My Wife's Li'l Secret (12 page)

“The clipboards!” Bear muttered as he drove up to the search point. “Morning, officer!”

I already had the clipboards on my lap in full view of the cops.

“Morning!” the officer said, his eyes scanning the inside of our ute. “Pull over please.”

“Sure thing!” Bear said after a slight hesitation.  He maneuvered the ute into a search bay.

My worst fears were confirmed; we were going to be searched.

The cops combed our vehicle; inside, outside, underneath...

But without the canines. That was my fear – the canines would join the search and detect the coke in my jacket.

I moved away from the cops and pretended to listen to my voice messages, the corner of my eye watching the cops' every move.

Bear leaned against the ute and watched the cops, trying hard to feign a bored expression. He stretched his arms over his head, then bent to the sides. At no stage did Bear and I make eye contact.

My mouth was dry, my palms were sweaty, and I fought to still my breathing.

After what seemed like hours, the cops finally looked at Bear and uttered the words I had been waiting to hear: “Right you are!”

In a state of shock, Bear and I exchanged a quick, shocked glance, after which, I nodded, while Bear muttered, “Thanks.”

Silently, we got into the ute and drove off. Slowly, carefully, nothing to raise suspicions.

After a few minutes of driving in silence, when we could no longer see the roadblock behind us, Bear turned to look at me.

At first I nodded, then I ducked just in time. His backhand smashed into the passenger’s seat.

I was anticipating that hit, and I was ready for Bear.

“You fucking idiot!” Bear yelled.

“Hey, man, I’m sorry! Seriously!”

“Are you crazy? You steal a dealer’s drugs and they
will
come after you, find you, and string you by the fucking nuts!”

“Yeah, but they don’t know it’s
me
, Bear. They don’t know. Besides, there’s so much coke there, I doubt they will miss this li’l brick. Chill!”

He shook his head and let out a long sigh. “Jayzus, what a crazy bastard you are!”

I nodded. “Crazy and tired. Can you store this?” I asked, my chin jerking toward the coke. I got plans for it.”

After a slight hesitation, he nodded.

Just then my phone lit up. It was Olga again. After putting my finger to my lips, I answered.

“Where are you?” she asked, sounding annoyed and suspicious.

“At work on a job. I’m on my way home.” I hung up before she could say anything more.

She was awake at 5:55 a.m.? Why?

****

Since I was happy with the GPS tracking, I hadn’t placed a spy camera in Olga’s Ford Explorer. But I needed to.

After picking up my Jeep from my place of work, I thanked my brother-in-law for his help, apologized again, dodged another blow from him, and drove home. I parked my Jeep in the garage and eyed the Ford Explorer.

The outside was dirty, which was unusual. Olga loved her Ford and used to keep it spotless in spite of having two kids in the car. Used to. Obviously she’d fallen out of love with her Ford like she’d fallen out of love with me.

The Ford’s door was unlocked. Now’s my chance to install the camera, I thought.

Quietly, I slipped into the Ford and installed the 360 degree spy camera. Just as I finished, Olga walked into the garage.

“What are you doing in my car?” she screeched.

Shit!

She peered at me, a suspicious look on her angry face.

“You left your lights on,” I said. “Your battery…” I threw my hands out in what was supposed to be an air of exasperation. “You need to be more careful, Olga, really!”

She frowned, but said nothing as I brushed past her, muttering about how I had to think of everything around there.

I was exhausted, shaken by the night’s events, and starving. It would be great if she would make me a cup of coffee and a sandwich like she used to do in the past.

But sadly, that wasn’t going to happen. Besides, after what I had seen, she was dirty and I wanted nothing from her.

Instead, at 6:15 a.m., on an empty stomach, I shot a triple whisky and crashed.

****

That same evening, the moment Olga and her lover left the house, I opened my laptop, excited at the thought of being able to see what Olga and Cruikshank was up to and why they left our home. After which I planned to kick them out of my house.

The surveillance was in real time, and I had multiple viewing windows opened at the same time.

I watched Olga and Viggo skip into the house in Dina Street and greet everyone with kisses, hugs, and backslaps. What a warm, loving group of arseholes.

There were about thirty people at the house – some kind of party.

But what floored me was when I watched my wife throw down her purse, roll up a banknote, and snort a line of coke off a glass coffee table. Even before she snorted, she was giggling, probably from …anticipation, I would imagine.

