Page 16 of Cautious Love

I grab my can of red spray paint and head into the living room first. Setting the can on the coffee table, I take his guitar off its stand next to the sofa. It hurts like a bitch, but I swing that thing as if I’m at bat and about to hit a home run out of the park. It cracks so I swing again and again; adrenaline zings through my veins and I hardly feel my ribs ache. Luckily, I just fractured three.

That’s okay, I’ll shatter his guitar instead.

The strings ting and twang as I smash it. When I’m satisfied, I toss it on the couch in pieces and grab my spray paint.

Last year, when Grey went on a hunting trip with his friends, he somehow got a six-point buck. I have never seen a man so proud of a typical buck. He got home and sent the head right to the taxidermist.

My father hunted as a way to put food on the table for us, but he never wanted to put a deer head in our house.

Grey was determined, and he didn’t care if I didn’t like it. Like his truck, it’s one of his prized possessions. It won’t be now.

I shake the can of spray paint, as directed, and start spraying over its eyes like a bandit, then its ears, and give it a red hairdo, and get the wood it’s mounted to.

When I’m satisfied, I cap the can and move on to my next thing. I open the cabinet he keeps a bag of tools, finding a drill and grab a long, skinny bit, then move outside.

He keeps a small and expensive trout boat, which he’s obsessed with, in the back next to the shed. Circling the boat, I pick out my spots. Little places he won’t see until it’s too late. Angling the drill into the side of the boat, I hit it so it can gain some grip and squeeze the trigger until it’s through the hull of the boat in a dark corner.

I find a couple of other places and checked them from the inside. Unless you’re looking for the holes, you won’t see it until water is already filling the interior. Perfect. I blow across the drill like I just fired a gun and smile to myself.

After I put the drill back, I pull all his TV dinners out, unwrap them, and toss them all into the sink where he’ll find the defrosted sludge.

When I’m done with that, I grab my box of snappers I played with as a kid. We threw them on the street and they’d make a ‘pop’ sound like a mini firework. A perfect size to put under a toilet seat. So when he gets home, he’ll probably take a really long dump and hopefully, I’ll scare it right out of him.

I smile to myself, placing half the box strategically around the edge of the bowl, and put the seat back down because he never lifts it, and inspect my handy work. Unless he’s really paying attention, he won’t know until it’s too late, and I doubt he will because he always comes back three sheets to the wind.

Finished with the inside, I grab my bag and head back outside for the finishing touches. There’s a lot of things Grey loves; I thought for a time I was on that list. It doesn’t matter that I was wrong, but I sure as hell will make sure I ruin all the things onthat list, and the last is that stupid truck. He couldn’t wait to add upgrades to it. Now, he’ll have to tack on a new paint job and tires too.

I lock the door behind me, take my keys out of my purse, and walk along the side of the truck. The awful sound of metal against metal fills my ears as I go all the way around. I make sure to do three lines across each side and then draw a flower on the back tailgate. Then I pull out my can of red spray paint and look around again. I don’t see anyone, and if anyone is watching me out the window, oh well. I shake the can and spray his rims, his windows, and where I keyed it. Though it’s hard to reach, I angle the spray, so it blows back onto the windshield. Eventually the can rattles empty, so I toss it and pull the knife out of my purse. I stop and try to catch my breath for a minute. My body is on fire, but I keep telling myself I can rest later. I have a job to do.

Opening my knife, I shove it into the tire. When I pull it out, the air starts wheezing out of the rubber, and I move on to the next one. For this one, I don’t simply put a hole in it, but I saw my way through the rubber. I intentionally bought this knife with a sharp serrated blade to get through the tire. When I finish with that one, it’s all I can do to put a hole in the other two. Sweaty and out of breath, I smile at my handy work and walk back to my car, but another idea comes to me, and it feels almost poetic.

Because it’shis bat.

I toss my bags into the car and grab the baseball bat I took with me.

Going back to his truck, I take a deep breath and swing into the taillights. Then I move to the front and swing into each of those, and for good measure, and it hurts so bad my vision tunnels for a moment, I put sizable dents into the doors.

Sweat drips down my face, and the pain is about to bring me to my knees, but I smile at the art and head back to my car. BeforeI get in, I spot my old neighbor, Maise. She smiles and waves at me, and I wave back at her before driving away.

If only I could be there to see the look on his face when he gets home.

Chapter 6

Ledger

WhenIwalkintothe station the next morning, Daisy has an odd look on her face and Luke is grinning widely.

I stop in my tracks, looking between them. “Look, if both of you are a thing, that’s fine, but not in the office, okay?”

“What?” Daisy shrieks.

“Boss, no, that’s…” Luke trails off.

“Okay, then what’s with the weird looks? Spit it out.”

Daisy smiles widely and covers her mouth as she giggles.

“Okay, I’ll tell him,” Luke says.