Tom’s Murder (Original Short Story)

Content Warning: Sexual assault, coercive sexual content, drug use and addiction, stalking, psychological abuse, misogynistic language, murder, suicide, and firearm violence.

By Connor MacDonald

Without her I am a shade. She was a cool summer night personified. Somebody who brought joy and light wherever she went. I watched her from my bedroom. Dolce knelt beside Tom, working on their garden. As she looked up towards me, the sunlight made her eyes look like a deep pool.

It was the morning after our nightly rendezvous. Her fingers caressed her initials into my bare chest.

“You’re mine,” she muttered. “You make me feel like I’m special.”

“You are special.” I stroked her face. “You’re special to me.”

Every moment without her was stretched to the limits of perception. We had been neighbors for several months. When she introduced herself to me those months ago, I knew she was the one. The special one that we all search for. She felt it too. I saw her chest rise and fall as we talked. Her eyes betrayed her sensibilities.

He jolted his hand towards me.

“Hey there, I’m Tom.”

“Nice to meet you.” I shook his hand and looked to Dolce. “What is your name?”

“Dolce.” She had an accent. Italian, I figured. “Sorry, my English is not good.”

“Met her in Italy when I went there for business.” He smiled wide. He plucked a beautiful flower from Italy and transported her to a concrete hell. Miserable and repetitive homes for miles. She did not belong here.

“You two should have stayed in Italy,” I declared. “What is there here?”

“Tom.” She shrugged.

Tom laughed. He had a grating, irritating laugh. It was as if pins had been inserted into my ears and stabbed wildly into my canal.

“My job is here. We’ll make a good life for us here.” He pulled her closer to him.

“I’m sure you will.”

Now Dolce screams my name at night and Tom is alone. She told me that he likes to watch movies and play video games. Pedestrian bullshit.

“He’s killing your spark,” I told her after we had sex in my car.

“He’s a fine man. He just has other priorities.”

“If God graced me with a woman like you, my only priority would be her.”

“You’re just saying that.” She looked off towards some parked cars in the distance.

“No, it’s true. I wouldn’t lie.”

She laughed at that. Her laugh made me smile. It was one of those light, floaty laughs. Something inhuman and beautiful. She cleaned herself in the back of my car.

That night, when I dropped her off, Tom was waiting for her on the porch.

I could hear them arguing.

“You’re spending too much time with him,” he said. “I feel like I’m losing you. Please.”

She went inside. Tom stood on the porch and looked at me with pleading eyes. I pulled into my own driveway and walked inside. I slammed the door and screamed. It was a primal scream, from the depths of my soul.

That was last week. Dolce kept seeing me, but Tom would stare at me. He was broken. He knew I made love to Dolce and that she loved me. There was nothing he could do. The two were silent as they worked on the garden.

Something twisted inside of me. I willed myself to go outside.

“Morning, neighbors.” I walked towards them.

“Morning,” Tom muttered.

“How is the gardening going?” I asked.

“Fine.” Dolce smiled at me and bit her lip.

Tom grimaced.

“How can I help you?” Tom asked me, rising to meet my gaze.

“Oh, just wanted to see how your garden is coming along.” I looked over at their work. A couple of flowers, a bush, some saplings. I glanced back towards my own, which was a cornucopia of fertility. Lush flowers sprouted from the black mulch, budding in the summer.

“It’s going.” He was short. “Listen, I’m not really in the mood to talk.”

“Oh, I was going to ask about tattoos.” I smiled.

“Tattoos?”

“Well, Dolce has a tattoo on her thigh, doesn’t she?”

Tom blinked at me. Dolce blew out a gust of air from her nostrils.

“What?” Tom sounded incredulous.

“Yeah. It was a birthmark before. Now it’s initials. Figured she’d know a good tattoo artist.”

Tom clenched his fist.

“I’m going inside.” He stormed off, wiping a tear from his eye.

Dolce got up.

“Tom, wait!”

She ran after him.

She was gone. The wellspring of love had dried up as she chased him inside. I walked up to their garden and plucked a rose that Tom had planted. I slowly made my way back into my house, twirling the rose between my fingers. It did not even sting.

That night, I heard a knock on my door. Dolce was standing there, her eyes red. She was still as beautiful as ever. Even more so when she cried. She needed me, and I needed her.

I opened the door.

“Dolce, what’s wrong?”

