The Drive-By Wife, Book 1 by Mike Wells

Author:Mike Wells
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: psychological thriller, obsession, stalker, crime novel, grateful dead, domestic abuse, fatal attraction, deliverance, married couple, truck driver, cape fear, enfatuation, romantic obsession

* * *

At precisely 6 p.m., there was a knock at the back door.

Cynthia was standing at the stove, wearing an apron over the absurd outfit. She had just plucked the last piece of chicken from the frying pan and she placed it in the little wicker basket with the others.

Now she was a nervous wreck. She was so scared her pulse was racing. The dryness in her throat wouldn’t go away.

As she took off the apron, she took a deep breath to steady herself. She stepped over to the door. She pulled the curtain back and peered through the window. It was already dark outside, but she could see the silhouette of a cowboy hat in the dim light.

She took another deep breath, steeled herself, and unlocked the door.

The first thing she noticed was that Billy had changed his appearance. The stringy hair looked like it had been cut quite a bit, and it was slicked back. The beard was no longer bushy, but neatly trimmed. He had on a flannel shirt and a pair of jeans that both looked brand new.

“Hi, darlin’, I’m home!”

Cynthia was so surprised by the change that she momentarily forgot her lines.

Billy patiently waited for her to speak.

“Oh… um, hi honey,” she said awkwardly. She swallowed, willing herself to sound halfway sincere. “I missed you so much!”

“I missed you, too.”

Billy cautiously entered the kitchen, glancing around nervously.

“I’ll-I’ll bet you’re beat from the road,” she said, the pitch of her voice higher than she meant it to be.

“I been thinkin’ about you all week.”

She tried to smile, but it was more of a grimace. “How about a nice, cold beer...sweetheart?” It was difficult to add the last word.

“That’ll be just fine, honey.”

Cynthia shut the door behind him, aware of sweat running down her scalp.

When she turned around, Billy moved startlingly close to her. Looking into her eyes, he said, “He ain’t here, is he?”

“No,” Cynthia said quickly.

Billy did not look away—he just kept peering into her eyes. Her heart seemed to stop. She somehow managed to meet his gaze. He peered up at her hair, then down at the pearl necklace, her dress, her legs and high heels.

He finally smiled, revealing the brown teeth. “You sure are a sight for sore eyes…”

“Th-thank you.”

Billy frowned slightly, and then pressed his lips together. Though she hadn’t meant to, she realized that she must have given a slight cringe at his unsightly smile. She was a little ashamed of herself for that—she hoped she hadn’t hurt his feelings.

Making an effort to stay atop the shoes, Cynthia stepped to the refrigerator and pulled out a can of Budweiser. When she popped the top and handed it to him, she felt like she was living in a rundown trailer. “Why don’t you sit down and make yourself comfortable, honey?”

That was her last line in the script he had written, thank goodness. Yet in the next instant she found herself even tenser—as difficult as it was to recite the lines, it had been a good crutch.

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