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Jillian Berg is a newly published author who combines her passion for writing with her life experiences in southern Louisiana law enforcement. Although most of her stories are not based on true cases, they are "true to life." Her creativity is inspired by her mentor, friend, and soul mate who has always encouraged and supported her work. Without him, her short stories may have remained as nothing more than a lost file on her lap top.
Proof Of Love by Jillian Berg
I watched from afar as he walked into the office, cell phone pressed against his ear. He put on his usual performance so that no one would know he was talking to me. Our love was a secret.
"You'll see," I said and hung up the phone in sheer frustration. I wish you knew.
I grabbed my pistol from under my seat, chambered a round and placed it into the concealment holster at the small of my back. I knew what I had to do.
I threw myself into autopilot and stepped out of my car. There were three detectives standing by the side entrance smoking, chatting, and avoiding the workday.
"Morning, Jane," they all said in a ritualistic tone.
A nod was all I returned. My mind was focused only on him—and proving him wrong. I walked to my cubicle and waited. I heard the door open and three voices stumbled over each other as a buzz of gossip filled the small section of the building. I rolled my eyes as I heard those idiots passing on rumors they knew weren't true, telling embellished tales of their self-proclaimed heroism, and griping about the latest recruits. Cops are worse than a house full of sorority girls during Fall Rush. Putting down another seemed to inflate their egos.
I sat quietly for nearly ten minutes. Finally, I stood and casually walked to the cubicle next to mine. He was typing a report with his back to me. I reached behind me and grasped the butt of my 9mm, pulled it out of the tight leather, and took aim. One shot was all I needed—I was only inches away from his head. I knew I had little time to finish what I started. I made my way to every cubicle I could and began to empty my clip. I had three down by the time they got to me and pumped my tiny frame full of lead.
I fell hard and my head began to spin. Someone screamed my name, but my eyes could hardly focus.
"What were you thinking?" my lover asked as he knelt beside my bloody body. Tears streamed down his face. I had never seen him cry.
"I told you no one else mattered.…"
THE END Jillian Berg © 2007 |