Free Cruel Death by M. William Phelps

anything else about the subject until Erika brought BJ home one day to Altoona and introduced him as her husband.
     
     
    It was just one of those nights that newly married Erika was at home in the apartment but feeling especially down. She wanted more from her husband already. By now, she knew BJ a little bit better. She was scared to push BJ in any direction. Scared, not of him abusing her—but of losing him. Their first year together had been “exciting,” she later explained to a government agent. “We did cocaine and ecstasy five days a week,” she admitted.
    One party after the other.
    Coke. Sex. Bars. Booze. Wild nights.
    Being married to a SEAL was fun and exhilarating for the first twelve months, but was this it? Erika wondered. Routine, sporadic sex, drugs, and then waiting for your husband to return from wherever the navy had sent him this time around. She wanted more out of life.
    As the marriage seemed to burn itself out, and running from the cops after initiating high-speed chases wasn’t satisfying BJ’s thrill-seeking nature, BJ and Erika began burglarizing Hooters restaurants and small businesses and retail stores in and around Altoona. They’d even started a side business on eBay selling the hot merchandise. Erika later said in letters that she was making up to $2,500 per week selling the stolen items—and loving every minute of it.
    Erika not only participated in the burglaries, but she loved the high of being able to break into an establishment and steal things at will. It gave her a sense of power, authority.
    Still, there had to be more to this guy.
    More to life.
    More to being married.
    BJ shocked her one night, Erika later said. “I want kids,” he said. It was out of the blue. She had no idea he was even thinking about it.
    She was pleasantly surprised. “Kids?”
    “Yeah. I want you to get pregnant.”
    What a turnaround. Overnight, the guy had gone from a criminal to someone who wanted to become a parent. This wasn’t the BJ she knew. But then maybe he was ready to settle down and change. By now, BJ had already been discharged from the military. They had opened Memory Laine, their scrapbooking business. Save for the thieving and drugs, one could say, they were living a fairly contemporary married life.
    But both were obviously bored.
    It didn’t take long. That first month passed and Erika missed her period. She was ecstatic. Maybe this was it? Maybe BJ was destined to become a father and everything would take on a new significance. She could live like her parents. Erika was not just an only child; she was the only child in the family. No cousins. Erika beamed with the glow of being a new mother. She was five feet six inches, plus, with BJ on her all the time about her weight, she had whittled herself down to almost nothing at ninety-five pounds. So, after three and a half months, she stood one night in front of a mirror and had herself a moment. BJ wasn’t home. She relished having the child. It was going to be magnificent.
    Wonderful.
    She hadn’t known it, but it was just what she had wanted.
    In between her third and fourth month (Erika couldn’t recall the exact time when she was asked about it later), BJ came home with several of his SEAL buddies one night. They were drunk. BJ had “this look” on his face. He wanted something.
    What have I done? Erika thought immediately.
    “I don’t want kids,” BJ came out and said. “You thought I wanted to be a dad? You stupid whore. I don’t want no kid.”
    Erika was confused. “You what ?”
    “You heard me. Get rid of the kid.”
    She started crying. She knew it wouldn’t do anything. But she couldn’t help it.
    “Beej—”
    “Either we get it out, here and now—I’m going to dig it out of you with a coat hanger—or you go to the clinic in the morning. Your choice.”
    BJ walked away.
    Enough said.
    No more discussion about it.
    The following morning, BJ drove Erika down to the local clinic and she got the abortion.