Deadly Sins

Chapter 14: Truth Exposed

John's POV

Frustration fills my every vein as I get Maryse's voice mail for the tenth time in a row. I can't deal with this shit. I've tried calling her all morning and have gotten nowhere. I don't know what suddenly came over her. I told her she was my girlfriend and then out of nowhere the next day she's gone. It's like she vanished from town. She wasn't at her house when I stopped by and she's not answering any of my calls. I don't know where she is or if she's even okay.

I ride the elevator to my floor and step out. I shove my phone in my pocket as I make my way to my office. I open the door to find Maryse standing in front of my desk with a paper in her hands. She jumps upon my entrance. Relief floods over me knowing that she was safe and sound. She stares at me like a deer in the highlights. "Maryse, where did you go? I..."

"Here." She practically throws the paper into my hands giving me just a second to glance it over before she closes the box lid. My heart drops as I read the first line.

Mr. Cena,

I have enjoyed the opportunity you've supplied me with here at your firm but it is with great regret that I have to inform you that I have decided to go another direction in my career and my life.

I shake my head in disbelief and denial. "What is this?" She stares back at me with hurt plastered all over her face. "What…?"

She holds her hand up telling me to talk to her hand. "I'm leaving." She states forcefully.

Leaving me or leaving this job? I don't get it. What did I do? She grabs another empty box and starts filling it with her belongings from her desk. "Maryse, hold on." She completely ignores my words. I grow desperate as she finishes that box and starts on the last. "I demand you to stop." I order her.

She spins around to face me with a look that I can only describe as pure hate. "Don't you dare try to order me around like I'm some kind of dog. I'm not your bitch, Cena. I resigned. You're not my boss anymore. Now excuse me." She turns her back to me and places her name plate into the box.

"What's this all about?" I hold the two-week's notice up as confusion clouds my judgment. "Why are you quitting on me?"

"Because I'm a free woman and I can do whatever the hell I please." She states relentlessly as she grabs hold of a box. "I'll be back up for my other boxes. Don't be here when I get back." She commands me on her exit. I stare blankly at the letter in my hands trying to sort this mess out. How did it come to this? What did I do to cause her to just up and leave like this?

I sulk into the men's rest room and wash my face with cold water. I peek at my own reflection through the glass and watch as all the little droplets of water fall from my face. Why is Maryse doing this? I don't get it. We were just fine last night. I even agreed to be her boyfriend. That's what she wanted and I went along with it because I wanted to make her happy. All I want is to please her. I do my damn best to keep her cheerful and content. A woman like her is a one in a lifetime chance. There's no way I want to screw it up with her… but it seems like I've already done so.

I finally return to my office twenty minutes later to find Maryse still there packing up. I stall at the door cautiously not wanting to intrude. She made it pretty clear she didn't want anything to do with me. She glances back at me and rolls her eyes to find me watching her. "I thought I told you not to be here."

"I thought you would have left by now." I explain my presence to her.

"Well, I'm not. So get out." She snaps back at me without even looking my way.

I can't believe this shit. I'm not going to leave MY office for her. I tried to give her some space and she's still acting like I'm out to get her. I haven't anything to her for her to treat me this way. "I'm not going anywhere. This is my office and if I remember correctly, you quit."

She rolls her eyes again at my blatant disobedience. "Whatever. I'm not fighting with you."

"I don't wanna fight either. Let's just talk about this." I grab her by the wrist trying to figure out this situation. She spins back around to face me with hatred beaming from her eyes. She swats at me in the process but I dodge her little attack just in time. "Hey, cool it."

"Don't. Touch. Me." She grits between her teeth as she points her finger in my face invading my personal space. I take a step back not liking how close her finger is to my nose.

"What's your problem? Huh? Why are you acting like this?" My tone comes off a little too harsh for even my own liking but I can't help it. She's aggravated with me for some reason I don't even understand and it's starting to piss me off. I take a step closer to her the second she lowers her hand and we have a slight standoff in silence. She's not backing down and neither am I.

She jams her finger into my chest pushing me back from her in the process. "Fuck you, that's why."

