The Devil's Beating His Wife (32 page)

My thoughts turned towards my brother. I accepted my part in his death. For some reason, one of the Bennett boys had taken a keen liking to me, and the other Bennett had used that to hurt his brother. I wished that my mama had never responded to the newspaper ad seeking a housekeeper. I wished that Baxter had noticed Mary-Alice long before he'd noticed me. I just wished things had turned out so differently.

No matter how many wishes I thought of, none of it would change. Not my brother's death. Not my own.

So many people stood around me, but none of them knew I existed. Here, in this crowded room, I felt the loneliest. It all felt so unfair. The injustice had never been resolved. It was time I did something about that.

Baxter was partially right. I never would have loved him. Not during my lifetime, at least.

However, I was no longer alive. I hadn't been for a very long time. And during that time, I had gotten to know a different side of Baxter. A nurturing side. A gentle side. He was still arrogant and bossy, but I did see the good parts of him. Did that mean I loved him? I didn't know the answer.

But, I did know my choices were very limited.

Pushing my hands into the pockets of my dress, I began to move slowly down the hallway towards Carver's room. Outside the door, I debated with myself about how to proceed. Should I run inside and forgive Baxter for being a selfish bastard? That was really my only choice if I didn't want to resign myself to an afterlife filled with loneliness.

I stepped inside the room and watched his shoulders stiffen. I tried to think of something to say, but nothing came to mind. I walked to his side and placed my hand on top of his head. I patted his golden hair, offering my forgiveness.

He cocked his head to the side and peered at me through his lashes. "Really, Spicey?"

"You should be grateful that I even bothered to come in here. I hate it when men sulk. You look like big pathetic babies." I grabbed his hand and pushed it towards his mouth. "You might as well suck on your thumb to get the full effect."

He let me control his hand. His open hand slapped against his mouth a few times. Eventually, he cracked a smile. "Enough."

I held his hand in mine. Then I placed my other hand behind the back of his head and pulled his head towards my stomach. He rested his head there for a second before he wrapped his arms around my waist. He buried his nose into the fabric of my dress. I stroked his soft hair.

"As much as I hate to admit it, you're all I got now, Baxter."

"Vheg agt olgen?" he asked into my stomach.

I grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled his head away. "What?"

His blue eyes once again danced with merriment. "What about Colsen?"

"Oh, shut up, Baxter," I said, pushing his head back into my stomach.

He sighed loudly and snuggled deeper. His hands began to slide up my dress, brushing across my thighs. His lips pressed against my belly button. He stayed in that position as I combed my fingers through his hair. Then he grabbed onto my waist, lifted me into the air, and placed me onto to my back, right in the middle of Carver's bed.

"We should probably shut the door," Baxter said as he began to kiss down my neck.

I glanced towards the door. Nurses pushed carts down the corridor. Residents chatted with each other as they walked past Carver's open door. "I don't think they'll notice."

He pulled away long enough to pull his shirt over his head. I ran my fingers over his undershirt and pinched at the fabric. He smiled broadly as he pulled the undershirt off.

I grabbed the edges of my dress and wiggled it up my body. Baxter's hands slid down my torso and over my hips. His thumb hooked onto my panties and pulled them down my legs.

He stretched out on top of me and wrapped his fingers around my throat. He kissed a trail from my ears to my collarbone. I fumbled at the zipper of his pants. He arched his back so I could have easier access. I pushed his pants as far as I could reach, and then he took over by kicking them from his legs.

I laughed when he flopped back on top of me. He grinned at me as his thumb traced my bottom lip. "This is going to be different."

"It's not like this is the first time for us," I countered.

"That other time didn't really count," he said.

I nodded. "Yes, it did."

He kissed the corner of my mouth. He pulled away briefly to give me a shy smile, and then he brushed his lips over mine. Instead of using words to prove his point, he allowed our kiss to do so.

I could feel the cold air begin to swirl around our bodies. Baxter's essence flowed from his body into mine. I could feel our bodies fusing together.

