The prologue to my NaNoMoWri Novel

I CAN’T STAND HER ANYMORE

by

Joe Thames

Prologue

First, the ambulance arrived at my house flying around the corner with sirens blaring and blue light pulsating. I called 911 because I’d nearly killed my second wife, Lee Thames. She was my ex-wife now. She wouldn’t leave me alone.
I knew the police would follow the ambulance. I went to my computer and printed out a few e-mails that I could use as evidence. Things were going to get nasty around here.
Then I heard the sirens of the squad car, followed by two more. They were coming to arrest me. As bad as that was, at least someone would hear my side of the story.
I sat on the couch while they loaded Lee on a stretcher. I noticed the blood on my knuckles.
After our phone conversation, I had known we were going to have a verbal fight, but never realized how angry she was with me until she attacked me. When she is manic and mad, she is strong and capable of hurting me as much as I am capable of hurting her. I punched her first to prevent a huge knock down drag out fight. I underestimated my strength, because when I hit her, she went down in a slump, unconscious, I prayed.
Neighbors gathered around as the police walked me to the squad car with my hands handcuffed behind me. I figured they thought I’d murdered her. There was always that possibility. She did look dead on that gurney. Part of me was relieved that this might finally be over. I started thinking about what caused me to be in this situation.

I had awakened to a pounding headache and couldn’t tell if the ringing were in my head or actually the phone. I felt like shit. Normally, I don’t drink, but I tied one on last night. My little hot date from LaGrange, sleeping beside me on Lee’s side of the bed, was a Zima addict. Part of my game is to be whatever I need to be in order to score. Last night, her young body wrapped around me, most definitely was a score, except for my hangover this morning.
“Yeah?”
“Joe, I’m in LaGrange and will be at the house in about fifteen minutes.”
“I thought you were in Mobile, what the hell are you doing over in LaGrange? What time did you get to the area?” I was trying to sound cool because I had to get Miss Hot Pants back to LaGrange. On the way, Lee would radar my Jeep if we passed each other. I prayed Lee hadn’t come by our house since we lived more or less on the way to LaGrange from Mobile. Why the hell LaGrange anyway?
“Lee, why are you up this far and over in GA this damn early?” I looked over at the clock and damn if it weren’t ten thirty—not early by my normal standards. I was slipping all the way around today.
“Joe, I’m on to you. I want you to quick deed the house and land to me.”
“Hell, no, Lee, what do you think I am, an idiot?”
“Yup. That’s exactly what I think you are. Actually, you’re a dickhead. Let’s just say that my lawyer explained that it would be in your best interest to go on and quietly sign over the property to me. He knows what you, Ginger and Darryl did on January third.
Yeah, you were sick and couldn’t call me, you fucking lying bastard. My lawyer knows that you cheated on me with a woman and a man. Let’s say that I have proof, legal proof, and I can take you to the cleaners and really ruin what is left of your name. Let’s tie queer onto philanderer.”
Had she gotten into the house and taken digital photos of me with lil Miss Hot Pants this morning? She still had a key to this place, and I was sleeping hard. How did she know about that threesome we panted through two weeks ago? Something told me not to call Lee’s bluff.
“Lee, I overslept and haven’t had my coffee yet. I’ll talk to you when you get here.” I knew I was in the biggest mess of my life with a showdown less than fifteen minutes away.
I walked into the dirty kitchen to make the coffee. Empty bottles of Zima strewn all over the counters and our kitchen table told the tale about last night's seduction. God, Lee was going to get me good. I needed two cups to clear my head enough to deal with getting rid of last night’s wild ride and climbing aboard the worst roller coaster imaginable when Lee got home. While I measured out the coffee, the kitchen smelling like last week’s garbage mixed with the pungent odor of sex, I remembered the time I did underestimate one of Lee’s threats. Back in 1988, I learned better.
The squad car pulled up in front of the Opelika Police Station. The siren’s silence jerked me back into the present. Next, I felt a hand yank me out of the car. I was starting to get scared. They read me my rights, booked me, and finger printed me. Then they took my mug shot. This was a cut and dried case since I was the one who called 911. They took me back into a tiny room to interrogate me. The largest cop sat down opposite me. A female officer walked in. She was blonde with blue eyes and walked opening and closing her mouth as if she were chewing gum. She even swallowed occasionally. But she never smacked and when she smiled, nothing was in her mouth. Her beauty calmed my nerves. I focused on her as the officer started talking to me.
“Now, tell me your name and what happened,” said Officer Carney.
“Joe Thames. I’ve got plenty of reason to do what I did. It was self-defense, and it’s a long story.”
“Go ahead. Talk. We’ve got all night. I’m taping this conversation.”
“Lee told her side of the story, and she totally lied about being so innocent. I’m no saint, but I have to straighten up those misconceptions. The woman nearly killed me once with a gun back in 1998. Then she writes a book and does kill my good name. All of our married life, I acquiesced to her. I didn’t make trouble or stand up to her. But this is one time she is not going to get away with smearing me in public. I can’t sit back and let her get away with her lies.”