Even though by then I had expected something like this from my wife, learning just how our money was being spent by her, watching her in action – it stunned me.

The harsh truths were, my wife was a druggie, I was an idiot for not suspecting that she was, and the answer to where all my money had gone was staring me in the face.

But wait, it gets worse!

Sometime later, she snorted coke off Cruikshank’s upper thigh in broad view of everyone. Then she sniffed, ran the back of her finger across her nose, and swayed suggestively to the music as she undid his belt in full view of all at the party.

I cringed when I watched my wife, the mother of my two little daughters, kneel before him, take his dick into her mouth, and blow him in front of everyone else. The men pumped their fists in the air, while the ladies clapped and cheered them on, which seemed to spur on Olga and Cruikshank.

Shocked, embarrassed, and in a state of disbelief, I shook my head.

Who the fuck did I marry?

Some of the men played cards while girls pleasured them under the table. Cocaine flowed freely, and the room throbbed with energy.

Some party.

I was totally repulsed by Liefie and furious with Cruikshank. My disbelief had morphed into unbridled fury, and I thought about murdering them both. I swear had they been in front of me, I would have choked the life out of her and took a baseball bat to his thick skull.

The moment had come; I wanted Olga out of my home and never again would I refer to her as
Liefie
. She was nothing like the little treasure I once thought she was.

She was Olga, a fake, a slut, and a con-artist.

I would do my best to raise the kids myself. No drug addict was going to have anything to do with the raising of my kids. She had done enough damage, treated my kids badly, ruined my credit, got me in debt, and ripped away my confidence.

Thirty-six thousand on cocaine. Snorted by her and her ex-husband.

The funny thing was, I had stopped all her credit cards, but she still appeared to have money. How? Could she have a credit card I didn’t know about? The thought of that stumped me.

So desperate was I to get her out of my home, I formulated a plan to kick her out.

I didn’t want her to know about my surveillance just yet, as I needed to keep the cameras rolling.

So I would have to stage things,
catch
her in the act and let her think it was the first time I was seeing them having sex.

I went to bed doing what I'd been doing for a while – plotting.

****

When I arrived home that night, to my utter surprise, the place was spotless, the children were fed and clean, and Olga was cooking!

What. The. Fuck?!

Before I could do anything, she handed me a cold beer and moved to kissed me.

Not with that fucking mouth! Not after I watched you swallow Cruikshank’s cum.

I jerked away.

She frowned at me.

Ignoring the look on her face, I placed the untouched beer on the table and went in search of my kids. I couldn’t take anything from her. She was so deceptive and so dishonest that I started to fear for my safety.

But I had to wonder why she was suddenly cleaning and cooking. There had to be an ulterior motive. What was she up to?

My answer arrived before long. “I need some money,” she said, appearing behind me.

Ah.

“For what?”

She shrugged. “Groceries and …”

Like hell.

But, I played along. “Okay. I’ll stop at the mall. What do you need?”

Her eyes darted all over the place. “Eh…things…stuff…”

“Make a list.”

She stared at me as she slowly rubbed her arms, confusion and a little uncertainty in her eyes.

It was then that I noticed she wasn’t wearing her wedding ring.

“Olga, where’s your wedding ring?” I demanded.

She quickly covered her ring finger with her right hand. “Eh…” She pointed upstairs toward our bedroom, her eyes scudding.

It dawned on me that she no longer had her wedding ring. Probably sold it and bought cocaine.

Five years ago, her ring had cost me eight grand. The rest of her jewelry over the years, probably another ten grand. It wasn’t much, but it was all I could afford on my income.

I noticed she wore none of her other jewelry – the gold chain with a heart she never took off, the diamond stud earrings she always wore, the thin wrist chain with two small gold discs that had the names of our girls engraved on them – none of them

Just then Bear called. Distracted, I answered my phone and lost the opportunity to question her about it.

After I ended the call, I hung up, grabbed the keys to my Jeep and made towards the door. “Back in a couple of hours,” I said. “Emergency at work. Don’t wait up for me.” As if she would.

“Wait!” she called.

Ignoring her, I hurried to my Jeep and instead of driving to the office, I drove to a nearby coffee shop, set up my laptop, and began surveillance on them.

I watched Olga talking to Cruikshank, appearing a little stressed. Judging from his angry expression, she was probably telling him that I wasn’t giving her any cash.

