A stranger shows up at Mercedes' door claiming car trouble. She offers her phone to help him but soon learns that no good deed goes unpunished.


I held up one of many paper flowers. "Whitney, these are beautiful," I complimented my young daughter. I smiled as she looked up at me with her big brown eyes.

Whitney had high hopes of working in the garden, but her dreams were crushed by the heavy rain. I substituted her plans with the idea of an indoor garden. She could do her arts and crafts, and I'd get a little work done.

"Do you know what happens when it rains?"

The six year old lit up. "Puddles!" she cheered.

"No, our flowers grow." I straighten when I hear the doorbell ring. I ordered Whitney to stay put, and I turned on cartoons to be sure. I cracked the front door to look out.

A tall man stood outside, drenched from the rain. "Hi, I don't mean to bother you, but you were the only house with lights on. I'm have car troubles. Can I use your phone?" he asked. He studied me as I pucker my lips in hesitation. "I don't have to come in. I'll stay right here, and you can hand me the phone and close the door."

I closed the door before rushing to get the phone. When I returned, I mumbled, "Here." I take in the man's smile as he thanked me.

"The one day I forget my cell phone." He began to dial a number. After being asked if he was from around, he spun a quick story about being from the other side of town. He looked behind me as the lights began to flicker before turning off.

I groan at the power outage. I listened to the silence; Whitney was okay. I take the useless phone from the man. "What are you going to do now?"

He shrugged. "I'll go back and wait the storm out. Thank you for your help."

I called after him as he started to walk off. I couldn't let him walk through the rain and sit in a cold car. "You can come inside. You can wait here for the rain to lighten up, or my husband can help you. He'll be home soon." I easily find a flashlight and lead the man to the dining room. "I'm Mercedes."

He took a seat as I began to light the candles on the table. "Sam." He looked around the room and stopped when he noticed the tiny face peeking at us. He introduced himself to my daughter as she stepped forward. In the middle of their conversation, he asked, "Are you scared of the dark?"

She posed with her hands on her hips. "No, I'm brave."

Sam laughed at the little girl. "That's good. People are more scary anyway."

After lighting the last candle, I passed the flashlight to Whitney. "Go play," I ordered.

She had exactly what she wanted. She waved before leaving. In the living room, she made shadow animals on the roof. She was happy and quiet.

I watch as Sam pushed his damp blond hair back. "Let me get you something dry." I go to the folded laundry in the corner and take a towel and one of my husband's shirts.

He dried his face before placing his jacket on the back of his chair. He moved into the darkness to change shirts, but when he wanted to speak, he stepped forward. "You thought I was your husband at the door?"

I watched his toned upper body glistening under the light, but I had to warn myself not to stare. After turning my gaze, I admit, "Yeah, he'll be home soon."

"You told me that." Sam returned to his seat. "What does he do?"

"He's a musician." When I was asked about my job, I explained my life as a stay at home mom.

"You're daughter is beautiful. Is she your only child?"

"Yes, but she's a handful." I sit across from him. "Do you have kids?"

"No, It's just me now. My wife passed away, um, recently."

Sam and I continued to chat. We talked about our lives, hobbies, and entertainment. Talking was easy. We didn't think of the rain that was pouring outside. Before either of us knew it, hours had passed.

"I have to put my daughter to bed. Can you stay here?" I got a nod from the man and left. After tucking her in, I warned, "You can keep the flashlight, but don't stay up all night playing with it." I watch her yawn and knew she wouldn't be up long.

Whitney fought back the covers and sat up before asking the million dollar question. "Where's Dad?"

"He'll be home tomorrow."

She pouted at my answer. "You said that yesterday. He was supposed to be here today."

"Tomorrow," I promised. Was I lying if I truly didn't know? I kissed her goodnight. I closed her door on my way out. Walking into the dinning room, I noticed that all the candles were blown out. "Sam?" I called.

"Here," he called from the living room. He put down the framed family picture before I entered the living room. "I hope that you don't mind that I moved in here." He pointed to the two candles that he had moved.

I waved him off. "It's fine." I strolled through the room and looked out the window.

Sam watched me as he sat on the couch. "Looking for your husband?"

I threw my hands up. I was tired of pretending. I felt silly. "He's not coming home," I finally admitted- more to myself. "He packs and leaves for a show as if he has no responsibilities, and I never know when he's coming home. I'm fine, but when you have a daughter that's asking about you every night, you should make some kind of effort."

After listening to my bitter rant, Sam said, "Yeah, your fine." He invited me to sit beside him. "When he leaves, is it alway music?"

I nodded as I sat. "He puts his music first, but Whitney's too special to be second."

