Without a Scratch

Time now not being perceived at all, I woke to the sounds of beeps and electric whirring, but I don't know when or how long it was after all that had taken place. I was alone, but soon a nurse entered and called for the doctor when she saw I was awake.

Doctor Tim Rouse was at my side in only a moment. "Bill, you've had a myocardial infarction, a heart attack. Because Dr. LeBlanc acted so promptly, performing CPR, it probably saved your life, and you have no heart damage at all that I can see. I think the MI, the heart attack, was brought on by a traumatic event, coupled with sudden physical activity and straining, and also, that you aren't exactly a specimen of a good, healthy lifestyle. I expect you to make a full recovery, but you will be on thin ice if you don't change your life style, watching what you eat and start exercising. Oh, and avoid any more sudden trauma coupled with great exertion"

"Avoid it? I certainly didn't go looking for this. I'm only 30, doc. Can this really be my heart that cause all this?" I asked incredulously.

"Absolutely it's your heart, Bill. Like I said, you've had a heart attack. That you're only 30 only speaks to your life style, your lack of exercise and the sudden emotional trauma you suffered along with the sudden physical exertion and straining." He explained again. Apparently he could tell that I was in denial about this and he was trying to making his point to me, again.

I was stunned, silent, and then remorseful. I began to cry. It all flooded back and I remembered what I'd seen, how I felt, what had happened. How I hurt because the love of my life betrayed me and she did it in my own bed, our bed where we'd owned one another, taken possession of each other so many times.

"There's right and there's wrong. This was wrong. Many people suffer wrong and endure it. I won't 'endure' this, this will be recompensed," I resolved from within as I cried and cried.

The nurse seemed alarmed and began to try to soothe me, but the doctor beckoned her back. "It's ok; it's a release for him. It will serve him to cry it out, it's therapeutic for him to relieve some of the pent up emotion he's still got. Let him go for a while, he'll be ok."

The doctor just said he'd look back in on me in a bit, but the nurse stayed. I cried for a long while. Actually, I sobbed.

When I finally dried up a bit, I told her that I needed to make sure I had no visitors, that I did not want my wife in the room at all; or anyone else either.

She said that my wife was waiting to see me, but she'd see to it that I was not disturbed.

I actually do not know how long I was in the hospital. Time had lost relevance and it never registered to me how long I was there. I suppose it was a few days.

But finally I was released. My wife had gone home and so the coast was clear.

When I did look at a clock it was 12 pm as I was wheeled out to a cab at the front of the hospital. I thought Brooke might possibly be at work, so I asked the cab to take me to my house.

My Buick had been parked behind Marc LeBlanc's Mercedes as it sat in my stall in the garage when I got home Monday night. But they'd moved it to the street so they could get his car out, and on the street my car still sat.

Brooke was not at home, so I got my still unpacked suitcase from where I left it in the utility room, and packed two more. I tossed my wedding ring on the bed, and left. I had to make three trips to the car because I was weak from several days in bed and because I wanted to be careful to not induce another heart attack.

I went to the bank and took out in cash, every dime that I could get. The rest they gave me in a cashier's check. I cancelled all our credit cards, drove to my office and quit my job. Brooke had called them and told them I'd returned home early from Atlanta, but was in the hospital, that I'd be in touch as soon as I could. She did not know why I had come home early. The people in my office knew I'd returned early, and why, but nobody apparently told Brooke.

I had not spoken one word to my wife. Our eyes had met while she was in the throes of her Marc LeBlanc induced orgasm, but no words were exchanged between us since I'd returned home.

-- -- --

I was starving after laying the coyote out in his warehouse. I was in unfamiliar territory, but I realized it was a probably heavily Hispanic part of town.

There were no cabs in that part of the outskirts of Tucson at that early hour, so I walked. Because it was right after dawn, it was safe. All the bad boys were either stoned or home in bed, I reckoned.

Finally, after an hour of walking mostly north, I found a busy restaurant. I went in and got a booth in the back. I ordered oatmeal with dry toast, orange juice and a boiled egg.