I smiled to myself when he began to throw out his arms and snarl at her. Cruikshank, appearing pissed off, stormed off to his bedroom and locked the door. Olga ran after him, and I watched her bang on the door. He refused to open it, and they argued though the closed door.

Finally, he threw it open and glowered at her. She walked up to him, took him in her arms and kissed him.

I watched my wife push him on the bed and straddle him, remove her top and her bra. After some wild kissing, she unbuckled his belt and pulled down his pants.

Knowing that they were about to have sex, I grabbed my laptop, and with it still running, I raced home.

While I drove, I managed to catch bits of their foreplay.

By the time I arrived home, a glance at my laptop showed Olga and Cruikshank engaged in sex. Downstairs, Becky and Ally sat glued to a Mermaid show on TV.

Turning off my laptop, I parked my Jeep a few doors away, got out, and crept towards my house.

The front door was locked.

I ran around to the back door. Locked.
Damn
!

I tried the laundry door. It was unlocked!
Great
!

Quietly, without alerting my kids that I was home, I took the stairs two at a time.

A locked bedroom door wasn’t going to stop me. I booted it in. It was my house, my door, and it felt great. Like the good old SWAT days.

It flew open after just one boot. Both Olga and Cruikshank froze at the sight of me, at the sight of the broken door.

Faking a look of shock, I shut the room door and dragged a cupboard across it. No need to let my kids enter the room and see their whore of a mother looking like the …
whore
she was.

Olga remained on top of Cruikshank while he stared at me with bulging eyes.

“You fucking your
brother
, Olga?”

With her eyes the size of saucers, she looked at me. “How…how did you..?”

“I tried the door, it was locked,” I said as I slowly circled them, my eyes never leaving their faces. “I thought you were with another man, Olga. I didn’t know you were fucking your
brother
. What…I mean, how…?” I did my best to look surprised and disgusted.

Slowly, she climbed off his dick and put on her top and her shorts, all the while stammering and stuttering. What could she possibly say to me? I had caught her in the act.

Cruikshank lay on his back, his dick limp like a dead bird between his legs.

I looked at him. “Pack,” I snarled. “Now!”

He blinked rapidly, then jumped over, pulled on his shorts and t-shirt and hurried downstairs. I resisted the urge to boot him down the stairs.

Without a word, Olga, looking ashen, left the room.

I followed both of them outside to where Cruikshank was puffing nervously on his cigarette.

“Get the fuck out of my house,” I said to Cruikshank. “Now!”

He didn’t answer, didn’t move, and he wasn’t able to meet my eyes either.

“Where do you want him to go?” Olga demanded, getting her voice back and moving to stand in front of him in a shielding gesture.

“I don’t give a flying fuck where he goes and what he does! Understand, whore?”

Her lips pressed together.

I wagged my finger at her. “As for you, you’re gonna join him.”

“What?”

“I don’t want you here. I’m taking Becky and Ally with me. When I return, I expect both of you to have left this house.”

“You can’t put me out!” she snarled. “This is my house, too.”

I darted my index finger at her. “Go fuck yourself, you dirty WHORE!”

Cruikshank’s head shot up to look at me.

I threw out my arms. “What? You wanna do something? Huh?”

He strode towards me, snarling in Russian, his blue eyes popping out of their sockets.

Now I get to see the real Cruikshank, I thought with an inward smile.

I braced myself. Yeah, sure he was big, tattooed and maybe even scary to some people, but I wasn’t one bit scared of that fucker. In fact, I was cruising for an opportunity to fuck the shit out of him.

He did something that made me grin. He shoved me in the chest.

That was all I needed. I swung at him, catching him in the side of his face. I hit him so hard, my hand hurt.

Olga screeched as Cruikshank staggered, touched his lips, then looked at the blood on his fingers. The surprise on his mug morphed into a malicious smile, and he came at me swinging.

I was so ready for him.

Rage, disappointment, the frustration of being duped, being cheated on, and being scammed rolled and grouped tightly in my fist, which I drove straight into his solar plexus.

So hard, I heard a crack. I followed with a solid left to his temple.

He stumbled, his eyes rolling in his head. I stepped back and waited for him to stand up. Unlike some guys, I fight fair. I wouldn't feel like I’ve won if I didn’t fight fair.

I nodded when he didn’t get to his feet. “That’s right, don’t fuck with –”

A blow to my head brought the floor to my face.