“Tom. He’s left to get a hotel room.” She sobbed. “Maybe this is wrong. I don’t know. It’s so confusing to me.”

“Come in. Let’s talk.”

My fingers gently touched her shoulder, leading her into my house.

She sat down on my couch.

“You don’t want to see me anymore?” I leaned back, trying to be cool.

“No… I don’t know.” She shook her head. “What you did was shitty. Tom knows. He doesn’t need to be reminded.”

She wiped the tears from her eyes. Something stirred in me.

“No, I suppose you’re right. I was dumb.” I tried to sound guilty.

The pools of blue in her eyes looked wet. She wrapped herself around me, and I began to kiss her neck. At first, she moaned.

“No,” she protested. “No, this is wrong. I can’t.”

“Then why are you wet?” I felt between her legs.

“Oh God.” She shuddered. I could feel the energy course through her body. I ripped her blouse off and pushed her down on the couch. She kicked as I pulled her pants down. Her body relaxed as I entered her and tightened around me as I was inside of her.

After it was done, she lay there silently. I tossed her a towel.

“Here. Clean yourself up.”

I didn’t even look at her. I could hear the shower running upstairs. When she came back down, her eyes were sunken and lifeless.

“What’s wrong, baby?” I sounded sweet.

She crawled into my arms, and I rocked her back and forth.

“It’ll be fine.” I stroked her hair. “Are you worried you’ll lose me?”

She didn’t respond. I continued to pet her.

“Do you want a hit?” I asked.

She looked up at me. I could tell she was craving it. I grabbed a baggy and handed it to her.

“Here you go. You earned it.”

I gave her a pat on the head.

I did not like seeing her poison herself, so I left the room. I avoided looking at the mirror as I went into the bathroom. Seeing myself after giving her that poison made my stomach turn. I washed my hands three times before leaving.

Dolce was sprawled out on the couch, her mouth wide open. If she puked, she would choke to death, so I gently rolled her onto her side. She was beautiful as she slept. Like a doe curled up. She was safe with me.

The motion-sensor lights came on outside, and I turned towards them. I could see a figure cloaked in darkness prowling outside the house. When I looked at the cameras I had installed facing Dolce’s house, I could see him.

Tom was trying to look through my windows.

“Dolce! Dolce!” He held a bottle in his hands. “I’m sorry. Are you in there?”

I didn’t move. The lights went off, but I could vaguely make out his impression. He was sobbing outside my house. The mewing bothered me on a masculine level. What sort of man cries?

“My love?” Dolce muttered as if she was in a dream.

I walked over to her and grabbed her hand.

“Yes?”

She didn’t respond to me.

I ripped my hand away from her and went upstairs.

When I woke up, Dolce had crawled into my bed in the middle of the night. Her naked body softly rose and fell with each breath. I gently touched her nipple.

Tom was outside, passed out in one of the bushes. Drunk, I figured.

The early morning sun greeted me as a friend. I shook Tom.

“Wake up,” I commanded.

“Where is Dolce?” He shielded his eyes from the sun. “Is she with you? She wasn’t home.”

“She spent the night. She was afraid to be alone.” I lied.

“You’re just her gay friend, right? That’s what she tells me.”

He reached his hand out, and I pulled him up.

“Yeah. You don’t need to worry about me.” I lied again.

He collapsed into my chest.

“I think she’s cheating on me.”

She was.

“She isn’t,” I said.

“No?” He looked at me.

“Nah. I don’t think so. She just wants to dream and live. She wants passion and love. You can’t keep a songbird caged for long, Tom. Eventually it wants to fly off.” I smiled at him.

“You’re the only guy I talk to. I’m sorry about the other day.” He wiped a tear from his eye. “It’s just been so rough.”

He sat down on the ground, and I stood above him.

“Tell me what’s going on.”

“I got fired two months ago. I told Dolce we might have to move. She hasn’t taken it well.” He swallowed hard. “I think she is using again.”

“Using what?” I was as innocent as a dove.

“Heroin.”

It was blunt and cold. Tom stared at me for a moment, as if he was studying me.

“Tom, I’m only going to say this because I care about you.” I gave his chest a pat. “Moving won’t be a good idea.”

His voice began to crack.

“I…”

He couldn’t finish. I don’t know why.

“What is it?” I crouched down to get to eye level.

“I can’t afford the mortgage.” His eyes were wet.

“I’ll take care of it, Tom. Quietly.” I helped him up again and embraced him. “Things will get better, bro.”

