She stood there in the cold, dressed in a faux fur coat and leather overalls. Flicking her wrist, she raised the tobacco-stained ochre end to her trembling lips and filled her lungs with pretentious comfort. She stubbed the last ultra-mild under her stiletto and strutted towards his car.
This was not the first time.
He would park his black Sedan at the corner of Mt. Vernon street on Wednesday nights, and wait outside Delilah’s till she had wrapped up for the day. She’d hop in and they’d head to a pre-booked suite at a wayside inn.
Mr. Maloney was a reputed judge who had spent 30 years of his life to serve the law. He was a dedicated husband, a devoted father, and a man whose career panned out without a blotch on his reputation. Tina wasn’t his first escort, but there was something about her that kept drawing him back to Delilah’s. He never realized that his mild interest in this pretty young thing would grow into a form of wild obsession.
For three months they met once a week in discrete motels on the outskirts of Philadelphia, and this Wednesday was no different. They headed straight to the room and ensured that their murmurs of pleasure would be confined within the walls of these unfamiliar hotels.
He lay on his side as she pulled out her well-concealed revolver from behind her garter. She sat there in her corset holding the cold nozzle onto his temples. Closing her eyes, she clenched her index finger and splattered his brains out on the pillow that cushioned his head.
“That’s for Sammie’s sentence!” she breathed with relief knowing that it had taken her three years to bring her plans to fruition. Wiping the threads of blood from her face, she touched the gold band that was still clinging to her ring finger.
The praying mantis walked out without fear, as the sounds of the gun kept ricocheting through paper-thin walls.