Fuck you? What? I watch in disbelief as she continues to pack her belongings. "Why are you saying that? What the hell is your problem?"

She bangs her box down onto her chair and folds her arms in front of her chest as she gives me a look of distrust. "You really don't know?"

"No, I don't. If I did we wouldn't even be having this conversation right now. I mean, we were fine just last night…"

"Yeah, those were my exact thoughts last night, Cena…." She directs her attention to something on the floor before continuing. "I heard you two... Do you think I'm deaf?" Her face twists into an even angrier one if that was possible. My heart drops. Fuck… she heard me and Trish? Well, damn. That explains everything. No wonder she's so pissed. I'd completely forgotten about the whole thing to be honest. Shit, how could I be so stupid? Doing that with Trish when Maryse is just a few feet from our room. I wouldn't have done that to Trish and I should have had the same consideration for Maryse.

I take a second to cool down before proceeding. "Look… I'm sorry…"

"You're only sorry you got caught." She grabs her box and heads toward the door. I step in front of her blocking her exit. "Move."

I shake my head in denial. "No. You're an adult and that means you can't run away from your problems. You need to face them head on."

She slams her box down hard on the cabinet housing my files. "You're such a fucking hypocrite. I'm not running from anything. You're the one with the issues. You can't face your own problems, Cena. You're the one that runs from them. Should I remind you why we're in this situation to begin with?" I roll my eyes knowing exactly what was about to come. "You have marital issues and instead of talking those through with your wife, you run away and start cheating like the coward you are." The vein on her forehead pulsates against her skin showing physical signs of just how livid she is. "So don't you dare stand there and tell me whose running from their problems. Now. Move." Ouch. Her words sting my feelings. Am I that much of a jackass? Is that really how people look at me?

She tries to push past me but I hold my stance. "No. We need to talk about this." Despite her negative attitudes toward me I know she cares about me. If I can salvage this relationship then I'm gonna every length I have to.

"No. No. No." She shakes her head viciously side to side. "I'm tired of listening to you and your lies. I'm through with you…"

I've been known to take risks my whole life. Hell, being involved with Maryse is the biggest risk I've ever taken. I haven't regretted it a second since this became more than just sex. She's my best friend and lover. I can't let her walk out of my life. Not like this. I grab a hold of her wrists holding her in front of me looking her directly in the eyes with as much sincerity as I can muster up. "No, you're not. I refuse to let you just walk out on me. Not like this. Just give me a chance to explain myself to you. I had a moment of weakness. Please, let me take you out and make up for it. We can talk more about this and get it settled."

She searches my eyes and for a second I have hope that she's coming to her senses. "No, John. I don't want to hear anything you have to say." I can read the hate and distrust in her hazel eyes. I've really hurt her this time.

"Maryse, please... I know I'm a bastard. I'm a jackass. I don't deserve you and I know that. Just… hear me out." I plead with her. "Let me buy you some dinner and take you to that new casino you've wanted to go to. And at the end of the night if you still feel this way toward me then fine. You're free to go and I won't try and stop you. You just mean too much to me for me to let it end like this. Come on, I'm a desperate man here. Don't make me beg."

Her eyes search mine for what seems like an eternity before she sighs. "John, no. Okay? I don't want anything to do with you and you need to get that through your thick skull. My answer is no and it's not going to change. Leave me alone. I'm not playing around. Stay away from me." She puts her hand up telling me to keep back but I can't help myself. I can't lose her. I grab her by the wrist and pull her against my body.

"Maryse, listen to me…" She squirms and wiggles trying to get out of my grasp.

"No! Leave me alone. I fucking hate you." She shoves me forcefully back. I clash against my desk hard from her shove too dazed at her words to stop myself from stumbling backward. I gawk at her astonished at her harsh words. I'm hurt. Not only does she hate me but she nearly kicked my ass. She glares back at me without remorse. Officer Moore and Officer Hinkle arrive outside my door with intent burning in their eyes.

"Miss. Ouellet?" Hinkle booms.

"What?" Maryse's barks right back obviously irritated by our quarrel.

Officer Moore steps aside letting the entrance to the corridor open. "Please come with us downtown. It's time for your official statement."

