A Change Of Heart

A change of heart

By Jennifer Anne

He walked slowly down the hall, rifle clutched by his hip, taking a long drag on his cigarette. It’d been three days. Three long days trapped in that house. That god damned house. It was one of those flash ones, like the kind he’d seen on television or in the magazines Glory had wasted their money on, real snobby, a real showoff. With those off white walls, and fancy furniture, really clean as well. Too clean, scary clean, like something was being hidden. He didn’t trust it. The walls seemed to ache, groaning, shifting in the dark and Jack hated it. And it wasn’t just the noises, he could handle that, but there was something else, something just below the surface that freaked him out.

He’d decided it was the photos. They were all of the same woman - Alex’s old bird. His dead missus. She was a real looker mind you, but what didn’t sit well with Jack was the fact that Alex had kept all her junk. Had a room full of her shit, dresses, that kind of thing. He’d found them on the first night when he couldn’t sleep. It was a small room, with one of those fancy tables with a mirror that women in the old movies would sit at.

Stopping outside the bathroom, he peeked through the gap in the door, expecting to see the hunched form in the tub, hands tied to the taps, the once white dress shirt now murky from sweat.                                                                                

But he wasn’t there.

In a blind panic he charged downstairs. Lights where on in the kitchen, and he threw open the door. Glory spun on her heels, dropping the tape. The man was tied to a chair, head bowed, dark hair that was normally slicked back and tidy was now askew. His glasses on the bench. His arms held behind his back.

Jack paused, catching his breath, crushing his smoke under his heel before taking a few steps forward, head to one side, arms stretched imploringly. “Babe what are you doing?”                                                                                     

“Tying him up.”                                                                                            

“Yes I can see that. Mind telling me why?” Jack struggled with keeping his voice steady, to at least seem calm.                                                              

Glory looked from one man to the other and back again and sniffled. Jack hated it when she did that little intake of breath before the tears, her large eyes imploring.                                                                                                   

“Don’t cry.” His voice was sharp.                                                              

“But Jack -“                                                                                                               

“Just answer the goddamned question girl. What are you doing?”                 

“I…” she looked slowly around the room, tucking her hair behind her ear. Suddenly she grabbed a knife and held it to the man’s throat. Without thinking Jack raised the rifle, the barrel pointed directly at her chest.                        

Her eyes widened, mouth agape. “It’s me or him is it? It’s me or him! Either way, there is gonna be a dead fuck in the kitchen Jack. So who’s it gonna be?” her voice was shrill, eyes wide, panicking, manic. Her bare shoulders shook violently as the man struggled beneath her talon like hands, nails digging into his flesh, tape over his screaming mouth.                                                                            

Jack’s breath caught in his throat, panic rising like bile and he shook his head, turning from her.  “Jesus Christ Glory, calm down,” he lowered the rifle, resting it by his hip “we just gotta think babe, we just gotta think.” He stole a sideways glance at the man.                                                                                                    

He almost felt sorry for the guy, living in that house all on his lonesome, but all things considered, Jack had treated him well He wasn’t going to be a nasty bastard to a guy too stupid to mind his own business. Well, at least not one who, after some…fun…had offered to trade his decent nest egg for his life. And how could Jack refuse such an offer? It was enough to get him and Glory out of that shithole of a town, maybe get a nice place in the city, and start afresh. Jack had promised her that’d he’d get her out, that he’d get her nice things. They could even have a family. And with that rich prick’s money, he could give it to her. It was enough to make their dreams come true.                                                          

“Jack!” Glory stomped her foot, tears on her cheeks, hair stingy from sweat clung to her neck. Her hand dropped from Alex’s shoulder, now clasping at her dress, twisting the flowered fabrics and she cried. “Please, what are we gonna do?” she looked down at Alex, “he’s no use to us anymore. The checks cleared. We’re just wasting time.”                                                                                                                       

Take the tape off.” Jack straightened himself, turning to stand, facing his two companions.                                                                                                        

“Why?” Glory took a step back, looking from one man to the other.

“Don’t be a lazy cow Glory and do as you’re goddamned told, take the tape off and go upstairs.                                                                                                

“…I’m not lazy.”                                                                                                       

“Oh, for Christ’s sake girl, get out!” Jack went to grab at her, but she dodged, scurrying into the corner of the room.                                                                  

Jack shot her a look and snapped his fingers. She sunk to her knees, resting on her haunches; arms folded, and face stony. He grabbed a chair, and placed it in front of Alex. Straddling it; he leaned on the back, arms crossed, chin resting. He ripped the tape.                                                                                                  

“You know you shouldn’t speak to her like that.” Alex grimaced as Jack slapped him. After a while he’d gotten to know them a little, his captors. He knew that Jack was nothing more than a lowlife crim, the kind of man who got his kicks from yelling at his girl and fucking with people. But Glory was still young. When Alex had watched her when she was unaware, she just seemed so sad and bored with the life Jack had created for her and he’d given her a way out.                    

She’d shocked him when he first saw her, standing in his living room. Her back was to him, but he could see her reflection in the mirror on the mantel. She’d seemed so soft, so light, so much like her that he’d almost called out, called the name he hadn’t spoken in years. It pained him to see her in such a way.           

“You shouldn’t tell me how to treat my woman,” Jack drew the last words out with a snarl. His woman.                                                                                             

With a smirk, he gave a sharp whistle, motioning for Glory to take the rifle, but before she could, he grabbed her wrist, pulling her closer to him, wrapping an arm lazily around her waist. “She loves me as is, and I ain’t gonna change nothing.”                                                                                                                       

“Really, because from what I can see, you need a little educating.” Again Jack’s hand collided with his face. Alex let his eyes fall, staring at his attacker’s booted feet.                                                                                                                               

Jack replaced his arm around Glory and shook her slightly. There was venom in his voice. “She’s real pretty ain’t she? What do you say Alex? Is she your type? Think she’s pretty?”                                                                                         

“…She’s sweet…”                                                                                                     

“Sweet? She’s a right looker mate! I’ve seen you sneaking glances, checking her out. Thinking you’d like a crack at her are you?”                                             

Alex glared up at Jack. “No. I wouldn’t like a ‘crack’ at her.”                           

