Mike Jastrzebski - Key Lime Blues

“She was a young girl, just like you. Neither of you were in control of your life back then. It was all between Alvin and your mother.”

Destiny stepped over Frankie’s body and stood glaring at me while I willed her to move a little closer. Instead, she slammed the butt of the lighter on the table.

“Tanya was always jealous of my mother and me. She didn’t want to share her father with us. She was a spoiled little brat who felt threatened by the fact that her father was sharing his love with us.”

“You know that’s not true,” I said. “Your mother was a drug addict. Alvin was trying to protect Tanya. He offered to take you in but your mother wouldn’t let him.”

“Those are all lies Tanya told you,” Destiny said. Again, I thought I detected a hint of indecision in her voice. “My mother didn’t turn to drugs until Alvin kicked us out. He used her, like every other man she ever knew.”

“Your mother was the problem,” I said. “Not Tanya.”

Destiny lit the lighter and swiped the tip toward my face. “Liar.”

When she lunged at me, I snapped my head to the side, swung my right hand up and clamped it around her wrist, shaking the lighter from her hand.

She threw herself on top of me and yelled, “I should have killed you the same time I killed Frankie.” While I struggled to throw her off me, the chair collapsed. Clutching her left wrist, I tried to push her away, but she reached out with her free hand and raked my face with her nails.

The scratch tore a flap of skin loose below my left eye and I could feel the blood trickle down my cheek. Reaching out, I tried to grab her other arm. I missed and she heaved herself backward, breaking my grip on her wrist.

With a triumphant laugh, Destiny flailed at me with both arms before flinging herself to one side. “I’ll kill you right now, you son of a bitch,” she screamed, and then she scrambled across the floor to where she’d thrown the baseball bat.

My heart was racing and it felt like Destiny might have cracked one of my ribs when she pounced on me, but I knew that if I didn’t free myself I was going to die. While I fumbled with the ropes still holding my legs, Destiny snatched up the bat, jumped to her feet and faced me.

“You never should have messed with me.” she said. “You’re just like Frankie. All you care about are my diamonds. Well they’re mine, and you can go to hell.” When she realized I was on the verge of freeing myself she seemed to get a burst of renewed energy. While I struggled, she raised the bat over her head and ran at me. She was completely out of control and she stumbled over Frankie’s body. That stumble probably saved my life. Instead of smashing my head in, the bat grazed my ear and slammed into my left shoulder.

My arm went numb and it took all my will power to ignore the pain and roll under the table. With my good hand I continued to work at freeing myself while Destiny moved in for the kill. “I’ve got you now, Darling,” she said.

Dropping to one knee in front of the table, she swung the bat between the legs, missing my face by inches. She made several quick, explosive jabs and cursed each time she missed.

Somehow I managed to pull my legs free. Before she could made her next thrust in my direction I slid out from beneath the table. Destiny jumped to her feet. Without hesitation she raised the bat over her head and brought it down with all her might. The wood tabletop split and Destiny screamed. Her face turned purple and like an angry ogre, she grabbed the table with one hand and flung it out of her way.

Once again Destiny gripped the bat with both hands and brought it behind her shoulders. I waited until she started her swing, then I dropped to the floor and kicked out at her with my feet. The blow to her hip sent her flying in one direction, the bat in another.

The fall would have been the end of the fight for most women. It didn’t appear to faze Destiny. When she hit the floor, she rolled toward me, struck out with the heel of her shoe, and caught me on my shin.

I jumped away from her as she lunged for the bat. When she realized she couldn’t reach it, she spun around and crawled over to where the lighter had fallen. Snatching it up, she sprang to her feet and ran past me. I grabbed at her ankle, missed, and before I could do anything else, Destiny flicked the lighter and touched it to Frankie’s shirt. The lighter fluid soaked fabric burst into flames, which spread with amazing speed down the length of his body.

My first thought was to find something to smother the flames. I gave up on that idea when she ran across the room and torched the couch. The flames raced toward each other like two lost lovers eager to meet. While I hesitated, they joined together, separating us.

Destiny watched the fire for a moment, hypnotized by the blaze, and then she threw down the lighter and ran to where she’d left her purse. She grabbed it, along with her suitcase, and made for the door.

Perhaps, if I’d reacted quicker, I might have been able to contain the fire. Instead, it took on a life of its own. I realized that if we didn’t both get out of there soon, we weren’t going to make it.

Destiny was on the verge of escaping and I ran after her. She beat me to the door, turned, and threw her suitcase at me. I tried to twist out of the way, but she’d taken me by surprise and the case caught me in the chest.

I stumbled three steps back, tripped on something I couldn’t identify, and landed on a piece of burning carpet. The flames singed the hair on the back of my arms, and I swore as I began to crawl over to the door. Billowing smoke descended from the ceiling and flames shot out around me.

I was beginning to wonder if I was going to make it when I felt a whiff of fresh air from the open front door. I forced myself to crawl forward on my hands and knees and didn’t stop until I was outside. Once there, I took a deep breath of the clean air, stood, and found myself facing Destiny.

She opened her purse and fumbled for something inside, but as soon as she realized I was coming for her she turned and fled down the stairs.

I ran after Destiny and the lights next door went on. A tall, thin, bald man wearing only a pair of white boxer shorts stepped onto the porch and stared at us.

He watched Destiny run by, and turned toward me. “What the hell’s going on?” he asked.

“Call the fire department,” I shouted, without stopping.

I didn’t catch up to her until she reached the corner. When she heard my footsteps, she glanced over her shoulder. Her eyes were filled with anger, and she let out a loud, frustrated scream.

Once again she reached into her purse, and I wasn’t surprised when she pulled out Bob’s pistol. She stopped running, swung the gun in my direction, and pulled back the hammer.

I was still several steps away from her but seeing the pistol was more effective than a motivational talk. I made a record-breaking long jump. Brushing the pistol aside, I grabbed her wrist.

While I wrested the gun from her hand she kicked and scratched at me, crying out in rage.

“It’s all over, Destiny.” I stepped away and held the gun loosely pointed in her direction.

She smiled. “You don’t have the guts to shoot me, Darling.”

“I will if I have to.”

Destiny tilted her head when she heard the first sirens in the distance. She licked her lips and lowered her voice. “There’s a fortune here, Wes. We could share it. It’s a lot of money and we could have a lot of fun together.”

“Until the day you decide to take a ball bat to my head,” I said. “For some reason, I think that would be sooner rather than later.”

“I’d never do that to you, Wes. Really, I wouldn’t.” She took a tentative step toward me. “I think I’ve made it clear that I like you. And I’m a lot more fun than Tanya is, I promise.”