Abruptly, he pulled away. "We need to get the rest of our clothes off."

He pushed and tugged at his underpants. I unhooked my bra and tossed it across the room. It collided with a lamp in the corner of the room, rocking it on its base.

"Oops," I said.

"Never mind," Baxter whispered, once again kissing me.

I placed my hand on his back and wrapped my legs around his hips. One of his hands braced the back of my neck while the other slid over my stomach to cup one of my breasts. I purred with pleasure as his thumb stroked my nipple. The intense sensation was a surprise to me.

Baxter lowered his head and took my nipple into his mouth. I bucked under his attention. He made soothing sounds as he suckled me.

I must not have been very cooperative because Baxter flipped me onto my stomach. I got to my knees in order to turn back around, but he placed his hand at the small of my back and pushed me down again. I would have voiced my objection but he leaned forward and began to nibble the nape of my neck.

He pushed his leg between mine, separating them. Then he adjusted his position over me and guided his tip into my passage. He wove his fingers between mine just as he thrust forward.

My head fell back as I felt him move deeply into me. As my back arched, his returned to cupping my breast. He twisted and pulled at my nipple as his thrusts grew stronger and swifter.

I closed my eyes and then opened them to focus on the wall. My gaze connected with the mirror. I saw Baxter and me. His head buried between my head and shoulder. My head thrown back as I watched us in the mirror.

Just as I was rushing towards completion, someone stepped into the room, walked past the mirror, and went to the window. I gasped Baxter's name loudly as we rocked from a shared orgasm.

As my soul returned to my body, I focused on the intruder, fearing it was Colsen.

It wasn't. It was Carver. He stood at the window and began to unbutton his shirt.

"This can't be happening," Baxter groaned into my neck.

Carver turned away from the window and looked down at his unkempt bed. "What the hell happened here?"

Baxter and I froze. Carver couldn't see us and had no idea what had just happened on his bed, but that didn't make things any less awkward. I looked towards the mirror and giggled at the appalled look on Baxter's face.

He looked in the direction of my gaze and then did a double-take. "Will he see us if he looks into the mirror?"

"Possibly," I said, laughing even harder.

Baxter leapt off me and stood next to the bed. He reached down and grabbed Carver's pillow to cover his private parts. Carver opened his mouth and a high-pitched wail filled the air.

His distress brought more people into the room. Nurses huddled at the doorway. Mr. Huckabee rolled by behind the nurses. They all gave an audible gasp when they saw the pillow hovering in the air.

"Drop the pillow, Baxter," I ordered him.

He looked at me and then at the people in the doorway. He finally dropped the pillow and stepped backwards, colliding with the nightstand. A glass slid off the nightstand and crashed onto the floor.

I couldn't contain it any longer. I began to whoop and holler with laughter as Baxter turned beet red.

"Can you hear that?" asked the female nurse at the door.

"I don't hear anything, but I did just see something. What in the hell was that?" A male nurse stepped further into the room, but was stopped by the female nurse.

"I heard laughter, didn't you?" she asked him.

They turned towards Carver. He threw his hands into the air. "I didn't do anything. You saw it with your own eyes. That pillow was floating in the middle of the air, then it slammed into my nightstand."

As Carver bickered with the nurses, I decided it was a good time to extract myself from the situation. I slid from the bed, which resulted in the sheets being bunched on the edge of the mattress. Carver pointed at them while I darted across the room, retrieving my clothes.

Over in a corner, Baxter was shoving his legs into his pants. "Am I the only one feeling a bit ashamed?"

I pulled my bra straps over my shoulders. "It certainly looks like it."

He shot me a naughty glance as he pulled his shirt over his head. When he was completely dressed, he placed his back against the wall and blew air out through his cheeks. "C'mere," he said, motioning for me to join him.

I grabbed my dress from the floor and walked towards him. He took it from my hands, widened its opening, and pulled it over my head. I raised my arms and he pulled the dress down into place. I had just dropped my arms when he grabbed me and pulled me close. He lowered his head and claimed my mouth in another soul-sharing kiss.