This was not my usual fare of Bacon and eggs with a side of hash browns, grits and biscuits and gravy, as I remembered Dr. Rouse's stern admonition concerning my diet and life style. "Ok, beginning today changes will be made", I thought to myself. "Actually, beginning Monday night, when I got home from Atlanta, they started."

As I ate, I sat there thinking. I'd already begun the long, arduous journey that I knew I'd need to make to reclaim any sense of direction in my life.

Using the restaurant business phone, loaned to me by my flirty waitress, I called the Arizona Highway Patrol and reported my accident. I told them where I was placing the call from, where I thought the accident had occurred and that I needed my possessions from the car. An officer came to the restaurant, since I had no way to go to him, and took the report over his own breakfast. That was cool, he was cool. You know if the cops eat there, the food is good.

Officer Brian Vance took me back out to the site of the wreck, ordered a tow and took me back to Tucson. I was surprised to see that the car never caught fire.

What a great guy this young officer was. He did write me a ticket, telling me, "It's required, we must assign fault and you are totally at fault here. You fell asleep at the wheel. It won't be bad, just 3 points and a couple hundred dollars or so. I'll lighten the charges so it won't ding you too bad."

I was glad I'd bought the man's breakfast. He took me back to Tucson and helped me find a comfortable room.

With police report in hand and my cell phone back in my possession, I got ahold of the insurance company. They had an adjuster come look at the car and wrote me a check on the spot. I love State Farm. I walked to the closest car dealer to my motel, a Kia dealer, and bought a new Sorrento. It was priced about what I got out of my older Buick, and the Sorrento was new, so I came out ok, I thought.

I gave them the check from State Farm after I'd negotiated my price down to what the check was written for. They looked stunned when I gave them the check. I'd purposely held out for that amount so I didn't have to come up with more, and they yielded when I walked out on them during negotiations.

I knew that with all the police reports, accident activity and now new car purchase, with tax and license that I'd be easily traced if Brooke tried to find me. I hoped she was trying to find me, because I was going to war with her doctor friend and her. I did not care if they found me; I had nothing more to lose, and everything to gain if I could win.

Whether they found me or not, I decided that I was now looking for them.

I'd asked Brian Vance, the Arizona Patrolman for the name of a Pit Bull type of divorce lawyer and he gave me the name of the most feared in Tucson, Alfred Bell, Esq.

I got right in to see Mr. Bell. He was probably 65, medium sized. His gaze gave me shudders. His steel blue cold eyes, no hint of a smile, perfectly kept hair and silk Italian suit, emitted confidence, aggression, competence and collusion.

My preliminary fee was $5,000. I handed him my cashier's check and he took it, promising me my change the next day.

I told Mr. Bell all that had happened. I told him about Marc LeBlanc, MD., how I caught him fucking Brooke, how I fought with him, that I had a heart attack and he saved my life. I wanted him to hurt; I wanted him to know I had no thanks in my soul towards him for saving my life, since my goal at the time was to take his. I wanted to sue LeBlanc, I wanted to ruin his marriage and I wanted to shame and humiliate Brooke, as well as hurt her financially.

Mr. Bell suggested that since I'd had a heart attack, he would also try to get me some extra cash from LeBlanc for his part in that, too, never mind that he'd saved my life.

It had been a couple days since I had checked my cell phone for messages. Just too much had happened and I never thought to look. There were several, many from Brooke.

Brooke's main theme was, "Bill, please contact me. We need to talk. It was the first time, honest." "Bill, I love you. Please, let's work this out." "Bill I went to gas up and they refused my credit card." "Bill, There's no money in the account for the house payment or electricity bill, what have you done?" "Bill, where are you, they said you quit your job." "Bill, I've been fired, I need to know when you are coming home."

"Piss on her and the horse she rode in on," were my only thoughts about her messages.

There were other calls, some were repeats from her. My folks called, her dad called, my ex-boss called wanting me to come back to the company, explaining that even with all the traumatic events that had happened in Atlanta, the company felt they needed to salvage me because I am vital to the company. And, my ex-boss advised me that my wife had been making a nuisance of herself.