"And if I refuse to go?" She asks them with attitude leaking on every syllable.

"Then Luke goes free." Moore explains to her. Maryse huffs and puffs before throwing her hands up in defeat and heading toward the elevators. I slink in before the doors close. Maryse's eyes widen upon my admission.

"What are you doing?" She whispers to me as the doors close and the cage descends.

"I'm going with. He attacked me too, you know." Without saying a word Maryse relays to me that her level of dissatisfaction with me is beyond repair.

I stare through the one way mirror at the man who almost took not only Maryse's life, but Trish's and my own. Luke sits in the interrogation room looking around anxiously. He taps his fingers on the edge of the table nervously. His eyes are blood shot and his clothes are tattered and bloody. A dark maroon color emblazes the front of his jeans on his right pant leg. That must be where I shot him. I knew I hit him I just didn't know where. Those are the same clothes he was wearing the other day as well. I can't believe this guy hasn't changed his clothes in almost a week. God, he must smell awful. He looks intoxicated.

I glance at Maryse as she gapes at her attacker through the glass. "He can't see me, can he?" She looks up to me for an answer.

I shake my head. "No, he can't. It's like a mirror for him in there. We can see him but he can't see us." Officer Moore enters the observation room with a clipboard.

"No, he can't see you Miss. Ouellett. Now, we're going to send Officer Hinkle in there to question him. Before we do that we need your legal statement. Is that man, Luke Copper, the man who assaulted you on the night of May 23rd, 2014?"

"Yes, that's him." Maryse lowers her eyes to the floor upon answering Hinkle's question.

"And he's the same man who stalked and then tried to attack you again, on May 26th, correct?" Maryse nods silently.

"And is he the same man who shot you, Mr. Cena?"

"Yeah."

"Alright. Forensics tested his clothing and the blood on him matches your DNA, ma'am tying him directly to the first assault. We caught him the second time so all of this evidence is admissible in court. So, before we go any further with this, would you like to press charges?"

"Yes."

"And you?" Hinkle glances at me. I nod in agreement. I'd love nothing more than to see this guy fry for what he's done to poor Maryse, Trish, and myself.

Hinkle clicks his pen and hands it to Maryse. "I just need you to sign here, here, and here." He points to a few spots on the paper and Maryse gives her signature where needed. "And you, sir." Maryse hands me off the pen and I sign next to her name in each designated spot. I hand the pen back to Hinkle and he clicks it shut as he stuffs it back into the front pocket of his shirt. "Alright. Just stand tight while we have a little chat with our perp." Hinkle exits the room and we watch through the glass as he and Moore enter the room with Luke.

I place my hand on Maryse's shoulder as Moore and Hinkle start their interrogation on Luke. Maryse pivots her shoulder out of my grasp. What's gotten into her? I didn't do anything to her for her to be acting like this. "What's wrong? You okay?" I try to place my hand on her shoulder again but she once more reels out of my clasp. "Are you mad at me…?" Before I can get a response chaos erupts in the interrogation room.

Luke jumps from his seat and attacks Hinkle. Moore immediately pulls out his mace and lets Luke get what's coming to him. Luke thrashes to the floor shouting in agony as he claws at his face. Hinkle climbs to his own feet and aids Moore in restraining the crazed addict. A few other officers rush into the room and help with the apprehension. They start to drag Luke out of the room and he screams obscenities every inch of the way. Maryse and I exit the room watching the showdown as it progresses into the hallway.

Luke breaks free and charges at Maryse. She yells in terror as I step in between her and the mad man. Luke swings at me but I dodge his attack. Officers jump on him pinning him to the ground then hoist him up and slog him off. "I'm not done with you! You bitch!" Luke spits at Maryse hitting me in the process as he's being dismissed.

"Fucking lunatic." I wipe my face in disgust. His saliva smells like death. When's the last time this guy brushed his teeth? Jesus Christ. It's awful. I turn to face Maryse and she looks as if she's about to burst into tears. Luke continues to struggle against the restraints of the officers as they attempt to drag him off somewhere. Luke slumps to the floor giving the officers an even harder time restraining him. All of a sudden the officers jump off of him in a hurry. Luke points what I assume to be is an officer's gun directly at Maryse. Shit!" I jump in front of Maryse shielding her from the psycho.

