Double Trouble

Those first few months living together were bliss. Her parents loved me. My parents adored her. My sisters? By the time we lived together, I was twenty-three, they were eighteen. And they didn't like Simone. I was visiting the folks one weekend, Simone visiting her parents and siblings at hers, when they told me how they really felt.

"I've seen girls like her at school, Mark," Cindy stated, "She acts all innocent round you, but we've seen her type."

"What are you saying, Cindy?" My twin sisters shared a look. At eighteen, they had turned into beautiful young woman, younger versions of our mother. When they looked sad, I took a hand of theirs in mine. "You know you two can tell me absolutely anything."

"We don't trust her, Mark, and we just don't want you to get hurt," Cindy replied.

"She's done nothing to prove untrustworthy. I love her and she loves me." I pulled them into a hug. "I'm not going to say you're jealous, because you're my little sisters, but are you afraid of losing me?"

They both started to sob so I knew what it was about. "We miss you so much," Danielle whispered.

I hated when my sisters cried. I hated knowing I was breaking their hearts. And hearing them both sob as I hugged them nearly had my own tears falling. I kissed them both on the cheek. "I'm only a phone call away, and I try and visit as often as I can. But Simone will soon be part of our family too."

"Are you going to propose?"

When I nodded, Cindy pushed me away and ran to her bedroom. I called her name but she ignored me. Danielle gave me a sad smile before she followed her sister. Mum wandered out of the kitchen to find me kneeling on the floor by myself near the lounge. She helped me up and hugged me tight. Had to release a couple of tears.

"I hate hurting them so much but I love her, Mum. I'm going to marry her."

"They'll get over it, but your father and I know how they feel. They've been jealous the day you brought her home for the first time. They had you to themselves all their lives. Now they have to share you with someone." She leaned back and grinned. "When are you going to propose?"

"Our anniversary is next month. I'm figuring we get engaged that day, then we get married six months after that, therefore we can remember two anniversaries. She'll love that."

"My son is an old fashioned romantic."

"I do my best."

Simone accepted my proposal. I didn't particularly want to go with the old 'propose in a restaurant' thing, but we'd already talked about getting married so often, I knew she wasn't going to say no. Instead, she screamed 'YES!' and cried as I slid the ring on her finger. The sex we had that night left me so drained, I asked for an IV bag the next morning, which left her in fits of giggles.

Her parents and mine were delighted to hear of our engagement. I'd even been old-fashioned enough to ask for her hand. He replied, stating he'd be proud to call me his son-in-law. Then he hugged me and welcomed me to the family. His older brother gave me the usual speech that any older brother did. I'd done the same thing to the first boyfriend for each of my twin sister, warning them that if they broke their hearts, I'd break them. Her younger sister giggled and I knew she had a crush on me too.

We had agreed to keep our ceremony and reception small and simple, focused more on our future rather than splurging on just one day. Neither of us was religious, so we avoided a church wedding, with all the bells and whistles that entailed. It was a lovely spring day when we married. Her father walked her down the aisle. Simone was resplendent in her white dress. Mike was my best man, her young sister maid of honour. To my surprise, my twin sisters accepted the chance to be bridesmaids. They smiled throughout the day, but I could read their eyes. I could see the heartbreak.

The reception was fantastic. We danced and ensured we stayed sober so we could consummate our marriage that evening. In fact, we were upstairs in the hotel a good couple of hours before the reception was supposed to finish. I received more than one sarcastic question the next morning about where my wife and I had disappeared to earlier the previous evening.

Within a year, we'd put in an offer for a small three bedroom townhouse as she smiled at me, suggesting that within a couple of years, perhaps we could start filling the two spare rooms with little people. We were both making good money. I was now managing the mechanics workshop I'd started at, having completed night classes in management and administration. She was making progress as a real estate agent, our dual wages meaning we lived comfortably but not extravagantly, not that either of us worried about that. Our honeymoon had been a week on a Pacific island, soaking in sea, sun and a lot of sex.

I just had no idea that my life would implode within a few short years. My twin sisters had been right.