I called my ex-boss and had a nice long visit. I told him the situation with my wife, and that I was in Tucson and needed time and distance for the moment until I could figure out a plan. He got me to agree to return to work at a substantial increase in pay and benefits, but I told him I needed a month or so to recover from the heart attack and to reintegrate myself into some sort of a life in Phoenix that did not include Brooke. He was very amenable, telling me to get back when I could, that he'd hold my job open for me. He also said I had some money coming to me yet that I hadn't gotten when I had been in earlier in the week. I asked him to hold it for me, that I'd need it when I got back. He said that he had the check in his desk at that moment. It was actually a bonus for not quitting, agreeing to stay on at the company, and an incentive to keep me happy. I was still not scratched.

Mr. Bell wanted information. I signed releases of all sorts; for the hospital to give him my medical records and doctors' notes. I gave him power of attorney to deal with Brooke and her attorney, instructing him not to give her or anyone my current whereabouts. He told me he would do a thorough background on Marc LeBlanc, on the medical clinic and on Brooke.

I told Mr. Bell that I was going to slip back to Phoenix and find a place to live, but that he was to proceed with divorce papers and a lawsuit against Marc LeBlanc personally and against the Medical Clinic that he was part owner of, which Brooke was an employee of under Marc LeBlanc. I also advised Mr. Bell that I would pay no alimony, no house payments or utilities. Brook would need to figure it out or fail on her own. I wanted nothing to do with her. I figured Marc LeBlanc was probably helping her financially.

We sued the medical clinic for twenty million dollars for allowing employee fraternization causing this divorce action. We settled for six hundred thousand. Mr. Bell got a third. We sued Marc LeBlanc for twenty million dollars and got nothing. His wife beat us to it and he took banko. That was acceptable. I'd watch and see, maybe sneak up on him later.

According to Mr. Bell's investigators, Brooke got a job in a nursing home dispensing medication to the residents. Her pay was less than she was making with Marc LeBlanc and she lost the house, lost her car and was living alone in a studio apartment not far from her new job. She walked to work.

-- -- --

For the first year after the trauma of finding my wife fucking her boss in my home, in our marital bed, I got busy doing two things, mostly. The first thing is, I became a regular at the gym. I work out for one hour in the morning and walk/run two miles at night. My diet became healthier and my body shows the benefits of my labors.

The second thing I did was plunge back into my job. I found a nice apartment in Gilbert, a suburb of Phoenix, and commute to downtown. My new digs are a top floor three bedroom, two bathroom penthouse with a 360 degree view of the Phoenix Metropolitan area. It is stunning. I have no place to spend my additional income, let alone my windfall from the lawsuit against the clinic, so I pigeon hole it. I keep it in cash hidden, and I buy gold coins and stash them. Every pay day, I put enough to cover my bills in the bank and take the rest in cash. I buy a gold coin if I have the money or put the cash away in my hiding spot if I do not.

I eventually expect a visit from Brooke and want to be liquid if she tries to come after me for alimony or for her half of what we accumulated. It may have only been fair to give her half, but what she did wasn't fair. Fuck her. I didn't have any inclination to be fair to her since her treachery towards me.

She never really fought me on anything. She signed the divorce papers and accepted things without a peep. To my surprise, the divorce went through during the first year after I'd discovered her tryst.

Being a regular at the gym, I gradually met others who work out at the same time. Some of the men have become friends and one of the women is now my lover. Her name is Kandy, and she and I hit it off well. We weren't really dating, but we became friends with bennies, which suits us both just fine. She's a petite blonde with incredible, edible thighs, tiny little mosquito-bite breasts that are ultra-sensitive, a turned up nose, dimples in her cheeks and she does love to fuck. She also likes to leave when we're through. We get together after hours about 2 or 3 times per week, with occasional sleep overs. It suits us both well.

All the physical exercise and healthy eating has changed my appearance and my attitude. My job performance and income has improved and I seem to be on the mend, emotionally.

Except, I still burn inside about the seduction of my wife, by a man in authority, her boss, who was in a position of trust and who seduced her. I still have no idea how it all happened, or when it started. I found out from Mr. Bell what I could about Dr. Marc LeBlanc and set out to follow him once or twice per week, on different days, at different times. Looking for patterns, indications of his social life and if it included Brooke still.