"Put the gun down now!" Seemingly all the policemen shout at once. Maryse grips my arm in fear. This asshole just doesn't get the message.

"Just leave her alone!" I plead with him. He's done enough damage to this poor woman and he just keeps coming back for more. He's already put her through a living hell. Why won't he just let it go?

"Put it down, Luke. We're not going to tell you again!" Hinkle hollers one last time. I glance around the police station and every officer on duty has their gun aimed at him. What would possess a man to act like this with armed cops around? This guy doesn't care about his own life, that's obvious now.

"I want the girl." Luke tilts his head as his eyes glaze over and open wide. His eyes lock onto me and Maryse. I shake my head I defiance.

"You can't have her." I declare sternly. If he thinks I'm just going to hand her over to him he's badly mistaken. "Not even over my dead body."

Luke's lips curve up into a demented sneer. "That can be arranged." He laughs as he grips the gun more firmly in his palm.

"John…" Maryse's voice softly emits behind me. I stand my ground. I keep Maryse behind me placing myself between her and her wanna-be assassin.

"Shut up! I'm trying to concentrate!" He blurts out as he bangs a closed fist against his own skull. Officer Moore and I exchange an unsure glance at his actions. This guy… he's way out there. He's gotta be hearing voices to be acting like that. "Shhhhh…" He hushes the already silent police station. Scratch that, he IS hearing voices.

"Put the fucking gun down now!" Officer Hinkle screams his command.

"It's already been done." Luke exclaims calmly with a smug look on his ugly mug. What does he mean by that? "This is on you, Ouellet." He turns the gun on himself.

"NOOO!" I screech as Luke locks eyes with me. I cringe as he pulls the trigger spraying blood all over the wall to his left. His eyes, still locked on me, turn lifeless as his body thuds to the floor hard. There's a muted mutual level of shock as blood spills from Luke's head. I feel Maryse squirm behind me trying to see what just transpired.

"What's going on…" I quickly spin around capturing her head in my hands blocking her view from the horrible sight. She's been through enough shit already. I don't need her looking at his spilt brains to fuck her up even more.

"Don't look." I instruct her as I place my forehead against hers. Her eyes dart between mine in confusion and curiosity.

"Did he…?" She seems disgusted just by the mere thought that he would blow his own brains out. I have to admit, I didn't see this coming. I thought I'd end up dead before he did. Just goes to show you exactly how sick this man was.

I gently nod my head indicating to her that she was indeed right. "Come on, let's get out of here." I throw my arm around her shoulders and lead her out of the exit opposite of Luke's body. I keep her tightly against me so she can't turn to see anything behind her. What happened back there was just some real fucked up shit. I can't get the look of his eyes out of my mind. In that split second he was out of consciousness. It's crazy how fast it happens. How quickly a life can end… Geez, it makes me think about death a light I never thought before. It's actually quite scary to be honest. It's the most frightening thought one can think of; their immortality.

I don't let go of Maryse until we're in the parking deck. All I want is to get her and myself, for that matter, as far as I can from that place. The image of his limp body thudding to the floor haunts me. It's all I see every time I close my eyes. This is all too real, too gruesome, and too traumatic. I'm thankful Maryse is okay and didn't see what he did to himself. We reach her car and she turns to face me.

We catch small glimpses of each other both awkward and afraid to be the first to speak up. She was obviously pissed off at me. Where do we go from here? "You protected me." She squeaks out almost surprised.

I reach my hand out to her only for her to slightly shutter before I make contact. I retreat knowing when I'm getting too close. "Yeah… I did."

She stares back at me seemingly having a change in heart. "Well, thanks." She faints a small smile before turning back to her car.

She was going to change her mind. I could see it. "Maryse…"

"John, please. Don't do this. Don't make this harder than it has to be." She reaches out for her car door opening it.

"You're not gonna give me a chance to explain myself?"

"Nope." She replies right back without hesitation.

"Are you breaking up with me?" I glower back at her feeling like an abandoned puppy.

