.

"I don't believe I'm doing this." I said as I unbuttoned the top of my skirt and pulled the zipper down. I lifted myself up off the seat and pulled the skirt off, letting it fall to the floor. I leaned forward, pulled the straps of my bra off my shoulder and pulled my arms through. Pulling the cups down, I looked at Ricky as he glanced at me. I felt the car slow as he pulled over into an empty parking lot.

I moved the hooks of the bra so they were in front and unclasped them. I don't understand why I didn't feel nervous or embarrassed as I stripped for him, but I didn't. In my mind I was stripping for him as payment for what I wanted him to do for me.

I pulled the bra off and tossed it on the floor. Then I lifted my butt up again, and pulled my pantyhose and my panties off together. I tossed them onto the pile of clothes at my feet and turned to him. "What do you think?"

He nodded his head, "Nice."

"As nice as you imagined?"

"Even nicer sweetie. I see a lot of naked women for some reason, lots of strippers and hookers, you have something they don't."

I laughed and asked, "What?"

"I don't know. Class, yeah that's it, class."

"Class?" I answered, "I'm taking off my clothes for you instead of handing you cash, and later I'll fuck you instead of paying you money. How am I different than your typical stripper or whore?"

"It's not what you do, but how you do it. I can't explain the difference, but there is one, trust me."

I smiled at him as he ran his eyes over my body. I opened my legs slightly and raised my right leg higher, turning slightly in my seat. "I take it you find me attractive then."

"Very. The only problem is that I can't see you very good. Get out and dance for me, in front of the car."

"What?"

He laughed and repeated himself, "You heard me, get out, I'll turn on the radio and watch you dance, let me get a good look at you."

"You're fucking crazy. It's freezing out there." I answered.

"I already told you that I'm crazy. What can I say? I have a weakness for blondes with big tits."

I could only nod my head and giggle. I looked down at my naked body, then back at Ricky. I thought about my baby, and I thought about Jeff. Without any hesitation, I opened the door. As I walked naked to the front of the car, the chill of the night hit me, and goose bumps filled my skin and my nipples hardened. But strangely, I was beginning to feel warmer.

The music started, some dance tune that was big now was blaring from the speakers. I tried to move my feet in rhythm with the music and look like I knew what I was doing dancing naked in a parking lot, on a chilly October morning. I couldn't see Ricky in the car, but I felt his eyes on me. I turned and wiggled my ass toward him, and started to feel the rhythm of the music. Turning back to him, I could feel my boobs bounce wildly in the cold air and a kind of energy filled me.

Cupping my breasts with my hands, I shook my upper body and smiled. Moving my hands down my the sides of my stomach and past my hips, I reached them toward the starry sky and turned, shaking my hips to the beat. With my butt to the 'Vette, I bent forward, opening my legs slightly. The cool air hit the warm moistness between my legs and I felt myself relax.

I turned and faced Ricky again, pressing my breasts together with my arms. I opened my legs wider, and ran my fingers along my slit. Gently putting one finger of each hand partially inside my pussy, I spread my labia open, feeling the cool air inside me.

Suddenly, the music stopped and I heard Ricky, "Come on Linda. It's getting late."

I smiled at him, and walked back to the car, the heat of my body radiating in the cool air. As I got in the car and sat next to him, I looked at Ricky and without a word reached my hand between his legs. Feeling his hard cock, I moved my head into his lap as he raised the steering wheel higher. Wordlessly, I opened his jeans and pulled out his cock. I opened my mouth and shoved it between my lips. I moved my head up and down, up and down as fast as I could, sucking lightly on his cock. I sucked harder, moving my head slower, and I could feel him squirm slightly. I knew he was about to come, and wanted him to shoot in my mouth.

As he orgasmed with a loud groan, I swallowed his warm cum as quickly as I could, letting only a little spill out. I sat up, smiled and licked my lips.

"That was a nice down payment." he sighed as he leaned into the drivers seat and closed his eyes.

"My pleasure, Ricky."

Ricky started the car and I started to pull on my clothes. We drove in silence and as we arrived at the Seven-Eleven, I was just finishing buttoning my blouse.

He parked next to my car and said, "Just act normal, and something will happen soon. Remember to act heartbroken when it does."

I got into my car and drove home. I would be a few minutes late, but Jeff would be passed out on the couch by now. All I had to do was feed Josh and try to calm myself down.

****

I was working at the truck stop when I found out about it. Somebody had broken into our house in the middle of the night. There had been a struggle and Jeff was shot three times. By the time the police got there, he was already dead. Josh was still sleeping in the crib when they arrived. When I pulled into the driveway, Josh was being held by a policewoman inside a cruiser, happily suckling on a bottle of formula. I remembered to act mournful -- a part of me actually was sad, as I remembered the good times that Jeff and I had before he changed.

Tears rolled down my cheeks as I identified his lifeless body for the police. They explained to me that I would need to sleep someplace else for the night, maybe two, as they searched the house for evidence. I explained that I had no place to stay. The officer in charge disappeared into his car, and in a few moments another officer drove me to a shelter for battered women. The tears that were falling down my face were real, as I began to doubt if I had done the right thing.