“What, are you saying she’s a dog mate? You saying she’s a dog?” His voice started to rise. “I think he’s being rude Glory, being a bit mean.” She tried to struggle free from his vice like grip, her face burning, but Jack wouldn’t relent.    “Aw no Alex, look, you’ve hurt her feelings.”                                        

With tears in her eyes, Glory broke free, stumbling back a bit, rubbing her red wrist. Jack lit himself another cigarette, puffing the blue cloud in Alex’s face, smirking. “Now, I’ve been thinking mate. The twenty grand we already got, that’s a nice little sum, but I gotta ask - is there was any way in which to convince you to part with some more?” he gave a sharp whistle, nodding his head at the girl, motioning for her to take the rifle.                                                                 

She took the gun from Jack’s outstretched arm as he pulled a blade from his belt, waving the weapon in front of the man’s face. “And remember your answer will determine my next course of action.”                                                           

Alex’s eyes flickered upwards and Jack felt the cold barrel of the rifle pressed against the back of his head and he let out another puff of smoke. “Babe, whatcha doing?”                                                                                                            

“Stopping you.”                                                                                                       

“why?”                                                                                                                      

“It’s too much, it’s just too much. I can’t handle it anymore Jackie. I can’t.”

“What happened to change your mind? You told me that you needed me my dear and you do, you know you do. You were nothing before me girl. You need me.

“No you don’t Glory. You don’t need him. You’ll be fine without him.” Alex tried to smile as convincingly as he could, keeping his voice calm. If his plan was going to work, he needed her to be strong. He needed her. “Tell him you don’t need him, tell him.”                                                                                          

Her face started to twist, tears blurring her vision, the barrel starting to waver.

“Tell him Glory.”                                                                                                                  

“I don’t need you Jack.” Her small voice quivered.                               

“Oh really?” with a crash Jack kicked the chair away and rose, taking Glory to the ground, his body heavy against hers. She struggled against him, arms flailing ineffectively against his bulky frame, gasping for breath, his large hands griped tightly around her small neck and her vision started to fade.        

Suddenly Jack released her, his eyes bulging, mouth agape, gurgling. She wriggled out from underneath him as Alex brought the knife back down into Jack’s back. He pulled Glory up, holding her to him as Jack struggled to his feet, stumbling slightly before falling.                                                            

“Go in the living room.” Alex picked up to rifle and she ran from the kitchen, and flung herself onto the sofa, buried her head in the cushions, sobbing. She stifled a scream when she heard the gunshot.                                           

After a while an eerie silence filled the house. The walls creaked, groaned and seemed to ache along with her; the pain in her chest was overwhelming. She wrapped her arms around herself, knees pulled tightly under her. If she stayed like this perhaps it’d all go away.                                                      

She jumped when Alex placed his hand on her back. Her large doe eyes were wild, staring up at him, her bony limbs pulled tight and he felt a small twinge of sympathy. But he couldn’t stop now. Not when he was so close.            

She slowly uncurled with his insistence. Now sitting bolt upright, ridged, twisting the edges of her skirts. He sat opposite her, rifle lying across his lap.                 

“What are gonna do now?” she asked, not tearing her eyes from her dress.

“We gotta go for a drive.”

After a few hours in silence, Alex pulled the car down onto a long dusty road. Stones rattled underneath the wheels, the sun just starting to rise over the hills. He pulled in sharp underneath a bridge, dust rising. Tagging in all colors and sizes marked the pillars. He walked about for a while, looking to see if anyone was around, rifle still in hand, before returning to the car and popping the trunk. With Glory’s assistance they carried Jack down to the water’s edge.

Catching his breath Alex watched the bulky package move down the water, the girl standing next to him, muttering to herself. He looked at her from the corner of his eye. He was lucky really, that she was as simple, as naïve as she was. Her poor little heart to easily charmed.                                                                         

He placed a hand on her shoulder, turning to face her, and pulled her over to him. She looked up at him, bloodshot eyes shining in the morning sun. He tucked a loose stranded of her hair behind her ear and she smiled. “We really did it. We’ll be okay now wont we?”                                                                                   

“Sure Glory. We’ll be fine.” He brought her to stand in front of him, her back resting against his chest.                                                                                                            

“I won’t have to go back?”                                                                         

“You will never have to go back.” He dropped the rifle.                                   

She smiled then, her mind filled with visions of long flowing dresses, dinner parties. The life Jack had promised but Alex had the ability to give her. She felt his hand running through her hair, and she closed her eyes, envisioning him in a fine suit, the two of them listening to music and laughing. Everything easy, everything forgotten, everything replaced by wine and people.        

Alex continued to run his hand through her hair and he held the blade in his other hand. His plan had been to dispatch the both of them, Jack at the house, Glory by the water and get his money back. There wasn’t anything tying them to him, they’d been on the run when they holed up in his house, unknown suspects in some small town robbery. But after a while, he’d gotten used to her around him. He’d forget sometimes, that Glory was Glory and not her. And it’d been easy convincing her she was worth more than Jack could give her; she’d wanted it to much. To be away from that life, to be better than what she was. So they struck up a deal. She’d get the life she wanted, the clothing; the music, everything, and he’d get to live the life he had wanted but that had been stolen from him.

“And I’ll have nice things too? Like your wife used to have?”                         

“Of course, you know you’re even the same size.”

by wavinghello