"You can't break up with someone you were never with." Her soft voice oozes with disappointment. She climbs into her car silently before finally making eye contact with me. She lets out a long and exaggerated sigh. "Why are you doing this? Huh? I'm trying to leave and you're just standing there giving me that sad look." I shrug in response not able to muster up any further words. "Jesus…" She places her palm across her forehead before shaking her head in disbelief. "I can't believe this. Why do you have to be so perfect?" She glances out the windshield before bringing her eyes back to meet mine. "Okay, fine. I'll let you take me to the casino. This is your last chance. After this, don't bother me ever again."

A grin instantly replaces my frown and relief floods my system. "Good. Good." I lean in to kiss her in celebration but she puts her hand up stopping me.

"As friends." She peers up at me with her brows raised. I feel a bit let down with that added stipulation but I'm just grateful she's not completely giving up on me. I nod in compliance agreeing to her terms. "I'm serious, John. You better act professional or I swear to God I'll..."

"Alright, alright. My last chance and I won't try anything with you. Fine. I agree." She eyes me one last time reading me for authenticity.

Trish's POV

I frantically claw through my wardrobe searching for my missing bracelet but come up empty handed. It was a gift from my grandmother before she passed. Don't tell me I lost it. Fuck. The last time I saw it I was… I think hard to when I saw it last. A flashback goes through my mind.

"Trish, I'm exhausted. We've been at this for three days. Please, let me sleep."

That's right! I was in the car with John looking for Skip. I bet it's in his car. I run into the drive way and approach his SUV. Good thing he took his BMW to work today. I swing open the car door and reach around under the passenger seat looking for my bracelet. I feel something hard and metal-like. I pull it out with hope that it's my bracelet. A dangling earring sparkles in the sunlight.

"Hey, you didn't happen to see my other earring like this, have you?" She holds up a dangling platinum heart shaped earring. Gosh, it looks amazing.

I stare Maryse's missing earring. Misunderstanding sets in. Why would her earring be in my husband's car? She couldn't have lost it when he took her to the lawyer's ball. She misplaced it before that. When was she in his car before that? I can't think of a time. That's just odd. Whatever, I'm sure it's nothing to worry about.

I climb into the back seat and reach around under the driver side seat. I feel something rubbery and hard. I pull it out and dismay clouds my head as horror fills my heart. What the fuck is this? I hold it up to the sunlight with disgust. "Oh, God." I drop the rubber outside of the car and into the drive way. I hover above it with repulsion rushing through my veins as I hysterically run my hands over my pants and shirt trying to rid myself of the germs. A used condom? What the… my world collapses around me as I put two and two together. Maryse's missing earring and a used condom… In my husband's car. That sick bastard! How could he do this to me? And under my own nose? What the fuck is his problem?

I jump out of his piece of shit ride with purpose. He's done. I'm gonna fry that son of a bitch. I yank my front door open and storm into his man-cave. I ravage through his desk drawers for any other signs of his second life and come out dry. I switch my attention to his filing cabinet. Anything that can connect him to Maryse. Shit… nothing but case files. I roll my eyes as I place my palm on my forehead. I know he's been up to something. There's not just going to be some woman's earring in his car and a used condom under his seat for no reason. That's just circumstantial evidence though as suspicious as it may seem. I need something else… anything. A third clue to glue this all together. I know it has to be here… somewhere. I stand in the middle of the room and survey my puzzle.

My eyes lock onto his laptop on his desk. An overwhelming urge of curiosity plagues my mind. Something has to be on there and I'm going to find it. I plop into the office chair and open his laptop. Shit… password protected. I glance around the room for a clue. A Boston Red Sox sign clings to the wall above his book shelf. I type the word "REDSOX" into the keyboard and hit enter. Error. I need to try something else. A signed football by Tom Brady sits in its display case. Men and their sports... Okay, let's try PATRIOTS. Another error. Oh man. Three strikes and you're out. If I screw up again that's it. It'll lock me out and notify him that someone was trying to access his computer. What should I do?