As I entered the building, the tears still running down my face, I held Josh tightly as the officer explained the situation to the woman running the shelter. She nodded her head and approached me.

"You've had a hard night, honey. You need to get some rest. Let me show the two of you to a room. If you need anything, just dial zero on the telephone. Do you want somebody to take care of the baby for you?"

I told her that I wanted, no, needed Josh to be with me. She gave me a warm friendly look as she told me to follow her.

As we walked through the shelter, I saw some women that had been beaten worse than I had been, their faces bruised and battered beyond belief. There were children there also; one had bruises covering his entire face, and his arm was in a cast. He couldn't have been more than ten years old. I asked if he had been beaten, and the lady explained to me that he had. His father was in jail at the moment, but they were afraid that he would be set free soon. His mother was still in the hospital, and even though she had been through everything twice before, she kept returning to the bastard.

The boy smiled at me, and at that moment, I knew I had done the right thing. Nobody would ever do that to my son. Nobody. Never.

The woman left us in our room, and I sat on the bed, tears still falling, but felt a peace wash over me as Josh crawled around the room playing with a couple of small toys that I had stuffed into the diaper bag.

****

I stayed at the shelter for a few days, and the police finished their investigation, calling Jeff's death a homicide. They figured that someone broke into the house, thinking nobody was home, to steal any valuables that we might have. Jeff awoke and tried to fight them off. After a short struggle, Jeff was shot three times, dying almost instantly. There wasn't any physical evidence of any use at the house, so they closed that part of the investigation. I was free to return home.

I took Josh home that night, and the memory of Jeff as he was in the last few months overwhelmed me. Everything in the place reminded me of Jeff, not the man I fell in love with and married, but the Jeff that had hurt me. I looked at the apartment, it was cleaner than it had been in months -- a slight smell of ammonia in the air. I placed Josh in his crib and felt tears running down my face. Josh looked at me with bright eyes, and spoke his first word, "Mamma." he said.

I laughed and picked him up, falling back onto the bed, holding him above me. We played for hours, just the two of us, Joshua finally falling asleep with a smile on his face. I held him against me as I closed my eyes in exhaustion and drifted to sleep.

**** "I do." I repeated the Father's words.

I turned, knowing that Jeff was gone. Instead of Jeff's face, I saw Josh's face smiling back at me. I turned back to the clapping crowd, and saw my mother crying tears of joy. My father was crying also and they motioned for me to come to them. I did and I could feel their thoughts. They were happy for me and told me to take care of their grandson.

I looked toward the door of the church, and saw a bright white light that grew brighter with every second. Soon the entire church was bathed in this intense bright glow, and I looked at Josh in my arms, seeing him smile back at me, "Mamma." I heard him say.

****

I returned to work in a few days, after finding a day care center for Josh. I was woried about how I was going to pay for the day care, but the center had volunteered their services after the tragedy.

I was now working the morning shift, and the tips were much better, if only for the amount of customers I had. I was just getting used to working mornings, when Ricky walked in one day. He sat at his usual table, and I approached him with a smile.

"Same as always?" I asked.

"You got it, sweetie. With a side of you." he laughed.

"Just tell me when."

He motioned for me to come closer to him, and as I did, he whispered in my ear,"After I saw that dump you lived in, and that so called man that was your husband, I decided to do the job for free, for now, as a favor to my favorite waitress. But some day, could be tomorrow, could be next week, could be in ten years. I will expect some kind of payment."

I stood and laughed, "Any day Ricky. Any day Ricky."

I brought Ricky his food, and made my rounds. When I looked back at Ricky's booth, he was gone. I walked to the booth, and underneath a glass of water, I saw a plain white envelope with my name written on it. I stuffed it into my apron and continued working.

When my shift was finally over, I walked to my car and turned on the engine. As it idled, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the envelope. Looking inside, I saw a bunch of hundred dollar bills and a note. I counted the bills, fifty of them, and read the note.

"If you ever need any more help. Just ask. I'll keep in touch. R. P.S. What can I say, I have a weakness for blondes with big tits."

I smiled, stuffing the envelope into my pocket and drove to the day care center to pick up Josh. For the first time in months, I felt secure; everything would be better now. I knew it would be hard raising Josh by myself, but I was positive that I had done the right thing. It was the only way out for the two of us.

****

End



Note: This story is a little dark. I need to make a few important statements about it .

Number one, I am NOT a battered wife. My husband is a very kind, loving and gentle man. I do know some women who have husbands that beat them. I tried to put myself in their shoes when I wrote this story.

Number two, I DO NOT condone what Linda did in this story. Murder was not the only way out for her. If any woman is being beaten by her husband, there are many places she can turn for help. A quick search on any search engine will bring up many appropriate links.

Number three, if any men out there that read my stories also beat their wives -- Stop! Any man that hits a woman or a child is something less than a man.

Number four, I promise that my next story will be a light and sexy romp. I have a few stories in various stages of completion, and all of them are lighter than "Only Way Out" and "Partners." I am trying to grow as a writer and try different things. I realize that my lighter stories like "Every Girl Has Her Price" and "A Sexy Story" are the kinds of stories that most of you like. Try to be patient with me as I grow and experiment as a writer.