Title: Retribution?
Featuring: Roxy Phoenix
Date: 10/17/2012
Location: Rev: Last Stand

Lord, Hell, Jesus, Mary, and Joseph... For fuck’s sake, how did she continue to always end up in places that she swore she’d never return? Yet here she was, 7253 Lakeside Way, Unit 22 of the Ridgecrest RV Park. The entire population of the 40-plot park was primarily Bulgarian, all gypsies, some family, some criminals... all Bulgarian and all poor Eurotrash.

Ugh, fuck it. Better get it over with, she thought.

Three raps on the metal door echoed inside the aluminum box Roxy Phoenix once called home. The response of shuffling from behind the door perked her curiosity. Was Jason in there? Was it just her mother?

As a matter of reflex, Roxy combed through the tangled tresses of her auburn hair. A few pats to the green plaid skirt and the adjustment of the cleavage in the black low cut shirt made her appearance slightly more presentable. She’d hoped Jason was there since she’d worn her ass-kicking knee-high boots that day.

Before she could reflect more on the ass-whopping that she was planning to elicit, the metal door flung open. An older auburn-haired woman with olive skin opened the door. Veronika Petrova’s face was one mixed with joy and complete sadness at the sight of her daughter.

“My Kalinka,” her mother cooed the nickname that she had called Roxy many years prior; ‘ladybug,’ so dubbed for her long red hair. “Come in, come in. I have missed you.”

Gesturing as a hospitable host, Veronika waved her daughter to come in. Roxy followed this command, but before her mother could settle into her “Prodigal Daughter” fantasy, Phoenix slammed the door behind her and locked it tight. Whoever was in there was forced to stay, and who ever wasn’t, would not be entering.

“Don’t,” Roxy stopped her before she continued, “Where is he?”

“Who?” She posed with a change of the subject, “Why don’t you sit down? I can make you some tea.”

“Don’t fucking patronize me, woman.” Roxy took a long drag off the cigarette between her deep red lips. She exhaled with a deep breath, as the trail of smoke billowed out of her mouth and traveled into her mother’s face.

Her mother coughed and waved the smoke away from her face. She scolded her daughter, “Roxanna! Language!”

“You can play this game all day, but I’ve got shit to take care of.”

“I don’t know who you mean, Kalinka.” Veronika lowered her voice, “If you mean Andrei... your father’s been dead for years.”

“I know,” She disclosed with little sympathy, “I killed him.”

The sound of a dish crashing to the ground penetrated the pregnant silence. Unfettered by her mother’s stunned reaction, Roxy continued to peruse the shelves in the living room for any traces of Jason Chains.

“You’re surprised?”

“Roxanna... it was an accident?” Her words wavered as they left her mouth.

A smug grin slithered across her seductive face, her tone did little to reassure her mother, “Of course it was.”

Vero’s expression was twisted between the sorrow of discovering what fate her husband had met at the hand of her own child and the torture her victimized daughter was forced to endure as a result of her husband’s unsavory appetites.

“Roxanna, please. The police...”

“...Will deport you...” She snidely observed, “Can’t imagine they’d listen to the drunken ramblings of some gypsy.”

Those words halted anything further leaving Vero’s mouth. They were harsh but true, and Roxy knew what to say to cut someone deep.

“But I’m not here about any of that... govno.” Roxy cleared her throat, before she was interrupted by anymore of her mother’s pleas. “Where... is... he?”

Defeated and ego bruised by her young daughter, Vero resumed her initial plan of tiding the house. With a roll of her eyes, she pushed up the sleeves of her shirt and commenced washing the dishes.

Roxy grew impatient with her mother’s denial, “Alexei told me he was here, and I know you’re lying.”

That statement incited a pause in her routine. Her stifled sobbing was audible, but she held her forearm to her nose and mouth to prevent any more tears from escaping. It had been years since she had seen her only son, and she had assumed he was dead. It was a somber relief to her that she knew that was no longer the case, yet she chided herself as being the reason that he was gone.

“Mother,” Roxy released an exasperated sigh at this display, “I don’t want to have to shoot you, but I will.”

Disbelieving her daughter’s statement, Veronika continues to scrub the ceramic bowl. Not a speck of dirt remained on the white china, but she passionately worked at the bowl. Her emotions were anxiety-ridden at the recent disturbing revelations of the day.

The terrycloth towel hanging out of the middle drawer stole her focus; and she bent her head down and reached her right hand down to retrieve it in order to dry the soaking dish in her left hand. Within seconds, a zing pierced the air, and the bowl shattered in her hands. Veronika shrieked in surprise as the remaining pieces crumbled into the soapy water.

Stubborn as her fiery tempered daughter, Veronika snarled, “You missed!”

“That was the warning shot.”

Roxy flicked the lit cigarette into the sink full of dirty water. Satisfied, she licked the searing end of the butt of the beautiful .44 MAG, and as it burned the tip of her tongue, she blew a short puff of air across the top. She mused, “You’re lucky I gave you one.”