I stalked my prey at his home, at his work, at the grocery store. Wherever and whenever I could, I made it my hobby to find Marc Bell on any given day and follow him, get to know more about him. I even watched as he picked up his kids from his ex-wife and took them to a park and then to Dairy Queen. They sat inside eating their sundaes while I sweltered in the Arizona heat outside watching them. The kids were mid-teens, I'd guess, but everyone likes a Dairy Queen Sundae now and then.

Always from a distance, I kept an eye on Marc LeBlanc. Not every day, but a few times per week. He'd moved on from the medical clinic after the lawsuit, probably had to sell his corporate shares under duress, I guessed, perhaps to settle my lawsuit.

The medical clinic had strict non fraternization rules in place. Even though LeBlanc was a shareholder in the corporation, he is bound by the rules and subject to the board's judgments and decisions. Medical clinics and physicians carry large insurance policies that generally are umbrellas for liability of actions from the physicians they insure. Physicians are regularly sued for medical decisions they make and occasionally for things like this incident with the seduction of and ruined marriage of an employee. I was the beneficiary of that part of their insurance. We settled out of court.

LeBlanc left the clinic and landed in a large hospital in Glendale working in their endocrinology department. Mr. Bell indicated he was pretty well broke. But, he was making good money again and I kept track of him when I could. I'd sit in my Kia and watch his comings and goings once in a while, trying to get a feel for his life, his patterns. From what I could tell, he and Brooke were done, but I did not know for sure.

Another year passed. I decided the only real satisfaction that I'd ever have would be to kill Marc LeBlanc. Though I'd hurt him and he'd lost his wife and children, his job, his wealth, I wasn't satisfied. He was rebounding and I couldn't allow his life to soar again. Nope, this man must die.

How he managed to seduce Brooke, I had no idea. He must've been a master. I was sure that she was mine, I'd have bet my life on her. How he ingratiated himself to her, got inside her protective zone and then exploited her like he did, fucking her without a condom just plain pissed me off. I couldn't find my way around it.

I knew he may still be physically superior to me and so I reasoned that I had to get the jump on him. I waited for him beside his car one night as he was leaving the hospital. As he walked to his car in the darkened garage, I grabbed him around the neck from behind, stuck a 6 inch blade in his right kidney and twisted. Just as I inserted the knife into his body, I whispered in his ear, "I'd like to thank you for saving my life, oh, and you ruined it, too."

He collapsed, looked up at me and recognition swept across his face. The death mask replaced it. He bled out right there on the ground at my feet as I watched. I took his wallet, his watch, Masonic ring, and his gold necklace so it'd look like a robbery. The gold necklace had an inscription, "To Marc from Brooke. Love, Always".

"Where did she get the money to buy that?" I wondered.

His wallet had a few hundred in it, I dispersed his credit cards among the street people downtown. I treated myself to a new set of tires for my Kia with his cash. His watch also had an inscription, "All my love forever, -Brooke."

I suppose that was the answer to the question, "Are they still seeing one another?" But, I still wondered where she got the money. Maybe he was paying her. I had no idea.

The murder of Dr. Marc LeBlanc made the evening news the next night and the police promised to do due diligence in finding the murderer. I was never questioned. I always wondered why. I hoped it was because they were off chasing rabbit trails about it being a robbery. No other motives, apparently, were assigned to his death.

What with the engraved watch and necklace, it was obvious to me that Brooke and LeBlanc were still an item, or at least getting together occasionally for a fuck. I realized that she loved him.

With his death, I knew I'd run into Brooke sooner or later. I just knew she'd find me to try to smoke me out, get me to admit to his murder, or kill me herself...or, seduce me. I'd be ready.

I received a phone call at the office, one afternoon from what I thought was one of our suppliers, but I did not recognize the number. "You killed him didn't you? I know it was you. You've impoverished me and now you killed this good and decent man who only tried to help me and help people...he was a doctor for God's sake, Bill...You Bastard!" It was Brook and it was 2 years since our last conversation. It was a diatribe, but I hadn't heard her voice in all that time. She was yelling and crying into the phone at me. It was unsettling and I wondered if she intended to do me harm, or come after me in some way.

She slammed the phone down. I never uttered a word. I never had a chance to. She was definitely distraught.