-1Prologue:
A thick layer of snow blanketed the city, a drop in temperature having transformed showers into flurries the night before. The chill in the air was shiver inducing. It seemed that no amount of clothing was enough to ward off the frigid temperatures. It was a typical February in Philly and Richard Miller hated every bone chilling minute of it.
Muttering a string of obscenities under his breath, Richard slowly dragged his tired body up the snow covered steps that lead to the front door of his modest home. Sighing in exhaustion, he pushed open the unlocked door and entered the cramped foyer.
"Honey, is that you?" The shrill voice of his wife rang out from the kitchen.
"Of course it's me," He replied gruffly, bending over to remove his boots and wincing when he heard the bones in his knees crack. "You expecting someone else?"
"No." She responded, ignoring his sarcasm as she stepped into the hallway and helped him remove his jacket. She placed a kiss on his cheek before turning to hang his things on the coat rack beside the door. "Although, Jeffery did call to say he might pop in for a visit."
"Great," Richard sneered at the mention of his son's name before turning his back on her and retreating into the living room. He eased himself down onto the warn couch and sighed in relief as his tired muscles finally began to relax. "The only time that ingrate darkens our doorstep is when he needs more money and I can tell ya right now, he ain't getting another dime outta me!"
"He's a good boy, Richard." His wife argued, walking back into the kitchen to finish getting dinner ready. "He just needs a little help."
"He needs to get a damn job, that's what he needs." Richard declared, turning on the t.v. to try and drown out any further commentary from his wife.
"You know how hard things have been for him since Sarah and the kids left," his wife continued to defend their only child. Richard sighed in frustration and turned up the volume. "After everything he's been through…"
"Everything he's been through?!" Richard shouted, switching off the useless television and throwing the remote across the room. "The dumbass gambled away every penny he ever earned! Is it really surprising that his wife ran off to try and find a real man?"
"Maybe I should have done the same thing." Richard heard his wife mutter under her breath as she placed his dinner down on the t.v. table in front of him.
"What did you say?" Richard asked, his voice low and dripping with indignant rage.
"Nothing," she said timidly, avoiding his heated gaze. "I didn't say anything." She barely had the words out before Richard abruptly leapt up from the couch, carelessly knocking over the t.v. table. He watched helplessly as the steaming hot bowl of soup spilled down his wife's slender legs. She yelped in pain and Richard reached out to silence her, covering her mouth with his sweaty palm.
"Shut the fuck up!" he hissed demandingly. "It was an accident! Jesus Christ, you would think I'd poured acid down your back or something the way you're carrying on." He waited until she stopped shaking before removing his hand from her mouth. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah." She said softly, hiccupping as her body was wracked with another sob.
"Good." Richard replied. Then without warning, he raised his right hand and punched her in the face. She fell to the floor, curling her body into a fetal position to try and protect herself from any further attacks. "Don't you ever speak to me like that in my own home, you got that?" Richard declared angrily, waiting until he saw her nod. He sighed in exasperation. "If you want to leave so badly, you know where the door is. I don't need to be dealing with this shit anymore, Joanna. I'm almost 65 years old for fuck sakes." He stepped over her and walked back into the hallway.
"I'm going down to The Tavern for a bit," Richard announced as he slipped his jacket back on. It was still cold. "And if that little bastard ever shows up, don't even think about letting him in." And with that, Richard left the warmth of his home and ventured back out into the cold.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Bob's Tavern
"What can I get for you?" A perky voice interrupted Richard's wayward thoughts as he sat atop a barstool in his favorite after work hang out. He looked up in surprise, a lascivious smile spreading across his face when he saw who the voice belonged to.
"You're new." Richard declared, looking the attractive young bartender up and down in appreciation. She couldn't be a day over 21.
"Yep." She replied cheerfully, a blush crept across her cheeks when he continued to stare at her. "So, do you want a drink or something?"
"Gimmie a sec, I'm just admirering the view." Richard said, his gaze level with her chest. She really was a pretty girl. Bright blue eyes, long blonde hair and a body to die for. Just the type of hot little slut he used to like to have fun with when he was younger. He sighed, feeling nostalgic all of a sudden. "Get me a beer, sugar."
"Draft or bottle?" the blonde asked, visibly relieved to no longer be the object of his scrutiny for the moment.
"Surprise me." He replied, grinning at her mischievously. He studied her as she reached into the cooler and pulled out a bottle of Bud Light. "So, where's Bob?"
"Uncle Bob had to go to a meeting with one of his suppliers," She explained, placing the opened bottle in front of him on the bar. "He'll be back soon."
"Uncle Bob, huh?" Richard said curiously, bringing the bottle to his lips and taking a drink. "So, you must be Amber then."
