My parent's funeral wasn't exactly the best. The priest that did it was a drug addict and he wasn't completely sober. My wife and I are divorced now and the bitch won custody over my son David. I only get to see him once a month these days. I used to have him more often but i kept going back to the court to try and win full custody but I only made it worse.
It's been months since my parents murder and they still haven't found the fuckers yet. I got tired of living in L.A. so I moved to Miami. I told Beth that I was moving and she asked if she could come with and I said, Why not? She was so excited it only took her the rest of that day to pack.
Now that I'm in Miami I've been pretty successful, not to mention that Beth and I are back together. I have my own weapons company now too. We create, modify, and restore civilian and military weapons. So yeah, my life pretty a-fucking-mazing right now. Except for the fact that my bitch of an ex-wife is telling David all these lies making him hate my fucking guts.
Anyways, back to now. I got home from work today and Beth was watching something on TV. Hey sweetheart, I say. Beth looks up and sees me. Your home! She kisses me, how was work. Work was work. I say. How was your day? Great, oh by the way one of your friends from the Marine Corps stopped by...I didn't know you were a marine. I always will be, what did they look like?
He was about 6'6", around 150 pounds, and he had green-grey eyes. Charles, I say cutting her off, What did he want? He said that he heard about your parents and wanted to give his condolences. I bust out with laughter; I'm a sorry Beth but that's the biggest pile of bullshit I've ever heard. I made his life i living hell while he was in the marines. I don't care if you believe me or not matt but he was here and he scared the shit out of me.
I stop laughing, He in town? Yeah, here's his address. Thanks, love you. You're leaving now? Yeah, if he came to my house it must be very important to him. She Grabs my arm, Oh no you don't...dinner is ready and you're going to eat it while it's hot. I chuckle, okay okay I'm coming. After dinner I'm pretty tired so I go to bed and decide I'll pay Charles a visit in the morning.
The next day I have a bad feeling that shit will hit the fan REAL quick so I go to the closest gun shop (which happens to be my own) and grab a .357 and some rounds for it. As I'm getting closer that bad feeling keeps getting worse and worse. When I finally get the address I'm greeted by two big, fat, slobbering pit bulls. Oh goody...dogs, I think to myself. I hear a man yelling from inside. Y'all quit that barking now ya here!
The dogs shut up but they keep growling. You jones? Says the man. Yeah, I say, Charles here? No sir, ya just missed him on his way to work. Damn, where he work at? There's a car shop down the road a ways...that's where you can find him. Okay thanks. Not a problem at all.
I find the shop without a hitch and pull into the drive, park my car and knock on the door. No one responds the first time so I knock again. Still no answer so I start to walk away. Halfway to my car I hear him. Jonsey! Long time no see brother! Torres, how've you been? Exel-fucking-lent, how bout you? Ahh can't complain really. Sweet, shit I'm sorry man you wanna come inside?
Yeah I'll come in for a little bit. Something isn't right, I've made his life living hell in the past and yet he's really fucking happy to see me. After a few minutes of talking to Torres I decide it's time to go so I say my goodbyes. As I'm walking out I hear a switchblade open and before I could turn around I feel the cold steel of a blade on my neck.
Okay jones, he says, here's what's going to happen...you apologize to me for what you did to me in the marines or I slit your throat. You...have...five...seconds. I start to panic a little bit. I don't understand why I am panicking...I've been trained for this. Yeah but that was years ago, I think, so what?
Torres starts to count down. Fuck all kinds of duck, what do I do? (Delay him, find a weakness,) a voice says inside my head. Torres, I say, what do you want me to apologize for? He doesn't answer, (keep asking,) says the voice. For lack of a better plan I keep asking, hoping the voice is right. Finally he responds, I want you to apologize. For what, I ask. Torres begins to laugh as if I had said something funny.
You know damn well what for...making my life hell! My turn to laugh. You dumbass, it was my job to do that to you. I don't give a fuck...when I got home I Didn't have jack shit. My wife left me, my car was repossessed, and my house was foreclosed. I finally see what the voice was talking about; Torres was favoring the arm that was holding the knife.
(Yes,) says the voice, (use that to your advantage.) Okay so, first I have to disarm Torres. After that, I have to make sure he can't fight back very well (kill him...) Wait what? (KILL HIM) Yeah kill him that will get me home faster. The voice laughs maniacally. Oh great, I have a fucking psychopath in my head.
(Time to turn the tide…)I elbow Torres in the gut making him hunch over. Now the knife is away from my neck. I grab his arm and judo toss him over my shoulder then I Grab the blade and stab him in the leg. Torres lets out a yell as he sees an opening and goes for my gun and I feel a tug on the holster. I move out of the way quick enough to survive with nothing but a flesh wound.
Now I have a new problem, Torres has my gun and I'm wounded. What the fuck was that jones? Did you really just try to kill me!? Oh no no no, I just felt like elbowing you and stabbing you. Oh okay well you're still going to die. He raises the gun and pulls the hammer back. Any last words jones? Yeah, go fuck yourself. Torres yells and then I hear a gunshot.