Part 20
I had no qualms of conscience as I drove the car i'd stolen away from the Victorian house, locking the pistol into the glove compartment. 'Regulate' by Warren G and Nate Dogg was playing on the radio, providing a fitting soundtrack as an epilogue to the shooting i'd executed only minutes before. If someone had told me earlier that I would be capable of reaching such an extreme, I wouldn't have believed them. Pulling that trigger gave me an incredible sense of accomplishment.
I'd left Justin's house not long before, under the pretence that I was going for a job interview. The pistol, like the car, was stolen property, but Justin saw neither of these. As I headed out the door, he'd begged me to stay away from Paul and Rich's ceremony. I'd given him my job interview excuse which he wasn't sure he'd believed, but the previous evening i'd shown him a forged letter from a nightclub in London asking me to attend an interview, to make my story more plausible. Reluctantly, he didn't persist and let me go.
I'd planned ahead. As I saw that I was heading closer to home, I turned into a road off the main highway and drove until I reached my destination - the edge of a steep hill. I'd visited the location earlier to check for anyone residing nearby and to work out exactly how I would carry out this step of the plan. I pulled up close with the front facing the edge and turned off the engine, climbing out and taking one more look around. In the distance, I could hear the faint wail of an ambulance vehicle. I assumed it was heading for the ceremony and shook my head.
"You're a bit late, guys," I said aloud as I took my position at the rear of the car. "My guess is that he's already dead."
Summoning all of my strength, I grabbed hold of the car gave it one long and mighty shove, watching as it tumbled and crumpled against the hill, plummeting to the ground.
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The greeting I recieved when I arrived at Justin's door was a punch in the face.
"You," he shouted, pointing an enraged finger at my face, "are the biggest son of a bitch i've ever had the displeasure of knowing!"
He'd found out about what i'd done. I didn't try to deny my actions - he would eventually find out the truth one way or another, most likely from Paul. Instead I sighed, folded my arms across my chest and asked, keeping my voice even, "How did you find out?"
"Paul just called me from his cellular. He's accompanying Richard to the hospital right now."
"So Rich is alive?"
"He's putting up a good fight, with no thanks to you!" His voice was loud and echoed throughout the small street, grabbing the attention of neighbours. They poked their heads out from their doorways and stared in our direction suspiciously. Not wanting our business to be made public, he grabbed my arm and forcefully pulled me inside, slamming the door behind him. I began to remove my jacket when he stopped me.
"Don't bother making yourself comfortable, Tim, you're packing your things and leaving!" He stomped into the living room and began gathering random belongings that i'd left lying around, continuing to speak as he threw each item at my feet. "If i'd known you were going to do this, I would've told you to fuck off as soon as you turned up on my doorstep!"
"Mate, calm down," I pleaded, feeling a headache steadily approaching.
"Calm down?" he shouted, pausing as he picked up a pair of my shoes. His face was red. "You just tried to kill someone, Tim! Someone who didn't deserve this at all! You're a sick and obsessed fucking arsehole, and that's the nicest way I can say how I feel about you! And you have the hide to come in here and tell me to calm down?" He angrily flung a shoe at me, narrowly missing me and hitting the wall. I ducked down and gathered the pile of my belongings from the floor.
"Justin, I did it because I had to," I began, hurrying ahead before he could respond. "As long as Rich is around, I will never be able to get what I want. I had to eliminate the competition."
"What do you think this is, a game? Do you think Paul is just a prize to be won and to fight over? Tim, this isn't competition we're talking about here. We're talking about love. We're talking about being so nauseatingly fixated on someone that would you kill just to claim possession of them. Paul can't and will never stop loving Rich, no matter what anyone says or does!"
"Oh, fuck off, you've been after Paul as well!" I shot back, dumping my pile on a nearby table. "Don't deny it!"
"I've never denied it!" Justin stormed closer and with one swift movement sent my items sprawling to the floor again. "But there's a difference between you and I, Tim, other than the obvious. I know that I can't have Paul. I can accept that. But you...you're so obsessed with this stupid idea that he could ever love you that the truth just won't sink in with you that he never will! Do you think by killing Rich it'd be easy for you to just slide in and take his place?"
I opened my mouth to object, gathering my items once again, but Justin raised his hand to silence me.
"No, don't answer that. I know what you think."
He swivelled around and made his way into the guest room that I was living in. As I followed him, he opened the cupboard doors and pulled my suitcase out, letting it drop to the floor with a loud thud. Without considering tidiness, he took my clothing and other belongings from the cupboard and threw them carelessly into the suitcase. I silently held my other belongings in my hands, knowing that nothing I could say or do would see me avoiding the consequence that Justin was about to enforce.
"You're getting out of here, Tim," he said as clothing was thrown over his shoulder. "Right now, with no objections or excuses. I've had to endure a hell of a lot of your scheming and conniving. I was a willing accessory at first, but i'm not going to take part in this any longer." With all of my items either in or near the suitcase, he roughly shoved everything in and squeezed the suitcase suit. Then he grabbed it by the handle and began walking out of the room towards the front door. "I'm doing you a very big favour by not reporting you to the police - or killing you myself, which i'm more than tempted to do right now. From now on, Tim, you're on your own." He pulled the front door open and heaved my suitcase onto the porch. It popped open upon impact, sending clothing flying to the ground. "Don't ask me to help you in any way, because i'll only tell you to fuck off."
"Justin, Rich isn't dead!" I began, but was silenced with the collision of my other shoe hitting my chest. As Justin reached for the door, he stared me down with eyes filled with hurt and fury, daring me to challenge him. I chose to keep my mouth shut, knowing that Justin would no longer give me any sort of help. I was on my own.
"I'm going to make sure that you keep away from Rich and Paul, Tim," he vowed. "If you do so much as watch them...i'll kill you myself."
Justin began to close the door, but stopped and pulled it open again, adding, "I'd advise you to get out of town while you can."
The door slammed shut in front of me with a resounding boom, the noise echoing down the street. Neighbours stood on their porches, staring at me with curiosity. The slam reverberated in my ears, making my head pound. I crouched to put my clothes back into my suitcase but found myself crawling into a ball on the front porch, lying amongst my crinkled clothes with my head in my hands. The reality of my actions hit me so hard that the pain was more unbearable than the throbbing of my face where Justin had punched me. A little more than a year earlier, Rich had been one of my best friends. Nobody would have been able to see the day when I turned on him, and on Paul. Infatuation had turned to obsession, and finally insanity. What kind of man would treat those he cared for so horribly? Because of my selfishness and my madness, i'd lost everything i'd ever held dear - my friends, my family, my career and my dignity. How could I dare hold my head up in public with the knowledge of the people i'd hurt and the lives i'd ruined - including my own?
Unable to look into the eyes of the people watching me, I whispered to myself, "What have I done?", fully knowing the answer.
Part 21