"Nope, Amber's my big sister. I'm Amy." She replied distractedly, moving out from behind the bar to start clearing off some of the tables that were littered with empty bottles. Holy shit, Richard thought to himself as he took another sip of his beer. Bob talked about his nieces all the time and Richard remembered him boasting about Amy being the valedictorian at her high school graduation a few months ago. She was barely 18!
Richard felt himself harden at the thought of being with a young, sexy woman again. Turning around in his chair, he watched the young girl move about the room. The short skirt she wore clung to her behind in all the right places. As she made her way over to the table that was closest to where he sat, Richard couldn't help but reach out to see if her ass felt as good as it looked.
"Hey! What the hell do you think you're doing?" The young girl shrieked, quickly turning around and staring at Richard in disgust.
"Woah, take it easy. I was just…"
"Being an old perv? Yeah, that's what you were doing." Amy sneered, angrily glaring at the elderly man. "I think you should leave. Now."
"You can't kick me outta here." Richard stated, getting up from his seat to stand in front of her defiantly. "I've been coming to this tavern since before you were born."
"Yeah, well once I tell my uncle about this he'll never let you step foot in here again." Amy declared confidently, her bravado faltering slightly when Richard took a step towards her. She glanced around the bar and Richard smiled to himself when she finally realized what he already knew. The exceptionally frigid weather had kept most people indoors that night. They were alone in the bar.
"I'm not going anywhere, sugar." Richard leered, taking another deliberate step towards the frightened young girl. "And if you don't want men looking at you like you're a little slut, then maybe you should stop dressing like one." Richard had her backed up against the table, grinning lasciviously when he realized that she was paralyzed with fear. This was going to be too easy.
"What's going on?" A familiar voice rang out across the room causing Richard to take a step back.
"Uncle!" Amy said, relief washing over her face as she ran to where her uncle stood just inside the doorway. "This old creep has been harassing me all night," she explained, glaring at Richard in disgust. "He even grabbed my ass!"
"Richard," Bob said disbelievingly. "Is this true?"
"Of course not!" He lied. "She's blowing the whole thing outta proportion. Typical broad, eh?" Richard joked, recalling the many nights he and Bob had spent together complaining about the women in their lives and the female sex in general.
"Amy, would you go put these in the back room for me." The bartender instructed his niece, handing her the three bottles of premium vodka he'd just purchased.
"But uncle…"
"Just do it!" He yelled sternly and she hurried off without another word.
"She's quite the little back-talker, ain't she?" Richard chuckled, impressed with the other man's ability to keep the feisty young girl in line.
"Yeah," Bob replied distractedly, his gaze never faltering as he stepped behind the bar.
"Boy, am I glad you're back." Richard sighed, sitting back down on the barstool. "Don't get me wrong, that niece of yours is a real looker, but her bartending skills leave a lot to be desired…" Without warning, Bob reached across the bar and grabbed Richard by the collar, hauling him out of his seat until they their faces were mere inches apart.
"I don't ever want to see you in here again, you got that old man?" Bob sneered threateningly.
"What?" Richard choked out in confusion. "You actually believe what that little bitch said?!" Bob's grip tightened, causing Richard to gasp for air. "I never touched her!"
"Bull shit!" Bob exclaimed. "I know what you're like, Richard. I never would have let Amy work here alone tonight if I'd known you'd be here."
"Bob, I'm hurt that you think so little of me." Richard taunted him sarcastically. "I thought we were friends."
"Yeah, well you thought wrong." Bob sneered. He abruptly let go of Richard's collar and chuckled as the old man fell backwards, almost landing on his ass. "Now, get the fuck outta here."
"You're gonna regret this, Bob." Richard muttered as he lifted himself up off the floor, wincing as he heard his bones crack in protest. He was getting too old for this. "Been comin' here nearly all my life and this is the thanks I get. I should just…" Richard stopped in mid sentence when something over Bob's shoulder caught his attention. "Hey, turn that up for a minute."
"What part of 'get the fuck out of here' didn't you understand?" Bob replied, ignoring the old man's request.
"Come on, I just wanna check my numbers and then I'll leave." Richard promised. Bob looked at him skeptically for a moment before relenting. He picked up the remote and turned up the volume on the small television set situated above the bar.
"Thanks, man." Richard muttered under his breath. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a handful of crumpled up lottery tickets and placed them down on the bar.
"I thought your son was the big gambler in the family?" Bob commented absentmindedly.
"They're not all mine," Richard explained distractedly as he focused on memorizing the winning lottery numbers as they flashed across the screen. "Bought them as a group through work."
"They trusted you with their money?" Bob said condescendingly. "Not too bright are they."
"You're a riot, Bob. A real riot." Richard grumbled, still checking his numbers. "Why don't you just…Holy shit!"