“You... you...” Veronika stammered in frustration, “You have no heart.”

“Coming from the woman who’s harboring the man who left your daughter for dead,” Roxy bit her tongue, “You’re hardly a saint.”

“I don’t know who you want!”

Incensed that her daughter would not listen to her, Veronika gathered dishes from the soapy sink and began to hurl them at her daughter. An impromptu round of shot-putting erupted as the Sofia Spitfire took each one out with a bullet.

Roxanna hardly felt concern for the series of bullets resounding in the trailer of the Park Valley Establishment, as no one ever seemed to concern themselves with the business of the other residents in the area.

Police were rarely called, as the criminals living in the trailer park never wanted to risk their own fate to get involved with the authority at the sake of others. The only Bulgarian cop that had seldom made a trip to the park had been her Uncle Boris, one of the few Bulgarian immigrants who had established a home miles away from the double-wides.

She exhaled, “As entertaining as this is, Mother, I’m in no mood.”

“Roxanna, he’s--”

“Right here.” The deep masculine voice came from the bedroom doorway behind Roxy.

Still, after everything they’d been through, his voice could send chills down her spine and his scent could moisten her panties. She’d rehearsed the scenario of meeting him again dozens of times in her head, spouting out a myriad of cliché phrases as she blew his head off… This situation certainly wasn’t what she had had in mind, and none of those snarky one-liners were coming to mind at this present moment.

“Jason, I--” Veronika hesitated to continue.

Roxy didn’t budge. She couldn’t. Frozen in her spot, she stood, aiming the gun at the cabinet above the sink where her mother had been standing previously.

“Enough,” He interrupted her, “Go.”

Veronika paused for a moment, before she dabbed her damp hands on her jeans. She buzzed around the kitchen lost until she found her purse. Terrified at what may ensue in her absence, she waited at the door and begged, “Don’t hurt her... please.”

No response was disclosed, but Veronika choked back on some tears as she exited the trailer swiftly.

Without a concern for his well-being, Jason sauntered around the statuesque Roxy frozen in the moment and towards the fridge. He opened the door and produced a beer bottle. He slapped the cap of the bottle against the countertop edge. The metal cap tumbled towards the floor, and he brought the bottle to his lips.

He stopped before he drank any of the liquid, and he returned the bottle to his side. He apologized, “I’m an awful host, as you remember. Please, help yourself to a drink... I believe you know the way around.”

He was hitting every mark, and she was letting him... this was not how she saw things going. What an asshole. God, he looked so fucking sexy too, and he knew it.

He’d been out riding his motorbike, judging from his ensemble. That same black Calvin Klein bomber jacket that she had purchased him shortly after he had acquired the bike fit him just as exquisitely as she had remembered. Zipped to the center of his chest, a fraction of the snug black tank was slightly visible underneath. Those dark blue jeans enveloped his bottom and legs equally as nice.

She felt herself drooling. She had to gain control of the situation... This was it. This was the moment; sure it wasn’t how she had planned it, but the result would still be the same... wouldn’t it? Blow his fucking brains out... God, that second, her heart raced, and she began to perspire... there was another thing that she had rather blow. No, no. You can’t.

His brown hair recently trimmed hung softly behind his ears, and a few bangs dangled across his forehead. He’d let the scruff of his face grow out enough to elude to the beginnings of a beard but still trim enough to hardly measure any length. His soft lips curled into the shape of a cocky smile as he revealed those expensively straight and shiny pearly whites.

“So, we gonna fuck or what?”

That remark got a chuckle from her.

“God, you look fucking amazing.” He remarked, surveying her appearance from head to toe. He posed, “You still banging what’s-his-name? Ty?”

He pulled out one of the walnut dining chairs from the table and straddled it. He took a swig of the bottle and reminded her, “You know, that loser that you left me for... oh, twice?”

“Heard he’d had a girlfriend..." He hummed, “You the, uh, other woman... or it not work out like you expected?”

Nothing.

“Judging that you’re here... again, I’d assume he wasn’t interested.” Jason said after a second, “His loss.”

His patience was wearing thin, which was evident in his peeling off the label of the beer bottle. He granted her an uneasy smile as he placed the beer bottle on the dining table. His focus was on the floor as he continued, “I’m sure you’re here for an apology...”

His eyes met hers instantly, “Or to kill me...”

Roxy’s grasp on the gun did not flinch. It was pointed inches from his forehead. Most likely he knew that she couldn’t pull the trigger... or wouldn’t.

“I can’t apologize enough,” He sighed, rising to his feet. He ambled towards Roxy, getting inches away from her face as the tip of the gun pressed against his chest. He continued, “I was a fucking idiot. Those drugs...”

The gun was right there. He was right there. Why couldn’t she just shoot him?

“Well, they made me a different person. Someone I hated,” Jason sighed, full of shame. “I’m clean... for over a year now. Have been since that day. I went back for you... but you were gone.”

These words were racing through Roxy’s head. Was she questioning her motive? Why did she continue to let him speak? It was only complicating the situation. Shoot!

