Stick to your guns

Aaron hid himself behind the drapes, just to be safe from the bloodshed. He’d activated the time machine’s invisible option when he left 2012, but still wanted to play it safe.

The girls wailed in the background. Jeffrey and Colette argued in the kitchen about money, about jobs, about sex. He called her a slut, she called him a pussy, he said she never did anything around the house, she said he was a cocksucking loser. Dishes crashes, glasses broke, and the knives fell on the floor.

Aaron peeked from the drapes to have a look. Jeffrey picked up the knife, Colette screamed, and he buried the knife in her chest. Aaron had never heard the blood-curdling sound so guttural as what next came out of Colette’s mouth. She sank to the floor and the children ran up the stairs.

But he followed, a butcher’s knife in his left hand and an ice pick in the right.

Aaron had had enough. He’d gotten what he came for, proof Jeffrey MacDonald was a guilty as sin.