As my fingers glided through his cool hair, my thoughts turned from the Bennett in my arms to the Bennett in the room. I would never find peace until one of them was permanently gone from my life.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

July 4, 2014, Laurens County

Baxter stood in the lobby with a group of veterans. They all faced the television with their hands pressed over their hearts as they sung the national anthem. It was the Fourth of July, and Baxter had been watching television for most of the day. One channel was broadcasting back to back shows about the war, which was how many of the older residents still referred to the Second World War.

We hadn't been alive to learn the outcome of that particular war, but I assumed we must have won; otherwise, people would be walking around speaking German or Japanese. I did learn that in the decades that followed, the US had gotten into a few more wars. The Korean War. The Vietnam War. The wars in Afghanistan and Iraq. I hadn't even heard of many of these places when I was alive.

I stood aside, watching Baxter stare at the screen. His eyes widened whenever he recognized a place that he had visited. His fingers tightened into fists whenever the body of a dead soldier was shown.

Baxter averted his eyes when I decided to approach him. I placed my hand on his shoulder. "Would you like to go for a walk? It's a beautiful day."

A sad smile danced across his lips. He kissed the back of my hand and looked back at the television. "Maybe later. They're talking about Ardennes now. I was there...." His voice faded as he got caught up in the images. He pointed towards a soldier on the screen. "Hey! I knew that guy."

It was no use trying to carry on a conversation with him. The war had been a defining time in our short lives. It had shaped many of his experiences, and I understood his need to be around those who'd shared those experiences.

I backed out of the room and walked down the hallway that led to Carver's bedroom. Some residents had been taken into town to watch a fireworks show. Those that remained were mostly gathered around the television. Then there was lonely Carver.

The door to his room was closed and locked, but locks really don't work against the dead. I grasped the knob and felt it turn in my hand. I pushed the door open gently, so as not to alert Carver to my arrival. I stepped inside and eased the door shut.

He was asleep in his bed. That's really all he ever did. He had no friends to socialize with. No hobbies to occupy his time. He would either slump down into his rocking chair or bury himself under the covers of his bed and fall asleep.

I crept up to the bed and touched the soft fabric of his comforter. It had been a couple weeks since Baxter and I had made love on the bed. I gathered the corner of the comforter in my hand, and I pulled it from Carver's body.

He immediately shot up in bed. His eyes were wide with fright. "Who's there?"

I kept silent as he looked around the room. I didn't move an inch as I didn't want to knock anything over and give my presence away. I waited until Carver grabbed his comforter, settled it over his body, and relaxed enough to fall back asleep. Minutes ticked by as I allowed him to doze.

His face relaxed as he slept. Even with his droopy eyelids and deep frown lines, I could still see the Bennett features in him. The slight resemblance between him and Baxter made me hesitate. Was this how Baxter would have looked if he'd lived to old age?

This man had murdered my brother. He had stormed into my house, dragged my brother from his bed, and forced him to dress in his Navy uniform. I remember my mother's tears as we huddled in the hallway, terrified of Carver and his friends. We didn't know what they wanted, at first. We just knew they intended to cause trouble.

I could recall that night so clearly. Even more clearly than my own death. I remembered the hatred on Carver's face. I could recall Baxter's surprise and disbelief.

This old pathetic man had ruined so many lives. And here he was, sleeping peacefully in his bed. Loved by his son. Loved by his dead brother.

But none of that mattered anymore. I was going to kill him. I'd made the decision many, many nights before, but I hadn't been sure when I would murder him.

With so many residents gone and others preoccupied with the television, I knew that tonight was the time. I placed a knee on the bed and hoisted myself off of the floor. I watched Carver's face closely for any hint that he might be waking.

I lifted my other leg and settled it over Carver's stomach. He didn't feel a thing. Living things couldn't feel my presence. I squatted over his body as I tugged a pillow from under his head. I moved slowly, inching it out from under him.