“It didn’t take long,” he divulged, “The Asians found me, don’t know how... nearly killed me, left me for dead. Stole my money, said you had been paying my debt for the past few months. We’re even. They won’t be bothering us anymore.”

Though the term “even” was a matter of interpretation, this final revelation eased a bit of Roxy’s tension. She would no longer have to wrestle in order to payback Jason’s vice to the Asians. She was finally free of that burden... but he still remained alive.

“As for you,” His breath tickled her lips as he turned his head down to face her. “I can’t live without your forgiveness.”

He was testing her... begging her to kill him.

“But I know you, Rox.” He whispered, “You’ll never forgive me.”

Jason’s hands snaked around her hips, turning her effortlessly to face him. He pushed her against the countertop, and the nagging bulge in his pants pressed against the moist center in between her legs.

“But I also know... that you want me to fuck you. Right here, right now.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Roxy managed to speak. It wasn’t ridiculously impressive, but it was a hell of a lot better than her muted silence.

“Ah, she speaks,” he snickered, as his palm sneaked underneath her plaid skirt, and she moaned softly. A lascivious smile fit his face, “Tell me I’m wrong.”

Well, shit, curse her insatiable libido.

Rashly, his lips closed over hers, and Roxy released the anxiety coursing throughout her veins. He wrapped his arms around her, and she followed suit, gun still in hand. Within seconds, the zip of his fly was down, and upon lifting her legs into his reach, he had entered her. A series of rapid movement and panting ensued on both ends.

Roxy felt the pain, the anger, the frustration, and the sadness of the previous months melting away with each second as she approached her climax. Each thrust recalled the good times that she and Jason had had… mostly fucking. She squealed as he continued to penetrate her deeper. Jason nuzzled her neck as he too grew closer to his eventual end.

Prolonging the divine sensation, Jason whisked the eager redhead to the dining room chair, as he returned to the seat and brought her atop his lap. Now in control, Roxy found her rhythm, while his hands assisted in the quickening of her speed. Sweat began to bead at their brows. Roxy bounced towards her climax, and at the moment of hitting it, she pulsated as Jason soon after hit his peak.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck...” Jason panted into her shoulder. The rocking of Roxy’s hips slowed, yet his grasp still remained. He moaned, “Fuck me... I missed that.”

Her conscience released as well as her pent-up sex drive, Roxy demounted Jason’s lap. He breathlessly laughed as he composed himself and zipped up his pants. Too exhausted to move, he relaxed in the chair.
Roxy, however, now well-focused had returned to her initial course of action. Gun still in hand, she stepped back a few feet and pointed it back at Jason.

“This again?” He chuckled with a skeptical smirk.

“This time I plan to shoot.” Roxy snarled. Her intent was more fervent than ever. She didn’t have that nagging libido distracting her anymore.

“Rox, I fucked up. You can’t hold it against me forever.” Jason sighed, “I didn’t know what I was doing... and I wouldn’t know what I’d have done if you hadn’t lived.”

Her fingers moved, releasing the safety just millimeters above the trigger. Click, the ammo had been loaded in place... all she had to do was shoot.

“Baby, please.”

She clenched her teeth as she discharged the first bullet, going into his right shoulder.

“FUCK!” He exclaimed. Another into the left shoulder... she was careful to miss any bones, piercing the tissue alone. Yet again, “FUCK! GOD, no...”

Tears began to stream down her face, but she held back the emotion setting her insides on fire. She fired another in his left thigh, and one more in his right thigh. A final one shot through his abdomen.

The wounds in Jason’s body began to pool blood and tissue, and a trickle of blood dribbled down his chin from his mouth. He seized from the stinging pain, and finally, he doubled over to crash onto the floor in a fetal position.

One arm cradling his stomach, the other reached for her leg, hoping she would provide assistance, but she jumped away in alarm.

“Rox, help...” He coughed. The crimson color of his blood soon began to stain those once pearly whites.

My God, what had she done? Her hands trembled in shock as she dropped the gun. She’d imagined this moment, but never did she have the intense sentiments of remorse... she’d expected to be so heartless and cold. Almost ten years with this man and she expected to be stoic? Perhaps she wasn’t the sociopath that she’d thought.

“Please...”

Torn with her revenge finally achieved and the overwhelming pain that she had caused to the love of her life, Roxy tried to regulate her breathing. After a few calculated inhales, she managed to maintain control of her breath.

There was an immediate calm... she hadn’t hit any major organs or bones. He would live if he got help quick enough. She had truly achieved her revenge. He’d left her within an inch of her life, and now, she was giving him that same decency. She could have killed him, but she didn’t. God, she loved him still.

She had to get out of there. No the cops wouldn’t arrive, but her mother sure would be back, and ironically enough, Veronika Petrova would be Jason’s ticket to salvation.

The adrenaline surged her as she scooped up the gun and charged the door.

“Fuck, Rox... don’t leave me...” He groaned in pain, “I don’t want to die... I love you...”

“You’ll live,” she exhaled, closing the door behind her.
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