Slip of the Tongue

"Not that I can really blame you, but I thought you were going to wait. She really is distraught. I'm sure after this shock she would never look at another man again. Do you think there is any possible hope for you two if you go to counseling?" She asked me, hopefully.

I shook my head. "I was pretty sure there was no way forward for us as a couple, but this seals it." I handed her a copy of the paternity test. "The baby is not mine. So unless she was also seeing somebody else, Clive Adams is the father. She needs to make him pay support." Toni stared at the envelope and began to cry. She was heartbroken. She finally realized her hopes and dreams had been dashed. After a final hug, she turned to break the news to her daughter.

I'd already told my own mother the news. She was terribly upset to not be a grandmother. She'd decided to stay home until I got the DNA results. She was too angry with Susan's cheating to stay with Toni and Susan. She was another of Susan's and Clive's victims.

The subject of Clive Adams' escapades with married women became a topic around town the next few days. Once Steve, Larry and Don and I confronted our wives, we made no secret of who the bastard was. In fact we went out of our way to expose him. While none of us liked being known as cuckolds, we stood tall and let one and all know about our wives falling victim to the lecherous bastard's lines.

As it turned out it seems he had only needed to use his winning sales pitch of revealing the identities of previous women with Cheryl. The other women simply fell for his gift of gab. Whatever their issues were, they accepted Clive's approach and apparently enjoyed what he offered all while supposedly happily married.

Once his activities became well known, fathers of babies born to women who knew him at all demanded paternity tests. I later heard of two other babies that he had sired. Other men who had the barest suspicion their wives might have stepped out, grilled their wives about their activities. Several couples began counseling.

The full extent of his activities was not revealed until Clive Adams himself made it known. And he did that to the police themselves.

You'd have thought that a man living the lifestyle Clive had chosen would have kept his assets liquid in case he had to relocate in a hurry. But instead of putting his higher than average income into cash, stocks, bonds and other easily transferable forms, he bought a house and invested in multiple pieces of real estate. Even his household furnishings were lavish. He had decent pieces of art adorning his walls along with the typical collection of hunting and fishing gear normally found in our area. His boat was rigged for water skiing as well as fishing.

Of course law enforcement would not have bothered, but even if he could have liquidated his assets and ran, he could still have been traced and hunted down by private investigators. It is difficult to completely hide when your social security number is required for any high income, non cash only employment no matter how far you run geographically.

Clive may have not realized the danger. He obviously underestimated the wrath of the husbands he cuckolded. He did not bother to immediately leave the area and paid the price.

Only a few days after his affairs became public knowledge, he was found naked on the sidewalk in front of his house by an early morning jogger. He was in shock, moaning and barely conscious.

The jogger called for emergency services immediately. She had nothing to cut the zip-ties that kept Clive's hands behind his back. Clive screamed when the jogger tried to turn him over. The jogger would not have wanted to see what was revealed if she had been successful.

The EMT's found Clive's left testicle had been crushed as had most of his penis. The steel wire twisted tightly to band his penis at the base was the only thing that kept Clive from bleeding to death. Investigation found a broken and half crushed brick in his kitchen. Forensic testing determined the round marks on what remained of the brick were from a three pound sledge.

I learned this from Larry the cop at the bar. He happily but at the same time, solemnly explained to Steve, Don and me how he'd been told by two detectives that if he had a three pound hammer that might have unexplained tissue embedded, to get rid of that same tool. To drop it into the swamp.

"Now I had nothing to do with pounding the asshole's cock into mush, but I am passing along the advice my fellow cops gave me." Larry stated with a barely concealed grin and a big wink.

Clive had no idea who had assaulted him. He vaguely remembered answering his doorbell. Whether it was late the night before or possibly that morning he could not remember. It was dark and he had been asleep.

"They used a stun gun, I guess." Clive recalled, when he woke up. "They shocked my scrotum a few times. I remember that. I think there were two guys, but I'm not sure. I was pretty out of it. One said I'd never go after another married woman. After that, all I felt was pain in my groin and nothing else."

Clive was understandably upset his penis had been destroyed and wanted the guilty party arrested and convicted. To that effort, he told the investigators the names of every woman with whom he had sexual contact over the past few years. Some were married but some were single with boyfriends. The list was surprisingly long.

Having so many names to check out only muddied the water for the investigators. Although there were many suspects, there was no evidence to implicate anyone specifically. Because of the possible hour of the attack, nobody had a good alibi either. Larry told Steve and me privately, the investigating detectives felt Clive Adams got his just desserts. After few months, the investigation eventually stalled.

As expected, Susan got half our community property. The house was sold and some other family got to move their little girl into the nursery I had so carefully painted. I hoped she enjoyed my painstaking artwork of little animals on the walls.

Susan moved back into her mother's home because she couldn't handle taking care of the baby on her own. At least living with Toni she would not be lonely. But I had no idea what she did for sex, nor did I care.

She did phone me once to say she was sorry. I surmised Toni had jumped her about that. She did not not elaborate what she was sorry about. Whether it was for cheating, for getting pregnant by another man, or for my finding out and divorcing her. I did not ask. I was beyond it at that point. When she asked if we could get together to talk, I simply said no.

She did ask if I'd heard what happened to Clive and then asked if I had anything to do with it. I simply told her he deserved it and I hung up. From that point on we never talked again and everything was handled by the lawyers.

I wondered how much of her money would be wasted trying to sue Clive for child support. He would not voluntarily pay. Eventually she'd get the support of course, but having to pay a lawyer to pursue it would dip into her savings.

Clive was facing multiple such suits and I heard liens were in place to keep him from liquidating his real estate assets. Between his own medical bills, lawyer fees, and impending child support, he would not have much to live on. And that was if he managed to keep his job.

18 months later:

It was three in the morning when I leaned against the lower rail of the Econ 626 rig in the Gulf of Mexico. The fall wind was brisk and cool but my light windbreaker was enough to keep me comfortable.

This was going to be one of my last regular trips to the rigs. I'd met a woman and decided she was worth pursuing. We got along great. I had no idea if our relationship would go anywhere, but I was now in the mindset to consider the possibility. It was time to accept the position I'd been offered and turned down twice at headquarters.

I unzipped my light jacket and touched the lump hanging over my belt. I had no idea why I'd held onto it for so long. I'd tried to throw it away several times but never did. The risk of keeping it was too great and totally irrational but somehow holding it made me feel better. Like I'd taken my own back.

Before I could consider it any more, I pulled the heavy hammer out of its concealment and dropped it into the sea.