He didn't really know what made him finally do it. Maybe it was the way she sneered at him, still demanding more money. Maybe it was the way she had reached for the phone, as she had so many times before, to call for her lawyer(the lawyer he paid for) to demand he shred him, to steal more money he didn't have so that she could move to the upper, 'classier' part of town.
Jake needs braces, he had said. He thought he had said. Maybe he didn't. It wasn't as if he could remember, anyway. It was really of no consequence now, though.
Then cough up the money for that, Allen, but I need to get away.
He wondered why he could still hear his ex wifes voice. He thought that pulling the trigger would have ended that; would have spared him from having to listen to her patronizing, mocking voice ring in his ears as he tried tried tried to get the money to give her everything she asked for, even if she hated him. Even if they were divorced.
Even if she'd fucked every single male that came within a twelve foot radius of her just minutes after the divorce was finalized.
You're too caring for your own good, Allen.
One of these days, the Satan-bitch is gunna suck you dry, and what'll you do then?
Oh... That's right. What was he going to do? How was he going to explain this when the police arrived?
Why were there so many sirens?
He glance in irritation as the someone pounded on the door, taking a monogrammed handkerchief from his breast pocket and gently, almost lovingly, wiping the blood from the revolver.
When the doors burst open, and the police lined the room and aimed, screaming for him to freeze, don't move!, he almost wanted to laugh.
"No one's moving," He said cheerfully, still stroking the gun with the now-stained handkerchief. "Nope nope, no one at all."