"What about you? Any man that would leave a beautiful woman like you alone is crazy," he said. "Are you two close?"

I looked into Sam's green eyes and felt that I couldn't lie. "Not lately, but aren't couples supposed to drift apart a little after having kids?" I asked, earning a head shake. I just wanted my situation to feel normal. "Since our daughter was born, Tank's had a bad temper. I'd rather let him focus on work than argue."

"Argue? Has he ever hit you?"

I quickly answered, "No, he wouldn't dare. It's just… Some days, he's not the nicest person to be around. Once, right after Whitney was born, he-" I stopped after realizing how the man soaked in every word I said. "Why am I telling you this."

He chuckled along with me. "I tend to have that effect. People just want to know that someone will listen." His lips gained my attention as he licked them. "It's one of many things that I'm good at."

I noticed our closeness, and my heart skipped a beat. God, please give me the strength, I prayed. I hopped away and snatched the straps of paper off the table. "I should throw this away." I blindly rushed to the kitchen.

Sam followed me. "What happened?" He placed the candles on the island.

I tried to keep my distance, but Sam kept moving closer. "You're a nice guy, but I think I misread you."

He stopped in front of me. He shook his head and confessed, "You didn't misread." He reached for my hand. "Can I kiss you?"

"Um." I tired to think of all my reasons to say no, but my mind kept returning to him. "Um, yes."

His kiss was slow and warm. It felt magical. His lips gave me the feeling of being desired. It woke a part of me that had long been in hibernation.

I didn't just want the stranger. I needed to have him.

After being asked to my room, Sam challenged, "What about your daughter?"

"She's down for the night." I led him away. I put the light to the side and pulled Sam further into the room.

Sam closed and locked the door. After hours of stalking, he finally had his prey. He returned to my lips with a hungrily kiss and never broke away as he turned us. He trapped me between the door and his large frame. He move my hand over his crotch and announced, "You make me so hard without trying." He smirked when I mindlessly squeezed the bulge. "This is your chance to stop."

"No."

Sam pulled my sweater over my head. He began to peck and lick down my body until he was kneeling. He removed my pants and kissed my thigh before taking off my panties. He worked back up my body, following the same trail.

I stood frozen as he undressed himself. I watched him in the light. My eyes followed his strong arms to his broad shoulders. I openly studied his burly chest and abs. I caught sight of his thick and erect cock, and a deep moan escaped me.

He removed my last piece of cover: my bra. Sam returned for a kiss as his hands explored my body. He began to nibble at the side of my neck, distracting me with pleasure as his cock penetrated me.

I wrapped my arms around the blond as he began to thrust. In his ear, I encouraged him to go deeper and fastest. I felt my body tense from the excitement.

He left me breathless with each thrust. He had me and could take me anyway he wanted. Sam stopped. He slowly licked my parted lips then announcing, "I want you on the bed." In bed, he positioned me on my knees and rested my back against his chest. His hard member poked at my bottom. One of his hands massaged my breasts, and the other inched down my stomach. "You want to be fucked hard, huh? Do you want me to pound your tight pussy with my cock? You want to be filled?"

I nodded to his questions. I was out of breath but full of lust.

"Tell me. I want to hear you beg for it."

I found the energy to follow his command. Pleading with him, I repeated his every word and more. "Please, I need you."

"Why do you need me?"

"I need you," I repeated. Words fell from my mouth quicker than my brain could process them. "I need you because you make me feel more alive than my husband has. Please. Please."

He bent me forward, so my upper body was against the mattress. Giving me what I asked for, he thrust back into me. His movements were faster and more powerful. His claws dragged over my back before tangling in my hair. He gave the curly locks a tug as his hips rocked forward and back.

I was unraveling. I kept his name on my lips. I softly purred, "Sam… Sam, yes." I felt chills running through my body.

The sex changed from kinky and rough to concerningly painful. It happened so quickly. It was like a flip of a switch.

Sam's fingers slid from within my hair to the back of my neck. He squeezed and pushed down. He continued to pound into me.

"Sam," I called feeling uncomfortable. My face was shoved into the pillow. "This hurts." I was on the verge of tears. I tried to reach around for him, but he pinned my hand down. "Please, stop!"

He released me with a shove.

I was frozen with fear. I couldn't understand why that happened, but I knew that I had made a big mistake. I failed to pay attention to the man that was rummaging through every drawer. When I finally found my voice, it came out shaky "I-I think you should go." I turned, only to be straddled down.

The naked man was over me. With my husband's tie, he bound me to the poles of the headboard. He was unfazed by the struggle I put up. He remained silent as he redressed. He left the room and returned after a minute.

