Stung

Mallory Claire Blake stared down into the face of her fiance. He stared back into her face, gripping her hips and gasping. Her mouth tipped upward at the corners in a slight smirk as she bent to kiss his lips. She pulled back to see his eye roll upward and she gasped, her smile growing wider.

She'd met Philip while on the final week of her vacation. It had been easy to strike up a conversation with him. He was sweet and she'd instantly felt a strong attraction. He gave the appearance of someone faking their financial status.

Instead of spending the rest of her vacation wandering around solo, she'd spent it in a whirlwind romance with Philip. He lived in the Keys and knew all the hidden gems. He wined and dined her. In that week he had captured her Texan heart.

When it was time for her to return to the reality of work and responsibilities, he'd been the one to take her to the airport. Even then he had tried to convince her to stay. She had a life, an apartment, and a 5th grade class looking forward to meeting their new teacher.

Every night they were apart was filled with phone calls and sweet text messages. She fell hard and fast so when he showed up at her door three weeks later with a three karat engagement ring, she hadn't hesitated to say yes. She was so eager to be Mrs. Carver that her costume jewelry engagement ring hadn’t bothered her.

It was on the first day she moved in that she found the little black book. Its textured cover was slightly worn, an elastic band held it closed. She thought she had stumbled upon his personal journal and could not resist opening it to the page marked by a fraying ribbon towards the back of the notebook.

Disgust and anger had immediately overcome her as she read. She wanted to march in there cancel their honeymoon plans and walk out with the evidence but as she continued to scan the pages, a plan formed. Prison was too good for a piece of shit like him and she had had 2 days to find something fitting.

A loud gasp from Philip pulled her from her thoughts. His eyes were still locked on her face as his hands dug desperately into her hips. She softly touched his cheek then stepped back from him, sweeping her flowing beach gown behind her. Her smile turned into a sneer and she spit in his face.

That little black book. That. Small. Damning. Black. Notebook.

Once she was free of him she would turn that little black book over to the FBI. As his new bride, would she be entitled to his money or would it be seized? His car? The house?

She looked down at what she originally thought was a fake engagement ring, its large diamond now nestled into the curve of a matching wedding band. The set had to be worth at least $20,000 and if she walked away from this with nothing else, it was more than enough to return home and resume her life at the elementary school. For now, she needed to play her part.

Philip’s gasping had stopped and he lie still on the floor. She stepped over his body, slid the door to the patio open, and stepped out into the angry swarm she had released on Philip 10 minutes earlier. After enduring several seconds in the swarm she picked up the phone and dialed 911.

"Help! My fiance! He can't breathe! The bees! They were beneath the upper patio!" she wailed, her fake hysteria rising. "I can't find his EpiPen!”