Any Man Would

By Louise Bishop

Sammy lived a happy life, he had a loving wife and a good job. One fateful day he comes home early to surprise her but she has a bigger shock for him. Now he is forced to live a double life.

He never planned on his life being like this or the things he has done. He is only here because of what she did to him and he did what any man would.

Now he has to keep up the lies and pretend to be someone else entirely. He will not let anyone get in his way and will go to great lengths to keep it that way.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Sep 4, 2019
• ISBN: 9781728391847

Louise Bishop

Louise Bishop lives and works in Essex. She has a background in health care and has always loved reading anything on the book shelves. She was inspired to write her first book any man would through her birth place of Buxton Derbyshire.

Book preview

CHAPTER

ONE

S ammy sat watching the coals glow and spit, the blackness of them in many ways mirroring his own heart and blackened soul. He was scared of the passion that simmered deep down within, like the coals it spat violently out in temper and the last person was no longer living to tell the tale. No one could ever love a black heart and evil soul without suffering now.

You see Sammy lives alone, that’s the way it has to be now. He sits in his snow- covered cabin, the icicles spiking out like daggers to the bleak horizon. These and the deathly silence are only broken by the howling cry of the wind and the coldness of his home. If they say home is where the heart is, that says something for Sammy’s life.

He is not here by choice.

There was a time that he used to walk the bustling streets, the aroma of fresh coffee and sugar glazed cakes tempting him in the artisan café windows, he would stroll through the market looking at the array of stalls and hum of chatter as people bustled past. The fresh and floral scents of the flowers at the stall smiling in the sunshine and fresh fruit and veg that makes your mouth water. The people they had been pleased to see him. The pretty lady with the straw- coloured hair and piercing blue eyes that read your soul, was always happy to see him. Then there was the wild haired man with the tumble weed beard and hands that felt like sandpaper when he handed you a bag of goods you had bought.

Sammy shakes his head hard, he never would have thought that he would have missed these places, people and life, normal life.

He would never have crossed the line and reached for the knife!

The handle he recalls was metal, out of a set from some overpriced department store. It felt cold, almost as if it was covered in ice. He recalls running his finger down the edge of the blade and listening to it sing. Was it glass or crystal that was meant to sing? Izzy would know but it was too late to ask her now. A burning hot pain made him jump, looking at his wedding finger he saw a cut. The blood welling up on the wound already.

A quick plaster solved that problem and covered the cut. He laughed and remembered the body upstairs and knew that a plaster would not cover that blood or the one he was about to make.

Her, the apparent love of his life, she was his reason for getting up in the morning, the hours he toiled at the shop. The pay cheque he sweated to bring home. But, well, how wrong could he have been. He could still hear the knife ripping through her flesh, the flesh he had once ravaged with feverish kisses and burning hot passion.

It had just been a normal day, the day everything changed. He had just finished working on a dining table for a nice family, he could see them laughing and devouring family meals, playing games and family meetings at the table. That cliché family image that you see on TV. He had packed up early to tell her about his day and the nice family. How much he had missed her, could not stop thinking about her.

Driving up the driveway shadowed with conifers, their leaves dancing in the mid-autumn breeze. He was looking forward to getting home, he could already see the look of surprise on her face. He would walk in early with the fragrant lilies and take-out curry from her favourite place. But something was not right, there was a car on the drive. The flash of light illuminating it on the drive, it was not her car, that was at the repair shop.

Pulling up behind it he noticed the pink dice hanging on the mirror. One of her friends? He frowned. He knew all of her friends and none of them had a red mini. Shutting his car door, he walked to the front door. Careful not to make a noise, he inserted his key into the lock. Silently stepping into the hallway.

A creak upstairs made him glance up the stairwell. Slowly, and with anger building up in him, he walked upstairs. Muffled voices, laughing and creaking travelled to his ears like a wave. He pushed open the bedroom door with a wallop and cold blood spread through his veins. Anger boiling up inside him.

On their bed, the one he had made for her, lay his wife, spread eagled and naked! Her head thrown back as she gasped and moaned in pleasure. On top of her, touching her wet breasts and making her gasp as they licked her, was a blond woman! Slowly and in mid orgasm his wife looked up and saw him, her pleasure disappearing and turning to fear! Her lover, with one hand still inside her, turns to see him. Before she can even move, he is on top of both of them.

They are screaming and somehow he has picked up a gym weight from the corner of the room. As the weight comes into contact with the lover’s face, he yells at her- ‘dirty whore, you dirty whore!’

He feels the crunch of the bones as they shatter in her jaw. He grabs her throat and squeezes, lifting her off the bed. He laughs as she starts to turn blue and battles for her breath. Finally, the light fades from her eyes and she slumps into his wife’s crotch. His wife tries to move but she seems stuck to the spot. He grabs her and spits at her ‘dirty cow!’

Hauling her off the bed by her hair, his wife yells out in pain. He smashes her wrists with the weight and she begs him to stop.

‘Please Sammy…I can explain?…………………. Sammy!’ She screams more as he smashes her wrists against the floor. Her speech is now reduced to sobs and silent screams. He smiles a cruel smile and her eyes widen as he raises the weight above her head, then laughs, throwing it at the mirror. The smashed glass splinters all over the woman on the bed. He smashes his wife’s head against the floor and hears her bones crack and smash and watches as her eyes glaze over and the blood pools behind her head. She is now laying in a pool of her own blood, legs open and bones splintered around her.

He stands and takes in an aerial view of the disturbing scene. Anger subsides in him as he paces down the stairs and stands in the kitchen. Suddenly the whole house feels as if it is grey and filled with an evil shadow. He sees the blond woman as the evil shadow and he feels like a victim in his own home. Catching his reflection in the mirror he looks like a murderer. A cold- blooded man covered in his beloved wife’s blood and her tart’s. He cannot believe they were in their bed together, she lied and went behind his back.

He picks up a knife.

The handle is metal, out of a set from some overpriced department store. It feels cold, almost as if it was covered in ice. He runs his finger down the edge of the blade and listens to it sing. Was it glass or crystal that was meant to sing? Izzy would know but it was too late to ask her now. A burning hot pain makes him jump, looking at his wedding finger he sees a cut. The blood welling up on the wound already.

A quick plaster solved that problem and covered the cut. He laughed and remembered the body upstairs and knew that a plaster would not cover that blood or the one he was about to make.

He walks up the stairs. Carving into her skin, he feels the cold body and sees the congealed blood and bile rises up in his chest as he sees the congealed cum between her legs. Angry, he carves feverishly into her bones, ripping tendon and muscle without even flinching. Once severed he puts the body parts in a bag, a Halloween treat for anyone!

He is suddenly aware of a groaning in the room and sees the blond woman moan and try to move. The bones grind in her jaw and the tears pour down her face. He plunges the knife through her hand and forces it into the bones. She, weakly and blindly through half closed eyes, tries to fight him off and he brings the weight down on her head. Her blue eyes open briefly and stare coldly at him as she sinks mercifully to unconsciousness.

The bag containing his wife’s body is a dead weight and he sweats as he hauls it in the back of his car. Should he be feeling something- regret? sadness? fear?

Not even a hint of loss? He has just smashed the love of his life to bits of blood and bone. But he was just numb! He slammed the boot of the car. Now the other body, what to do with it. He could not face putting it on top of his wife as that would have been what she wanted. But he needed to get rid of it somehow. He sits on the bonnet of his car and reassures himself that none of this is his fault