“You’d do that for me?” His voice was muffled as he spoke into my neck.

“Of course. That’s what good neighbors do.” I smiled down at him.

He began to cry. His face went red, and tears rolled down his cheeks like wet balls of slime. I made sure my face was steel, though.

“I’m so sorry, man,” he wept. “I’m so sorry. I thought you were fucking her. I’m a horrible friend.”

We hadn’t noticed that Dolce had come over to join us.

“What’s going on?” she asked, looking at me.

“Tom and I are just talking about man things,” I told her.

“We are talking about the mess we’re in, Dolce,” Tom informed her.

I rolled my eyes. She didn’t need to hear this.

“The mess?” She was still unsure of her footing.

“I’m so sorry. I pushed you away.” Tom hugged her. “I accused your friend of sleeping with you. You’re right, Dol. I need to give you room to breathe.”

I could see a single tear roll down her cheek. As they embraced, she stared through me.

“We’re gonna fix our situation,” Tom continued. “He’s gonna help us.”

“How?” She sounded suspicious.

“He’s gonna pay for the mortgage,” he blurted out.

I began to open my mouth to respond, but he cut me off.

“I know, you said you’d do it quietly. But as a man, I can’t quietly accept it without Dol knowing. You’re a good friend, man.”

“Yeah.” I shrugged. “It’s fine, Tom. Don’t sweat it.”

Dolce came over and kissed me on the cheek.

“Thanks,” she whispered.

Tom and Dolce stared at me for a moment in silence.

“Well, we’re gonna need to talk. Thanks for everything, man.”

“Yeah. Don’t mention it.”

I was now standing there by myself. Dolce and Tom went back into their house. Dolce turned and looked at me. I could see one of my marks on her neck. Tom looked down and saw what I was staring at. He furrowed his brow for a moment and opened the door for Dolce.

I went back inside.

I looked through the nude pictures I had taken of Dolce as she slept and pleasured myself to the thought of her.

Tom and her.

Why Tom and her?

I imagined it in my head. Her with him. His hands feeling her. I could hear it.

I whipped my phone across the bedroom.

“Fucking bitch,” I prayed.

She’ll come crawling back soon. Tom will mess up. Tom will not respect her enough. He won’t give her what she needs.

My eyes looked towards the stash of drugs I’d tease her with. Tom wouldn’t provide that. Tom was the good boy.

Is that what Dolce wanted?

I lay in my bedroom, but I was elsewhere. Exploring the expansive passions of my own mind. She would crave me again. This has happened before, I told myself. When she went back to Tom for a day or two and came back to me.

To her protector.

What a man. A man who can’t even provide for his family. He announced it himself to make himself out to be the victim.

Poor Tom.

I left to go to work.

I actually worked, unlike some people.

I opened the branch doors. A small branch for a big bank, that’s what I thought.

“Dolce, you guys should open an account at my branch,” I told them when I was first introduced.

“Oh, you’re the manager of a bank?” Tom asked.

“Yeah. I’ll give you guys good deals.”

And I did. I waived their fees. It was my discretion, of course.

As I walked into the branch, I went immediately into my office. A young girl with a large chest stood there. Stacey was one of the tellers who worked for me.

“We need to talk,” she declared.

“Talk about what?” I sat down.

“You fucked me. Months ago.” She sounded exhausted. “I can’t live without you. Why not me?”

Her eyes were on the floor.

“Stacey, it isn’t a good idea for us to see each other.”

“You said you loved me.” Her voice was infinitesimal. “That I was special.”

“I was wrong.” I cut through her. “Now, we have work to do. Go fill the ATM.”

I could hear her break as she walked out of my office.

Special.

Everyone thinks they’re special.

Nobody is special.

I pulled up Tom’s account. He had a couple hundred dollars in his chequing account. I moved several thousand dollars from my account into his. It would keep her near me for a while longer, at least.

I looked through what they were buying. Alcohol and lots of it. They hadn’t been to the grocery store in two weeks. Tom had a hunger that nothing could satiate. Dolce was always thin and required little to eat, but Tom was a fat man.

Then I saw it.

A transaction came in from a restaurant.

They were reconciling. I could feel it within my soul. She hadn’t gone out on a date with him for months, and now they were.

I could feel the bile creeping up my throat.

“Stacey!” I called from my office. “Come here.”

She entered my office sheepishly. I motioned for her to sit down.