Olga had slammed an oversized ceramic ashtray that could double as a birdbath into the back of my head.

Always one to kick a dying dog, Cruikshank got to his feet and hammered at me while I lay on the floor.

Even though I was seeing not just stars but the whole fucking galaxy, I lashed out with my foot, managed to boot him in the shin and bring him down to my level.

I held him in a chokehold while waiting for the stars around me to disappear. He struggled like a chook in my grasp, but I hung on and punched him several times in the head, hoping to keep him still.

When my head cleared, I punched him again in the head and throat.

When he went rag doll on me, I released him. As I scrambled to my feet, I looked at Olga.

She jerked back, fear in her eyes, the ashtray still in her hand. I followed her a few steps, then hit the ashtray out of her hands. She screamed and ran inside the house. I followed, grabbed her by the hair and spun her around to face me. “You miserable, deceptive whore!” I snarled, my fist poised to strike.

As much as I wanted to punch her, I couldn’t. Hitting a woman was not me. Even though she had hit me.  Even though just about anyone seeing the footage would pardon my hitting her, I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

Instead, I punched the door next to her face, putting a hole in it. “Get the fuck out of here!” I hissed. “NOW!” I released the bitch.

She ducked under my arm and ran upstairs.

A few minutes later, a bloodied Cruikshank staggered inside, his hand on his ribs.

Ignoring my bleeding head, I walked inside my house. When I saw them bring out some suitcases, I nodded.

They’re leaving, I thought. Finally.

It was an enormous sense of relief to know that they weren’t going to be around to torture me anymore. I was removing the splinter from my finger.

Luckily my kids continued watching the mermaids, unaware of the drama surrounding them.

Downstairs I paced, waiting for them to come down with their suitcases.

My pacing was interrupted by a loud knock on my front door. I threw open the door and was surprised to see six cops, all with their hands hovering over their weapons. Behind them were three cop cars and a cop van, all with flashing reds, blues and whites.

“Ritchie MacMillan?” one of them asked.

“Yea..?”

“Turn around and spread your legs!”

“What for?”

“We’ll explain in a short while. Just turn around and spread your legs! NOW!”

Slowly I turned around.

“Do you have any sharp objects in your pockets?”

“No.”

“A firearm? A knife?”

“No!”

He lunged at me and cuffed me. I didn’t resist or argue. I understood how they worked, having been part of their clan some time ago.

Olga appeared, hands folded across her chest, a smug look on her face. Behind her was Cruikshank, a band aid on his temple, his lip split, and his eye swollen. In spite of all that, he was grinning broadly.

Okay, this is how you bastards want to play?

The cops took me outside and sat me down on a low wall. They went inside and talked to Olga and Cruikshank. When they returned about five minutes later, a cop said, “We are placing you under arrest for domestic violence.”

“Why? I just defended myself,” I said. “He shoved me, I reacted. This is my house. My home.”

“No, he didn’t!” Olga spat, appearing with little Becky in her arms and holding Ally’s hand. “You hit him first. And you hit me
too
.
And
you punched the door.
And
you kicked the door in. And you …you accused me of sleeping with my
brother
. How disgusting!” She burst into tears. The alligator kind.

Cruikshank gave her a hug and made a big show of comforting her.

Olga was really convincing. I shouldn’t have been surprised, but I was.

“Is this the first time he’s assaulted you, ma’am?” a dill of a cop asked Olga in a sympathetic voice.

“No, he does it a lot,” she said, sniffing loudly. “I am scared of him. I have two small children, so I don’t know what to do or where to go. Look at him, he’s big like a gorilla. Lucky my brother was here to protect me
this
time.”

“He’s not her brother, he’s her lover,” I hissed.

Olga and Cruikshank exchanged nervous looks.

“Yet, you brought him into your house?” the cop asked in a sneering voice. “Surely you checked before you did?”

I don’t blame the cops for being unsympathetic. Olga suddenly appeared so small and frail compared to me, especially when she strategically had a toddler in one arm and another child clinging to her leg.

My sigh was long and weary. If I told the cops about the footage, I’d blow my investigation, so I shut up.

“We’ve seen the broken door upstairs, the hole in the other door and your brother-in-law’s face. You’re going to jail for all that,” the cop said as he led me to the back of a cop car.

And off to jail I went.

I wanted them out of my house, they wanted me out of my house. This round to them.