Free Save the Last Bullet for God by J.T. Alblood

boyfriend, Robert Johann
Koldewey. He’s the son of the famous Sumeriologist. They met a long
time ago when she was receiving lessons in the Sumerian language
from his father. Now they’re just crazy love birds.”
    “Welcome, darling! We’ve been talking about
you,” Maria said.
    “About me?” I turned around at the familiar
rough, confident sound of the man’s voice, and I began to fill up
with rage.
    When you come across a man with the potential
to get the women in your life, such rage isn’t far behind.
    He was past middle age, with sharp facial
lines, abundant black hair carefully combed back, and a small wound
pulling his eyebrow up slightly. I must confess, he was really
handsome and had a unique aura. If we’d met somewhere else in other
circumstances…No, I would have still hated him.
    “Are you okay?” Hellen whispered.
    I realized I was holding her hand a bit too
tightly in my anger. Taking a deep breath and trying to count to
ten, I whispered to her, “Yes, I’m fine,” before speaking louder to
address the group.
    “Yes, we were talking about you. I owe Maria
a favor, and I was just offering to take you all out to a
nightclub. If you agree, we can go now.”
    Berton smiled.
    “Drinks, music, and a night out: it sounds
good, so why not?” he said.
    Maria caught sight of my eyes, fiery with
desire. Before she could object, Berton silenced her with a
kiss.
     
    . . .
    The underground pub was crowded. The sounds
of jazz and the swirl of heavy cigarette smoke filled the room. The
women wore fancy, exaggerated outfits, while the men as the night
wore on loosened their ties.
    Beyond the din of enthusiastic conversations
and laughter, we found a quiet back table. There, we caught up with
the crowd, and before we knew it, we were sipping our third drinks.
Burying myself in the leather sofa, I shook the ice cubes in my
whisky glass and snuggled up with Hellen.
    With her head on Berton’s shoulder, Maria
seemed lost in the sultry voice of the black girl on stage. I was
completely distracted, thinking about whether this would be the
last or best day of my life. I was drunk with Maria’s presence and
anxious from the expectations of so many long years.
    The young officer asked the girl to dance and
Berton stood up as well and tried to convince Maria to go out on
the floor. Maria said she didn’t feel like dancing, so, feeling
disappointed, Berton did what was expected of him and asked the
woman by my side to dance. Hellen went with him, though
reluctantly.
    Maria and I were now alone for the first time
in years. She leaned back slightly and moved closer to me, with her
eyes on the stage. I had a lot to say, and I was in a big hurry,
doubtful I’d have another chance to talk like this again.
    “The old caregiver?” This was her first
question.
    “He died. They pumped his stomach, but they
couldn’t save him. More than thirty pills were removed—”
    “We couldn’t get out of that place without
the keys,” she muttered angrily.
    I looked at her. I could tell by her face
that she felt some regret for the old man’s death.
    “What about your fiancé?”
    “My fiancé? Oh, Peter, you mean. It would not
have worked anyway. We broke up in Munich shortly after.”
    “So he wasn’t the reason you left me?”
    “He was a tool, and, when he lost his
function, I was done with him.”
    “You mean like me?”
    “As for you... well…I did not even know you,
and I was stuck in a very bad situation. To be honest, I couldn’t
have done it without you.”
    “I went to Munich a few times looking for
you. I wandered around the city hoping to see you again.”
    “It would not have changed anything.”
    “Back then I thought it would. Fate, chance,
and so on.”
    “I would call it fate that you told me about
the Sumerians. That allowed me to find the source of my delusions
and the language of those who were in touch with me. And, of
course, that’s how I met Berton,” she said looking straight