"What?" The bartender asked in confusion. Richard's eyes widened in excitement as he glanced down at the winning ticket in his hand.
"Holy shit!" Richard repeated, leaping up from the barstool and grabbing his coat off the rack. "I can't fucking believe this!"
"What, did you win five bucks or something?" Bob teased unenthusiastically, dismissing the old man's excitement.
"You're gonna get your wish my friend cuz I sure as hell won't be stepping foot in this hell hole again." Richard declared, a smile plastered to his face as he practically skipped towards the front door. "See ya around!" And with that, Richard headed back out into the cold. Only this time the frigid temperature didn't faze him as visions of sandy white beaches, expensive cars and scantily clad women danced in his head.
Xxxxxxxxxxxx
Miller Residence
"Twenty million dollars." Joanna Miller repeated for the umpteenth time since her husband had burst through the door with the good news hours earlier. "What on earth are we going to do with that kind of money?"
"What do you mean we?" Richard sneered as he lie awake in bed beside his wife, both of them far too excited to sleep. "It's my money, not yours."
"Yes, of course it is. I only meant…"
"Yeah, I know what you meant." Richard said bitterly. "You haven't worked a day in your life and now you think you're automatically entitled to my winnings?!"
"I'm sorry." She apologized, her body tensing in anticipation of the moment when he would once again start using her as a human punching bag. But instead, Richard surprised her and himself by turning over and wrapping his arms around her slender waist.
"Stop apologizing. You're always apologizing." He said softly, his warm breath tickling her as he whispered in her ear. "You know I love you, right?"
"Yeah, I know." She replied, relishing the tenderness in his voice that appeared so infrequently.
"I know I can be a prick sometimes, but things are gonna be better from now on. I promise." Richard declared sleepily, placing a kiss on his wife's cheek. Snuggling closer together, he sighed in contentment as sleep finally claimed them both.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxx
3:28am
The sound of shattering glass pierced through the quiet night, abruptly waking the elderly couple from their sleep.
"What was that?" Joanna asked her equally startled husband.
"How the hell should I know!" Richard replied, the tenderness in his voice that had been present earlier having morphed back into its usual mix of irritation and anger.
"It sounded like it came from the living room." She continued, already starting to get out of bed to go investigate.
"Where do you think you're going?" Richard asked, causing her to stop dead in her tracks. "What if it's a burglar? What are you gonna do then?"
"I dunno." She admitted timidly. Richard sighed in frustration and tiredly got out of bed.
"You wait here, I'll go check things out." He instructed her, slipping on his warn robe and walking out of the bedroom.
"Please be careful, Richard." His wife called out after him, but he ignored her. As he neared the living room, Richard felt the drop in temperature. Shivering uncontrollably, he pulled his robe tighter around his body to protect himself against the chill. Reaching out to turn on the light, his tired eyes took in the scene in front of him. Someone had thrown a brick through the window, the cold air seeping in through the now broken glass. The brick lay in the middle of the living room floor, surrounded by shards of glass. Richard glanced at it in contempt.
"Honey, what's going on?" His wife yelled from the bedroom, her voice full of concern.
"Some little shit tossed a brick through the window." Richard explained, already slipping on his winter jacket.
"Should I call the police?" She asked, walking into the living room to survey the damage herself.
"What the hell are the police gonna do?" He said bitterly, quickly stuffing his feet into his boots before heading towards the front door. "I'll handle it myself."
"Richard, no. Please don't, it could be dangerous!" His wife pleaded with him.
"Just shut up and stay inside." Richard instructed her gruffly before opening the door and walking out into the cold night air.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"Come out, come out wherever you are!" Richard yelled tauntingly as he started making his way down the deserted street in search of the culprits. "It's gonna take more than a brick through a window to intimidate Richard Miller, you got that!" He yelled out confidently. Just then, he heard a rustling sound coming from the alleyway beside his house. He grinned triumphantly, walking into the dark alley to confront the cowards.
"Didn't anyone ever teach you punks never to stay at the scene of the crime?" Richard chuckled at their incompetence. Slowly, he walked further into the alley towards a large cardboard box that was leaning up against the side of his neighbor's house. It moved slightly, emitting another rustling noise. Intent on surprising the wannabe criminals, without warning Richard raised his foot and kicked the box with all his might. A loud screeching sound pierced the night air as a stray cat jumped out from behind the box and ran further into the alleyway, disappearing into the darkness.
"Fucking cat." Richard mumbled in frustration, angry that his search had come up empty. Sighing in resignation, he turned and started walking back towards the street. He didn't notice the dark figure standing behind him hidden in the shadows. He didn't hear the footsteps as the figure slowly crept up behind him and bashed in his skull.
Richard's lifeless body fell to the ground, his blood staining the pristine snow.
