"Nick deserves to know where things stand. " Where things stand? Like I was a business partner being bought out, not a husband whose world was imploding. "Get off my property. " I said quietly. Curtis laughed. Actually laughed.
"Come on, Nick. Let's be adults about this. You can't seriously think you can compete with what I offer her. " That's when something inside me snapped. Not broke, snapped. Like a rubber band stretched too far, releasing all its tension at once.
I walked into the house, past Amber who was suddenly looking nervous, past Tess who was recording everything on her phone like it was content for her social media. I went straight to the bedroom closet to the lockbox I kept on the top shelf. The.357 Magnum had been my father's. He'd taught me to shoot when I was 12. Out at the old quarry where teenagers now went to drink and pretend they were invincible.
"A tool isn't a toy, Nick. " he'd said. "It's a responsibility. You only pull it out when you're prepared for everything to change. " Everything was already changing. I walked back outside, the weight of the revolver solid in my hand. Curtis was leaning against his BMW, checking his Rolex like my marriage was making him late for dinner.
"You have exactly 2 seconds to get in your car and drive away. " I said, raising the tool. Curtis's face went white. "Jesus Christ, Nick, put that thing down. One, you're insane. Amber, call the police. " Two, I aimed at the ground between us and pulled the trigger.
The fire shot cracked through the neighborhood like thunder, echoing off the houses and sending Mrs. Henderson's cat sprinting across three lawns. Curtis stumbled backward, and I noticed a dark stain spreading across the front of his expensive pants. He'd wet himself. The big shot car dealer who thought he could waltz into my life and take whatever he wanted had just pissed himself in my driveway.
"Next time I won't aim low," I said. Curtis scrambled into his BMW, his hands shaking so badly he could barely get the key in the ignition. Amber ran after him, her heels clicking on the asphalt. "Wait, Curtis, wait for me. " She threw a desperate look back at the house, at me standing there with the tool still in my hand, and made her choice. She got in the passenger seat.
I watched them drive away, tail lights disappearing around the corner like the last 20 years of my life. Then I turned to Tess, who was still filming from the porch. "If either of you comes back here," I called loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear, "I'll be waiting. " The door slammed behind me, leaving me alone in a house that suddenly felt like a tomb. The smell of gunpowder hung in the air, mixing with the lingering scent of Amber's perfume. I sat down at the kitchen table, still holding the tool, and wondered what the hell I was supposed to do next.
Outside, I could hear sirens in the distance getting closer. The police sergeant who showed up was Danny Morrison, a guy I'd gone to high school with. He took one look at the scene, the bullet hole in the asphalt, and Curtis's abandoned dignity, and me sitting calmly on my front steps, and shook his head. "Warning shot? " he asked. "Warning shot," I confirmed.