*****

Naturally, being the soul she was, Simone had a lot of friends, both male and female. I wasn't one of those knuckle-draggers who thought men and women couldn't be friends. I had a couple of female friends, not my sisters, who had been close to me for nearly two decades. One of her best friends was male, bloke by the name of Brian. He was a good guy. He certainly didn't treat me badly. Never showed any indication of being attracted to her. They'd been friends for years and I had no problem with it.

It was only a couple of weeks after my birthday that my life crumbled. I'd been feeling under the weather for a few days. I'd gone into work, but by the Wednesday, I was still feeling rough so I told the guys I'd be going home early.

Arriving home, I would have pulled up in the driveway, but my wife's car was there in the garage, the door still open. My immediate concern was that there were two others. Two cars I recognised rather well. One was of her best friend. Okay, no concern just yet. Maybe they were having lunch. I almost laughed at the thought, hoping it was innocent. But the fact the car of my best friend was also there hurt immediately. He had little to do with Simone. He was also married himself, six months earlier.

Opening the front door, it was almost silent except for sounds coming from upstairs. I recognised them immediately. I was a keen golfer and cricketer, keeping my clubs and cricket bat near the front door. Grabbing the bat, I headed upstairs with my bat in one hand, phone in the other, ready to record. I recorded for around thirty seconds before I snapped a few pictures. There was no doubt my wife was being fucked in both holes by her best friend and mine, leaving her mouth free to make plenty of noise.

Having recorded and snapped what was necessary, I strode in and aimed. My aim was perfect as the bat slammed into the balls of my best friend. He howled as he sat back, turning just in time to see the bat swing into his face. It was a sickening crunch, knocking him out as he fell onto the floor.

Simone screamed, leaping off her best friend. He noticed me just in time to shout, 'Oh shit!' as the bat came down right on his cock and balls. Good chance he wouldn't be getting hard anytime soon, slamming the bat into him a few times for good measure. Didn't quite knock him out, but he was crying and whimpering the entire time.

I stood there for a moment, feeling the adrenaline and rage coursing through my veins. I was on the verge of putting the bat through both their heads and just ending them, but that voice in the back of my head suggested I didn't want to go down for murder. Not for this skank. My future ex-wife wouldn't shut up. I would have aimed the bat at her next, but that alone would get me in a world of trouble, so I threw that against whatever was on top of the dresser. The only thing that stopped me from smacking her was that I wasn't a wife beater. I held out my hand. "Rings, bitch," I growled.

She held her hand to her chest. "No! We're married."

I stepped over an unconscious Mike and towered over her before leaning down. She fought me for a few seconds before she gave up. I grabbed her wrist, gently as not to leave a bruise, and easily took off her wedding and engagement rings. That told me everything, the fact she'd taken them off often. She started to sob as I stepped back to survey the carnage. The end of a marriage. The end of a friendship. I knew I was in deep shit, but feeling how I was in that moment, I didn't care what happened. Grabbing a bag, I packed a few things, looking far more calm than I felt. Heading to the bathroom, I dropped the rings in the toilet and flushed.

"And that's the end of that," I whispered.

Before I left, I called up my sisters. They lived together in an apartment. Cindy picked up, offering a cheery hello. She immediately asked me what was wrong when she heard my tone.

"You were right. Simone's been cheating on me."

"Come here right now, Mark. What did you do?"

"Well, neither of them will be having sex for a while. I haven't touched her, though right now..."

"We know you're not like that, and so do you. Leave now, Mark. We'll look after you."

Heading downstairs, I hopped straight into my car and took off. Half an hour later, thanks to traffic, I was parking outside the apartment block, not surprised they were waiting downstairs for me to arrive. After hugging me, they led me upstairs, ensuring I was sat down before offering me a beer. Asking if I had evidence, I showed them the film and pictures I had. I sent them everything as I knew I was in trouble.

I wasn't surprised that the police knocked at the door later that evening. Cindy answered the door, a pair of coppers walking in, standing before me. They introduced themselves before asking, "Are you Mark Johnson?"

"I am."

"Husband to Simone Johnson?"

"I am."

"Can you explain your whereabouts at around 2pm this afternoon?"

