The Hotwife Games Ch. 23

"Run!" she screamed to Rakesh. "Call them here! Security — the cops — get help! Whoever!"

She scrambled backwards as Gael doubled over, clutching at a crotch that now ached as profusely as his other wounds. His cock was bleeding.

But he was still a massively built man with a crazed streak, and, gun or no gun, Diana knew he was a dangerous quantity to contend with.

Gael's body seared with pain.

He looked up in shock. His heart, broken anew, pained worse.

Close behind Diana, Rakesh's voice sounded up against the battering rain.

"We don't need help," Rakesh said flatly.

Diana turned from her crouch on the floor. Gael looked up.

Rakesh held the pistol in his right hand. It was pointed at Gael.

Tropical rain cascaded over the banker's grim expression. Diana felt a cold shiver slip down her spine as she beheld her husband's eyes.

A million impressions collected and dispersed across Gael's distorted features. The stabbing realization of Diana's betrayal... the wan comprehension that the shoe was now firmly on the other foot... and a sudden, cowering desperation to live...

He straightened up and held his hands pleadingly to Rakesh.

"Wait — wai—"

BRAM!

The gunshot crashed in the rainy air and time stood still.

Gael was stunned.

Rakesh squeezed the trigger a second time.

Fresh crimson exploded from Gael's chest.

He staggered back. His eyes were glazed with shock as he lost agency over his body. His muscled, naked form lumbered spastically backwards as he looked with marbled eyes from Rakesh to Diana, and back.

His shins hit the stone edge of the large hot tub.

Rakesh's brow set in an unforgiving cast. He depressed the trigger again. A third shot blasted into Gael's chest.

The star stumbled back, fell over the lip of the tub, and crashed into its rain-rippled waters.

A long, wordless swatch of time drew out on the stormy deck. Eventually, the pistol dropped from Rakesh's fingers. It fell to the puddled ground with a splash.

The sounds of chaotic, approaching voices drew closer, and then they heard a door crash open inside the mansion.

"This is Hotwife Games security," came a tinny, speaker voice muffled by the distance. "If you are inside, discard your weapon. We are armed and approaching."

Diana and Rakesh looked at one another. They looked at the body floating, face up, in the tub.

They would be here soon, searching for Gael. They'd find his corpse, a murder weapon... and the two of them, unscathed.

Diana stood, staring at her husband as though seeing him for the first time. They looked at each other in silence through the pouring rain.

They closed the distance and clutched each other tightly.

The chaos inside the mansion intensified. Doors were smashing open. Bodies were moving. The noise grew closer still.

"I killed him," Rakesh said. It was obvious. He just needed to state the fact out loud.

"Yes," Diana responded. She pressed against his chest. Her eyes were on the hot tub, its underlit waters half-shadowed by the shape of Gael's body. "What do we do now?"

"I'll tell them I did it."

Diana pulled back. She looked at Rakesh, hope in her eyes.

"It was self-defense," she affirmed. "They all saw him shooting out on the lawns."

"Until they find his shed. Or whatever remains of it. I can't explain it now, but — it's gonna look like I left him to burn. Which... I did." Rakesh shook his head. "I shot him three times. You and I aren't even wounded... even if they buy it, I'm going away for a long time."

Rakesh and Diana looked at each other. Their eyes shone through the curtain of precipitation.

The sounds of the intruding guards moved closer through the house.

Their faces smashed together. They kissed, desperately and passionately, a pair whose love had never felt stronger than in this unforgiving moment. A couple who would soon be wrenched apart by a force much larger than them.

Then another sound materialized in contrast to the disturbance inside the house.

The rapid thudding of a speedboat on the sea.

—

(The last two installments will be posted soon.)