Bobby knew he’d be back to the same address. He just thought it wouldn’t be hours later. He feared the worst was going to happen some day when the domestic violence calls started a few months ago. The scene inside the house made Bobby cringe.
The couple that were the subjects of the calls was dead, and kneeling beside the bodies sobbing, a pistol on the floor beside her, was Bobby’s wife.
Bobby clutched his stomach in disgust and disbelief. “Helen, what the hell are you doing here,” Bobby engulfed her in his arms.
Helen looked at her husband, “He said he loved me.”
Bobby stood, slowly walked outside, and sent in two uniformed cops to arrest his wife.