Through my tears, I asked Sam why.

Why would he do this? What was his plan?

He removed the knife from behind him back.

I cried louder. "Oh my God." I began to squirm for freedom.

He was confident that I wouldn't get loose. "Stop crying," he ordered.

I couldn't. I just did it silently.

Under his breath, Sam growled, "You're just like them. You're a cheater." He squeezed the knife in his hand. The man that I thought of as nice and charming had revealed himself as a crazed killer. "This is all his fault. This is all happening because of your husband."

Tank didn't care who he stepped on to get to the top. He wanted what he wanted. He screwed over a lot of people. He makes a bad decision, and I had to pay with my life?

"I'm sorry that he hurt you. Are you looking for money? I have a lot hidden here. I can pay you back, and you-"

"No!" he interrupted. "He took my wife… It's only fair that I take his, right? He needs to know how it feels." He took a phone out of his pocket. Sam played a video and watched my reaction.

The video was secretly recorded. It was clearly a couple in bed. As the video played on, I realized it was Tank with another woman: he was cheating. It was heartbreaking.

Sam loved my defeated look. He continued to play the video to rub my face in it. His finger accidentally slid to the next file in the folder.

The picture was only shown for a second, but it burned itself into my mind. The sight made me gag. It was a dead body: a woman hacked to death.

Sam had done that to his wife… and I was next.

I was willing to lie back, and let Sam have his way. I didn't care what happened to me, but I had one thing to live for. "Can you please think about my daughter? "

God knows what Whitney's life would be like if Tank had to raise her. Which family member or boarding school would he ship her to? Would she know that she's loved? Would he pick the best therapist to help her through the fact that Mommy was killed by the husband of Daddy's mistress?

"Does my daughter deserve this? Whitney is innocent." I wasn't crying for myself. I felt like I wasn't getting through to him, so I gave up. "Can we do this somewhere else? I don't want Whitney to be the one to find my body."

"Your husband-"

"I don't care. I hate him," I argued. "I just want my daughter to be happy."

"And that can only happen with you?" Sam ran his fingers through his hair and cursed under his breath. He was cracking. He leaned forward to rest his hand on the tie. "If I let you go, you have to do everything I say. I want to know how much you hate your husband."


Tank returned from his business trip two days later. He dropped his bags by the door. My husband hugged me, and I refused to return it. "Where's Whitney?"

"Your mother's," I answered. I wanted to waste no time setting the plan into action. "I got dinner. It's from Breadstix."

He bit his tongue and held in his comment about the takeout meal. He sat at the table, and I dropped the plate of lasagna in front of him.

I sat across from him and silently watched him take his first bite. "Do you remember what we did for our first date?" I gave him three guesses, and he wasted them all. I gave him a second question. "What's Whitney's favorite color?"

He coughed into his fist. He shrugged and guessed, "It's pink." He was wrong. "She a kid. She changes her mind everyday." He drank his water, hoping it would effect the tickle in his throat. "I just got home. Why are you asking me all these questions?" He was getting upset.

"Just eat your dinner." I was sure that I was doing the right thing.

Tank continued to eat. He continued to cough. He tried to walk away from the table, but collapsed to the floor as soon as he stood. He curled into the fetal position and held his stomach.

I had listened to the plan to frame Tank for the murder of Sam's wife, but that wasn't enough. I hated him more than that. I didn't want him on the same planet as me. I didn't want him to breath. I demand that Sam create a plan that I approved of.

Laced. Everything on Tank's plate had weed killer in it. It made up almost forty percent of his meal. The amount was large, and he unknowingly took the poison in by spoonfuls. It was going to work quickly on him; I was merciful.

I sat, listening to my husband moan in agony from his cramps. I only became concerned when he threw up. I stood to evaluate how much puke I would have to clean from my carpet. I passed him to get to the minute phone hidden in the kitchen.

Sam was pleased that I had followed through. "Now, destroy the phone. Call 911 only when the job is done."

I returned to check on Tank. I felt the blood slowly pumping through the veins in his neck.

He was still, but there was a little life in him. There was no way he could escape death.

"You're going to be put through a lot, but stick to the story that I taught you." Sam ordered.

I followed Sam's directions, and it paid off when Tank's death was ruled an accident. I never hunted for money or benefits as his widow; that's the downfall of many black widows. I continued my life happily with my daughter.


Thanks for reading.

This story was inspired by the movie No Good Deed. The ending was an idea and written by the author Shon-Shon. She also left a bunch of prompts and tips, so I'm looking forward to more thrillers... but I got some happy stories coming too. lol.