The Killing League

9.

Family Man

Dinner was roast beef, mashed potatoes and soggy green beans. Brent Tucker looked down the long dining room table at his wife. Mrs. Brent Tucker looked nothing like the slinky, raven-haired hottie he’d married fifteen years ago. No, the woman sitting opposite him and their four children looked like her mother — tired, pudgy and unattractive. At times like this, Tucker couldn’t believe that he’d ever had the temerity to stick his dick inside that flabby bag of body odor.

And what had it gotten him? This crummy house that always smelled of mildew, these four little f*ckers with their incessant yelling and crying, and a dead-end job that would guarantee twenty more years of the same goddamn thing.

Tucker looked at his plate with dread, and let the comments from around the table merely scratch the surface of his consciousness.

“And then Mr. Backman said if I don’t do well on my math test—” one of the little shits was saying.

“Asparagus always makes me feel too full,” another one said.

“You’re full of it all right,” a third said.

Tucker stood up, collected some dishes and went out to the kitchen. He put the dishes in the sink and walked quickly from the kitchen up the stairs to his study. He shut the door and threw the deadbolt to secure his privacy. There was no way any of “them” would be able to intrude here.

He went behind his desk and sat down in the big, brown leather chair. He reached into the desk and pulled out a key, swiveled in his chair to a small cabinet and unlocked it.

He pulled out a thick manila folder and spun back around to his desk. He dumped the contents of the folder onto his desktop.

Driver’s licenses, necklaces, rings, a few clips of hair and a tooth lay in a small jumble on his desk’s leather blotter.

The driver’s license pictures showed young women with blonde hair and blue eyes who all looked vaguely similar.

He slowly spread the collection out, one by one, and with his other hand, unbuckled his pants.

Soon, Tucker could no longer hear the voices of his family just one floor below.