"Sure. I finished work early so I went home. I walked inside to the sounds of people having a good time. Heading upstairs, I found my wife fornicating with two men who were not their husband. After recording video and taking pictures, I departed and came here to visit my sisters as I discussed what I'd do next."

They knew I was bullshitting. "Mister Johnson, would you care to accompany us to the police station?"

"Am I under arrest?"

"Not at the moment but we would like you to join us for questioning."

Luckily a good friend of mine was a lawyer so I asked if I could call him. Seeing I was being cooperative, they nodded as I made the call, asking for him to meet me at Parramatta Police Station. Standing up, Cindy told me that she'd call our parents. Following the coppers outside, I slid into the rear seat, making sure I was buckled up, before they drove me to the cop shop

I was signed in and placed in a cell, telling me they'd question me once my lawyer was present. I was smart enough not to answer questions without one present. Not through experience, I was relying what I'd seen on television. The line between fact and fiction was sometimes thin.

They grilled me for a couple of hours. The only thing I lied about was smacking the two men. I'd flushed the rings, smart enough not to have kept her rings on my person, though I did hold up my left hand to show I still wore mine. When they mentioned her rings were missing, I just smiled and suggested she'd probably lost them while she was cheating on me.

"Look, all I know is that I entered my home to find my wife with two other men. I took video, took some photos, and after packing a bag, I departed to go visit my sisters."

I had no idea if they were going to immediately charge me or not. I was allowed to make a call, so I called one of the supervisors, letting them know I wouldn't be at work for a couple of days. I was detained for a couple of days as they made their enquiries. On the Friday, the door was opened, the copper stating my wife was there to visit.

"Don't want to see her," I stated, "Tell her to fuck off for me."

Having heard that I'd walked into my house to see my wife cheating, he nodded and shut the door. No idea how she reacted and I didn't really care. I was released on Saturday afternoon. I wasn't charged yet but the police made me surrender my passport and told me not to leave the state, and that their enquiries would continue.

Cindy and Danielle picked me up, both of them hugging me. My parents were there too, as my sisters had told them the whole story. Returning to their apartment, we gathered around the dining room table, each of us with a mug of coffee or tea. My father finally asked, "Did you do it?"

"Fucking oath I did it, Dad."

He nodded in understanding. "Okay. No-one at this table blames you, Mark. You walked into something that no husband wants to discover. Did you have any idea?"

"None whatsoever, but I was left thinking it wasn't the first time she's fucked either of them."

"I sent the pictures and video to his wife," Danielle stated, "I assume he won't have a home to return to. She messaged me back, thanking me. She passed on her best wishes to you too."

"Do you think they'll charge you?" Dad wondered.

"It's circumstantial. A 'he said, they said'. My lawyer can easily point out that the three can easily band together and make up a story. Do I have motive? Sure. Can they prove it? I guess we'll wait and see. Any magistrate will take into account the fact I walked into seeing my wife being... Well, I'm sure they'd take that into consideration, but I'll still do time for the fact I fucked them both up."

"We'll be telling the police you arrived at our place at least an hour before you actually did," Cindy said, "Dani and I will do anything to protect our big brother from that whore."

They were sitting either side of me, wrapping an arm around each, leaving a kiss on each forehead. "Thanks. But I think we should all prepare for this to go somewhere. They'll do their enquiries, and they will eventually charge me. I will also ensure I move my shit out of home to ensure we're separated. As soon as it hits twelve months, I'll file for divorce. Could be in jail by then but so be it."

My sisters cuddled into me tighter. "Hopefully you won't," Cindy whispered.

"Look, I know what I did with a clear mind. I wanted to hurt them both, and the only thing that stopped me doing anything to her is that I don't attack women and there's still that part of me which loves her. But after seeing what I did, there's no chance of reconciliation. With any luck, she'll file for divorce first. The only asset we have is the house along with a little savings. I'm just glad we don't have kids."

I heard through the grapevine of the damage I'd done. Mike had a smashed jaw, meaning he'd be sucking food through a straw for a while, and his groin region would require specialist treatment. His wife threw him out of the house the day he returned home from hospital. As for Brian, I'd broken a couple of ribs, his kidneys were not in a good condition, and he also had issues with his testicles.