“Stacey,” I said, honey-sweet as can be, “we definitely should talk.”

“What is there to say?” She glared at me.

“You’re right. I haven’t treated you well. Let me make it up to you at lunch.”

“How are you going to do that?” She raised a brow.

“I’ll take you to a nice restaurant. Public. It’ll be nice. We’ll take a longer lunch than usual too. Nobody has to know.” I smiled.

She smiled back.

We went to an expensive restaurant in town. She laughed and touched my arm. I made her feel chosen and safe. It’s the desire and want of all women, and it makes them easy to understand. When men say they do not understand women, they reveal a fundamental disinheritance of life they possess. They lack the skills and social know-how to function.

To live.

When we went to my car, she began to kiss me. I pushed her head down, and it bobbed up and down.

I couldn’t get hard.

Then I saw him.

Tom.

He waved at me from across the parking lot.

I waved back.

“I can’t—” Stacey said, gasping for air.

Her head came up from below, and Tom saw it.

“You fucking idiot!” I roared.

She jumped back.

“What?” She was like a child.

Tom walked over to the window and tapped it. I rolled it down.

“Hey, Tom.” I looked up at him.

He looked down at me.

“You’re a real piece of fucking shit. You know that?” His spit hit me in the face. “I thought you were gay.”

“Gay?” Stacey was confused.

She was so stupid.

“Well, so my wife and him claimed.” Tom gave her a hard stare, but softened. “Sorry. This isn’t your fault.”

“What do you want me to say?” I asked Tom.

“I want you to stop fucking my wife!”

He stormed off.

Stacey had fallen silent.

“I’m not going back to work,” she broke the silence.

“Yeah, neither am I.”

The car came alive as I pulled out of the parking lot. My hands were shaking.

“Take me home,” she ordered.

“No.”

“No?”

I drove outside of town. When Stacey pulled out her phone, I whipped it out the window.

“You’re scaring me.”

Tears ran down her face.

“You fucked it all up. You know that? You fucked it all up. Now I have to deal with the fallout of this. Of your mistake. Why couldn’t you just make me finish? Why couldn’t you do a good job? Why couldn’t you be a good girl?”

I white-knuckled the steering wheel.

“You disgust me. You’re just some slut anyways. Just a whore who wants to fuck her boss. Oh, look at me. I come to work wearing a low-cut dress. You knew what you were doing. Now? Now I’m going to punish you.”

“Don’t, please. I won’t tell anyone. I swear.”

She was pleading with me.

“You told Tom. That’s enough for me.”

I turned down a dirt road and into a forest. I parked my car.

She began to cry, not understanding what would happen to her.

“Don’t hit me again, please.”

She looked at me with pleading eyes.

For half a heartbeat, I considered just hitting her, but she had ruined it all. Just looking at her made me want to puke.

“Get out. Get out!”

I got out of the car and took the keys. She tried to crawl away, but I dragged her out of the car.

When I was finished, I left her there.

Something else would clean up her mess.

When I pulled back into town, I called the other employees at the bank and told them I wouldn’t be back.

The drive back was quiet and long. I thought about Stacey. Maybe I had overreacted, but I was driven to it. I looked at the empty seat beside me and remembered her laugh.

Sometimes I could overreact.

As I pulled into my driveway, Tom was standing there.

“Move out of the way, Tom. I wasn’t fucking your wife. She isn’t even my type!” I shouted at him.

“Not your type?” He laughed.

He staggered slightly and reached into his pocket.

“Is this your type?”

He was holding a gun.

He aimed it towards me.

Dolce ran outside their house.

“Tom, stop!” she yelled. “Stop it! Stop it!”

She had come to save me.

“I’ll stop seeing him.” She grabbed Tom’s face. “It was a mistake. He used me. He played me.”

She sobbed.

She was just saying that.

“Dolce, I can’t keep doing this.” He gently pushed her aside. “I can’t let this shadow wearing human skin live. For your sake.”

Something cold punched me.

One.

Two.

Three times.

Where was I?

I looked down and saw nothing. I moved my back, and cold, wet paste was stuck to the leather seat.

“Forgive me,” Tom said as he put the gun into his mouth and fired.

Dolce cried and rushed to help him.

Help him?

What about me?

As my vision began to fade, I called out for her.

“Dolce.”

My hand extended towards her.

It tried to extend.

It was too heavy.

She cried over Tom.

For fuck’s sake.