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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.

A Woman Scorned by Jillian Berg

"I saw your buddy today," he said in a smug voice.

I kept my eyes fixed on my boots as I double-looped the laces. I stood, fully uniformed.

"Who?"

"Your buddy. You know, the amazing Braden Brice...the same Braden you always rave about." The smirk on his face infuriated me. "He was with some woman who was obviously not his wife. I can't blame him, though, she was something."

My stomach churned and my instincts made me want to leap forward and slap him, but I contained myself. "That's not like him...are you sure it was Braden?"

"Oh, believe me, I know who he is. It was definitely him. He and some blonde were walking dangerously close to each other into a room at the Midnight Motel. It's nice to know where our taxes go."

Although I knew better, my mind raced, but my emotions remained hidden. "Well, it's his life and marriage he's risking."

"Yep," he said as his voice trailed. "Have a good night."

***

"Jena!"

I shot upright from a slumped position and was immediately forced into reality. I was working the night shift and had only two calls for service, leaving my body and my mind exhausted from the idle darkness. Scenes of infidelity plagued me and the words I heard before I left home replayed in my head like flashing clips of a horror film. It was three in the morning and I had parked down the street from his house. Of course, my marked squad car gave me away.

"Um, hi," I managed to say in a sleepy and somewhat embarrassed voice.

"What are you doing?"

"It's been slow and I wanted to be near you."

His smile comforted me as he opened my passenger's door. "That's cute."

His warm hand caressed my face as he leaned in and pressed his lips to mine. "I love you, baby."

"Me, too. You better get back inside before you're missed."

"Yeah. You be safe."

I watched him disappear under the street light. Just then my radio screamed with urgency.

"Headquarters to all units…two male subjects fighting…one subject has a knife."

I threw my car into gear and activated my top lights. I was miles away and knew I'd be the last on scene. I hadn't made it three blocks when headquarters announced the subjects were in custody and no other units were needed. I immediately shut down the spinning red-and-blues and eased off the accelerator.

I pulled to the side of the road a half mile from Braden's street and hid under an oak tree. My shift was nearing its end so I killed the engine and listened to the silence. After a few minutes, I saw Braden's car turn onto the main road and head north into town.

I tailed him and felt guilty doing so. I kept my distance…I'd already been busted once tonight. He turned into a shell driveway that led to the Midnight Motel. He got out and walked briskly to the door of one of the shabby rooms. A tall blonde opened the door and threw her arms around his neck. They retreated inside together. My world crumbled. All rational thoughts drained from my head as I pulled in behind his car. I gripped my pistol and stepped out….

***

"Jena, put the gun down!"

Flashes of red and blue filled the early morning and those who once backed me now surrounded me like I was a common criminal. I dropped my service weapon and lay prone in the gravel. Two deputies thrust my wrists into rings of cold steel. Medics stumbled over each other in an effort to save her, but it was to no avail…I was a marksman, trained by the almighty Braden Brice…and I hadn't missed my target.

I heard the ritual, but it seemed so foreign. "You have the right to remain silent…." The slurred words continued as my empty vessel of a body was forced into the rear of a squad car. I saw Braden kneeling over her blood-soaked body. He looked at me with callous eyes.

"Jena, you wanna talk?"

My eyes remained locked on Braden. I shrugged my shoulders and remained silent…never breaking my line of sight.

As I focused only on him, I heard the deputy update Headquarters. "Decedent's name is Carolyn Brice, date of birth, eight twenty-four seventy-five, sister of Lieutenant Braden Brice. Suspect, Deputy Jena Bailey, was placed into custody without incident."

I jerked forward and nearly broke my nose on the cage that separated me from freedom. "Who was she?" I begged in desperation.

"Braden's baby sister. Apparently some married asshole dumped her when he found out she was pregnant. Guess it wasn't her day, huh?"

It all fell into place and the jagged edges of the jigsaw puzzle began to fit. It wasn't Braden who betrayed me, but my own husband. He used me as a pawn in his game to rid himself of three obligations…me, the mistress, and the unborn child.

THE END