Chapter 3: Rob continues his story

Rob here: Let me get back and tell you what happened the day of the divorce.

I found out that this prick, Brian, was still bothering Brenda. I still loved Brenda; I just couldn't be married to her. I was pissed when Joyce called me and said this asshole still bothered Brenda and she didn't want anything to do with him. I told her I'd take are of it.

You need to know that I don't talk to Brenda very often since I moved out. I loved her too much and was afraid I'd go back to her and I didn't want to be a cuckold husband who couldn't trust his wife.

I signed the divorce papers and left before she showed up with her lawyer. We had a decent agreement. She kept the house and, of course, the girls stayed with her. I had access to my daughters anytime I wanted. I saw them all the time and after the divorce, I kept in touch with them nearly daily. I paid child support but didn't pay any alimony. Brenda got paid well in her job. My kids did not go without. In fact, I probably bought them too much.

Anyway, after signing the divorce papers I was really pissed and felt down. I decided to go see this asshole who was responsible for my divorce. I had previously found out where he lived, and found some information on what he drove and where he hung out.

I called his home and his wife told me he was at the main office and wouldn't be home until the next day. I thanked her and hung up. That meant he was in my town. I found out what motel he usually stayed at when in town and, of course, I knew the bars and lounges in the area.

He had never met me unless it was at one of the parties while he was at State. I went into the lounge of the motel he was staying at. I had seen his car parked on the side of the building where the trash dumpsters were kept. There was a back exit to the lounge there. I figured that if he picked up a woman, he could make a quick exit without being seen by too many people.

I ordered a beer and sat at a corner table. The place had a lot of people in it. I was wondering if this Brian fellow was one of them. I lucked out when I saw a couple come in. I heard the bartender say, "Hello, Mr. Cooter, welcome back. What can I get for you and the little lady?"

So here he was with another woman. They sat at a table not far from me. I watched as he was making small talk with this woman. I noticed she had a wedding ring on her finger. I also knew it wasn't his wife since she told me not more than an hour ago that he was out of town.

By the conversation, it sounded like he was talking business, but at the same time trying to hit on this young married woman. I decided it wasn't going to go his way tonight. I finished my second beer and walked out the back exit. On my way past his car, I kicked it enough to make the car alarm go off. I then went and hid next to the dumpster where I found a nice two by four about four feet long.

The alarm must have gone off for five minutes before Brian came out to check it. He hit the button on his key chain and the alarm shut off. He turned to go back in but it was an exit only. He was getting ready to go around the building when I hit him across the back with the two by four. He went down and I kicked him again and again. I had put on some leather gloves earlier and I reached down and worked him over. When I got done with him, his face was a mess. I ended the assault by giving him a foot in the groin. I was fairly sure he never got a good look at me.

He wouldn't be having any more kids or using that part of his anatomy for quite a while if at all. I threw the two by four in the dumpster and walked away and got in my truck. For all I knew he was dead and I really didn't care.

When I got home from work the next day my phone was ringing off the hook. I answered it and it was Brenda. "Rob, please tell me it wasn't you."

"Brenda?" I asked questioningly. "Why are you calling me? What are you talking about, was it me? I have no idea what you're talking about. Are you okay? Do you need something?"

She just started talking. "Brian was nearly beaten to death yesterday. He was still unconscious today and they had to do surgery before he would lose his ... you know."

"What the fuck does that have to do with me? I hope the motherfucker dies a slow death. I have no sympathy for the cocksucker. He's your fucking lover, not mine."

"Rob! He's not my lover. I don't like him either. I was just afraid that if you were involved you might get in trouble. Believe me; I'm not worried about him."