Josh Miller is a Killer - Free Excerpt 1-1

Chapter 1, Part 1

“Belly? Belly Kelly. Is that you?”

I stood in line for the pharmacy at the CVS in Carolina Shores, trying to ignore the question even though it was directed at me. After more than thirty years away from the area, I couldn’t manage to shake off the nickname I loathed.  My mom was the only one who still called me Belly and only because I couldn’t break her of the habit.

My real name is Bellamy, Belly having been my unchosen nickname until I left for college when I was eighteen.  Now, I’m 53 years old and back in my hometown. I moved back only a short time ago, and bad memories from my past were already slapping me in the face.

My full name is Bellamy Ann Kelly, and I’m pretty much a mess. Socially, I’m inept. Physically, I’m nothing to write home about. Sexually, I’m dead inside. Emotionally, I’m too self-aware. Intellectually, I’m a legend in my own mind.

Seeing as my mental health fluctuates between anxiety, depression, and contentment, I’m a mental crapshoot. For example, two minutes ago, I was lonely. Now, I wouldn’t mind moving into a cave all by myself and never having to interact with another human being ever again.

“Psst, Belly?”

The voice was male and punctuated by a smoker’s constant cough/throat-clearings. The guy must’ve been right behind me, too, because I could smell the cigarette smoke on him. But I refused to turn around. The slightest acknowledgement would only encourage him. Then the guy was beside me, waving his hand in front of my face.

“Earth to Belly,” he said.

I knocked his hand away.

“Ow. That really hurt. What the hell, Belly?”

“My name’s not Belly. Go away.”

“Yes, it is. It’s Belly Kelly. I recognize you from high school.” He touched a hand to his chest. “It’s me, Josh Miller. Remember me?”

Holy crap. I did remember him. Of all the people I could’ve run into now that I was back home, why him?

Josh grinned from ear to ear. “You do remember me. I can see it on your face.” He guffawed. “Your eyes almost bugged out of your head.”

I gave up. Maybe if I were nice to him, he’d leave me alone. “Yeah. Hey, Josh. How’s it going?”

“Oh, you know. Staying out of trouble.” He nudged my arm with his elbow and cracked up again. “At least for now, if you know what I mean.”

I figured I did know what he meant, since he was always getting into trouble back in high school.

He sniffed me. “At least you aren’t smelly anymore.”

I narrowed my eyes, and clenched my fists around the strap of my crossbody bag so I wouldn’t punch him. “I was never smelly, Josh. That was based on a rumor started by Tracy Boyle that I had farted in class. I always suspected that she was deflecting blame because she was the one who had farted.”

He stepped closer to me. “Watch what you say about Tracy. She’s my wife.”

“The two biggest bullies in school ended up together. Go figure.”

Josh stuck his finger in my face. “Who are you calling a bully?”

“Get your finger out of my face before I bite it off.”

I snapped my teeth at him, and he dropped his hand.

With a sneer, Josh said, “You’re still a bitch and a snob.”

“At least I’m not smelly like your farting bully of a wife.”

“She’s not smelly. You are. You’re Smelly Belly.”

I rolled my eyes. “Grow up, Josh.”

“Smelly Belly. Smelly Belly.”

Since it was my turn at the pharmacy counter, I just walked away. At least I tried to walk away. Josh grabbed my arm, and I could either stop or dislocate my shoulder joint trying to get out of his tight grip. I chose to stop.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He was practically foaming from the mouth with anger.

Although it seemed counterintuitive, his rage calmed me. I went limp, pulling him off balance. Then I performed a self-defense move on him that I’d learned long ago when I’d lived in Raleigh. The maneuver ended well for me. But Josh wound up squealing in pain with blood dripping from his nose. 

© Bethanni Porter 2024

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