My sisters pretty much demanded I remain with them, Cindy moving to share her room with Danielle. I told them I could just crash on the couch. To say they both stared me down into agreeing wouldn't be far from the truth. "What about, you know, dating and stuff?" I asked.

"You're more important right now," Cindy replied.

"Our big brother is hurting and we're going to look after him," Danielle added.

I returned to work though talked to the head office and explained what happened and the chances of me being charged. Summoned into headquarters, I ended up chatting with the head of my regional area. What surprised me is that I was promised, even if I was sent to the slammer, my position would be retained. Expressing surprise at that, he confessed something.

"I did a year when I was nineteen for something very stupid. We're a company that has no problem hiring ex-convicts, as long as your record remains clean going forward, you don't do drugs and you show up every day and work. You've been with us for a decade now, Mark. You were looking at a potential move up the chain. Going to prison will impact that for a while, but even the head honchos know your name. You've been honest with me so far. Did you do it?"

"I did," I replied with a nod.

"How will you plead?"

"Not guilty. The evidence they'll gather will be circumstantial at best. Being honest? I reckon I'll get a couple of years. Three people will claim I was there and attacked two of them. Do you blame me for how I reacted?"

"I think a lot of men would have done the same thing. A few probably would have killed all three of them in a 'crime of passion'. Guess no-one knows how they'll react to something until it actually happens to them."

I returned to work and kept to myself otherwise. I spent most weekends either with my sisters or my parents. Friends did get in touch, asking for my version of events. I was honest about everything except beating up on Mike and Brian. Anyone who wanted evidence was given it. Even friends of Simone expressed shock at what she was doing and apologised.

The good times didn't last. The cops eventually knocked on the door one afternoon after I'd arrived home from work. Opening the door, they didn't even have to say anything. I turned around with my hands behind my back. There is no such thing as 'Miranda Rights' in Australia, I was just cautioned about any statements I made before I was taken off to the police station yet again.

Booked into the cop shop a second time, my lawyer was summoned and I was interviewed again. I was informed that both Michael Jones and Brian Taylor had made formal allegations against me, and with the enquiries already raised, it was agreed that I would be charged with 'Assault Occasioning Actual Bodily Harm'. I was remanded in custody until I would face a Magistrates Court. I thought it would go higher, considering the charge. I was surprised that I was given bail. It wasn't cheap, but my parents and sisters put up the money immediately. I only spent another couple of days in the cells.

The only reason I did eventually tell the truth is that I got a great deal of joy from telling the story on the stand, plus I didn't want to be charged and convicted for perjury, which came with a maximum sentence of ten years. Thankfully, the prosecutor didn't try and paint me as some sort of thug but did state that it was an extreme case of violence.

Mike was called to the stand first. Under questioning from both sides, he explained how we'd been lifelong friends, best man at each other's wedding, the type of mates where, if we were broke and someone had five bucks in their pocket, they wouldn't hesitate in handing it over. He knew why I'd attacked him, the fact he was fucking my wife. Accused her of coming onto him, the fact she was nothing but a slut, that she'd been fucking around for half our marriage. He admitted it had been going on for a few months, starting before he got married. There was commotion behind as his wife leapt to her feet and called him a bastard.

"I'm sorry, Mark," he said, and the tears looked genuine, "We all ruined everything. I know it'll never be the same, but I hope that, one day, you might find it in your heart to forgive me."

I stayed silent as he walked away from the stand. It was only when he was next to our table that I said, "Mike." He turned to look at me. "She came onto you?" He nodded. "You could have said no, you know?"

"She was relentless, mate. She was flirting with me hard before you even married. I thought nothing of it because I was happily with my girlfriend but..." He trailed off and shrugged.

"Give it time, Mike. When I'm out of prison... But you're right, it'll never be the same. The trust is gone. You'll be lucky to be an acquaintance at best."

Brian was next. He was a little bit more of a smug prick. Kind of wish I'd done more to him, now that I thought about it. Always wondered if he was hanging around for his chance to slip it into my wife. He'd actually been sleeping with her even longer, and she'd lied about never having slept with him before, as she'd fucked him for a while before I started dating her, and she kept on fucking him until we were serious.