I close my eyes and try to think clearly. I know his cell phone password. He told me once when he was drunk and needed me to call a taxi for him. It was TRISH, ironic enough. But that was years ago. He couldn't possibly keep the same password since, could he? But then again it's my husband I'm dealing with here. He's no computer whiz, that's for sure. He sure as hell isn't that creative either. He probably uses the same password for all his websites knowing how he is. I sigh and type my name into the keyboard and close my eyes as I hit enter. Here goes nothing.

His computer chimes as I access his desktop. I sigh in relief as I stare at the desktop wallpaper of the Red Sox's team of 99. For some reason they're his favorite. I open his computer files and search the names for anything that stands out. I see nothing but a wall of last names and case numbers. How can I find anything is this jumble of mess? After minutes of searching his files inside and out I turn up empty handed. Only one more thing to check. "What do you have on your email, Cena?" I tauntingly say to myself as I open the internet browser and go to the yahoo email page.

He's already signed in. Thank God. I search through his emails and find an email from someone with the user name M_Ouellet. That's got to be his little bimbo. I open the file and find a link to some pictures and video with the caption 'Because you wanted it so badly ;)'. I brace myself for the worst as I open the pictures first. Scantily clad Maryse poses with purple lingerie. I glance over each revealing photo in shock. How could John do something like this to me?

Photos of my husband surface posing like some kind of model in nothing but his boxers. Jesus Christ… what the fuck is this? I click to a picture of him and Maryse together. They're both smiling for the camera like it's natural for them. I happen upon a video clip with the thumbnail of a close-up of Maryse on her knees with someone's penis in her mouth. I hit play with immediate regret.

A video of a young Maryse comes into focus. She's on her hands and knees getting pelt by some guy I've never seen before. She moans out and looks directly at the camera. What the hell is all this? Is she a porn star? A model of some sort? Questions race through my head with no promise of an answer. What a slut. I can't believe John would sleep with let alone associate with someone like her. She's clearly a gold digging whore.

I stumble upon another video with the thumbnail of Maryse crawling over the bed on all fours in lingerie. I hold my breath and hit the play button. I watch in horror as I listen to my husband compliment another woman. "You're gorgeous. Pose for me baby." His words come from somewhere behind the camera. He must be the one filming this. Maryse struts around and John utters more encouraging words. He's never praised me that way before.

"I'm waiting." Maryse hisses as the camera shakes before being set down on something. John comes into view. He joins the slut on the bed and wastes no time setting his lips to hers. My heart plummets and my stomach twists into a painful knot. I skip forward in the video to catch a glimpse of Maryse's lips around my husband's unmentionable region. The fuck is this!? Giving him head? You've got to be fucking kidding me. I skip forward some more to witness her riding his face as he ravishes her. I can feel the unwelcomed tears sting my cheeks. I'm still in shock. To think he would do this to me is unfathomable but to film it? That's absurd.

I skip forward some more to observe her start riding my husband. The sounds of pleasure fill the audio and I can't take it. Seeing his infidelity is too much for me to handle. I slam the laptop lid down and scream in heart break. I collapse onto his desk and weep. How could he do this to me? To us? We were going to celebrate our anniversary soon. I'm suffering from my heart condition and does he care? No. He's too busy going around cheating on me. That son of a bitch!

I let my rage break out as I fling his laptop across the room. It crashes into the wall clattering to the wooden floor in a horrible crashing sound. I stand up and look at my doing. Pieces I didn't even know exists lie next to the broken laptop on the floor. I don't care if it cost him 600 bucks. He's a no good lying asshole. He deserves everything he gets. I pick up his computer chair and throw it across the room breaking his display case. I grab the priceless trophies and collectibles from each shelf smashing them on the floor in repeating order.

Glass, metal, and plastic line the floor. I grab the Red Sox sign above his bookshelf and send it to its demise in the pile of debris. With one swift motion I successfully knock all of his books from his book shelf. I sink to my knees and grab each book ripping it as fast as I can. Shards of paper float across the floor like a feather in the wind. I jump up and shriek again becoming blinded by my own tears. I grab his bookshelf and tilt it over feeling a sharp pain shoot through my chest traveling down my left arm before I fold onto the pile of dirt.