The Devil's Beating His Wife (33 page)

Once I held it in my hand, I squatted and then pressed the pillow down firmly over his face. Carver tried to buck me off, but there was no body to push off. I put all of my strength into holding the pillow in place as he squirmed and fought to remove it.

I pressed the pillow down harder as Carver kicked his feet. I didn't know how long it would take for him to finally die, but I was willing to sit there all night.

It took several minutes before he stopped moving. When he finally stilled, I lifted the pillow away from his face. I stared down at the man who had caused so much pain. Carver was finally dead, and his expression was one of utter serenity.

I roared with fury as I hurled the pillow from the bed.

Then a loud cry filled the room. I turned and found a screaming Carver staring back at me from the corner of the room. I bounced from the bed and stared at him. Then I looked back at his dead body on the bed and I cursed savagely. "Fuck."

Carver's spirit continued to stand in the corner yelling his head off. "Did you just murder me? I hope you roast in Hell!"

I hurled myself across the room and slapped him across the face. I continued to strike him until he shriveled under my hand. He kept screaming as my fists pounded him.

"Got yourself into quite the pickle," said a new voice.

I stepped back and looked in the direction of the voice. Standing beneath the hideous mirror was Colsen's small frame. His black eyes were pinned on Carver. His thin lips parted in a gleeful smile. "I didn't think you had it in you, girl." Colsen stepped out of the shadows and approached us. "So, this is the one that started it all?" He kicked Carver with his boot. "Quit your hollering."

"How could you be so stupid?" I roared. Those words were directed at me. I had focused completely on the peace I would gain from killing Carver. I failed to consider his soul could be trapped in this place with me. I groaned as I stared down at Carver's huddled form.

Colsen rocked back on his heels and pulled at the straps of his overalls. "I agree you were stupid." He glanced towards the door. "And what you gonna do about your beau? I can't imagine him being too happy about you killing his brother."

The words had barely left his mouth when the door swung open and Baxter barged into the room. He looked at Carver's empty body on the bed, and then his gaze swung around to Carver's spirit at my feet. Baxter's mouth opened in shock as Carver launched from the floor towards him.

"You got to help me, Baxter." Carver grabbed his big brother's shoulders. Wrapping his arms around Baxter's neck, he began to slide back down to the floor. "What has she done to me?"

Baxter's surprise was quickly suppressed by his need to take command. "You need to calm down, Carver."

"But, I'm dead," his brother whimpered.

"Yes, you are. No use crying about it no more. You ain't going to do a damn thing to change that. Now, get up off the floor and stop your blabbering." Baxter pulled Carver to his feet and shot Colsen a spiteful look. "What are you doing?"

Colsen shook his head. "Ain't no way I was about to miss this."

Baxter stared at the bed. He wouldn't even look in my direction when he asked, "Who did this to you, Carver?"

Carver's eyes widened as he pointed at me. "You know good and damn well who did this to me. It was that nigg—" The word was cut off as Baxter pulled his fist back and punched his brother in the mouth. Carver stumbled to the ground and held his hand to his mouth. "You hit me?"

"I did," Baxter said, pulling Carver to his feet again. "And I'll keep hitting you so long as you keep using that word."

"You never had a problem with it before," Carver said.

Baxter grabbed onto Carver's pajama shirt and yanked him from his feet. "I've grown sick and damned tired of you. I promise you here and now that if I hear that word cross your lips again, I'm going to shove my fist through the back of your head. You understand me, Carver?"

Carver yanked away from Baxter's grasp. He adjusted his clothing and chose not to acknowledge Baxter's words. He shot me a snotty look, but then his gaze settled on the floor.

From the corner, Colsen clucked his tongue. "This ain't gonna do."

"What do you mean?" I asked him. I was staring at Baxter, hoping he would look in my direction. But he kept his eyes lowered.

Colsen stepped into the center of the room. He pointed in my direction. "I like you." He pointed at Baxter. "I tolerate you." He hooked his thumb towards Carver. "But I ain't gonna put up with your brother." He grabbed the back of Carver's collar and dragged him towards the door. Carver tried to get away, but Colsen was much stronger.

"Baxter," Carver pleaded.

"Looks like I'm going to have to clean up this mess," Colsen said as he hauled away the panicked Carver.

"Carver!" Baxter ran into the hallway and I followed. He tried to block Colsen. "What are you doing with him?"

Colsen placed his hand on Baxter's chest. He gave what looked like a gentle push, but the force of it slammed Baxter against the wall. "I'm going to do to him what I'll do to you if you don't mind your damn business." Colsen glanced back at me. "Any objections from you, girl?"

"No, sir," I said.

Baxter got to his feet. He didn't even bother to approach Colsen again. Baxter watched helplessly as Colsen pushed open the front doors, lifted Carver into the air, and hurled him outside.

As Colsen walked back into the lobby, Baxter rushed past him. He shoved the front doors open and stared into the pitch-black night. Then he stepped out, disappearing as the doors closed behind him.

Colsen walked past me and gave me a saucy wink. Then he strode into the shadow and vanished.

I turned and ran towards the front doors. I slammed against a door, falling out onto the porch. Baxter had disappeared. I got to my feet and ran down the steps. My eyes scanned the yard as I tried to find Baxter. I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. I twisted around and found Baxter standing behind me, staring up at the sky.

"He's gone," he whispered.

To Hell, I hoped, releasing a sigh of relief. I shortened the distance between us. I lifted my hand to touch his shoulder, but he smacked it away. I looked down at my hand as he stalked way from me.

Baxter ran up the steps and shoved the doors open. He was clearly angry at me for what I had done to his brother. I didn't regret killing him, but I would regret losing my only friend. After all these years, the tables had finally turned. Now I was the one who would have to fight for forgiveness.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

July 5, 2014, Laurens County

The home buzzed with activity. As usual, I observed silently, detached from those around me. I watched as the people of Colsen Manor walked by Carver's door, unaware he was no longer inside.

At nine in the morning, the first shift nurse did her daily rounds. She knocked on Carver's door, but when she didn't get a response, she didn't become alarmed. She figured he was probably sleeping in.

It wasn't until Carver's son stopped by for a surprise visit that anyone noticed something was wrong. A nurse knocked on his door and shouted that Frankie was there for a visit. When Carver didn't respond, the nurse grabbed a master key and unlocked his door.

Frankie immediately broke down in sobs as he looked at his father's dead body. The nurse rushed to cover Carver's body with a blanket. She then escorted Frankie from the room and requested the doctor on call come to Carver's room.

The doctor stood over Carver's body and took his vital signs. There weren't any. The doctor pronounced Carver's death and wrote the details of when, where, and how he died. I looked over his shoulder to see what he wrote as the cause of death. It said "death by natural causes".

I grinned from relief. I'd been convinced that someone would know. That someone would notice. But I figured this was one sorry excuse of a doctor, and I thanked my lucky stars.

I slipped out of the room and walked into the lobby where Frankie was being consoled by a local priest. They sat on a couch, their heads bowed as the priest recited a prayer for Carver. I shook my head. No amount of prayers would save Carver's soul.

As Frankie spoke fondly of his father, I leaned on the couch and tried to muster up a bit of guilt. Carver had been someone's father after all. I shouldn't feel so gleeful when his death caused an innocent person such grief.

The priest patted Frankie's hand and stood. Frankie thanked the man and accepted the card the priest gave him. I moved back as the priest stepped forward.

"Don't get too close. You remember the last time you ran into a holy man."

The sound of Baxter's voice startled me so much that I froze. The priest nodded in Frankie's direction and then strode right through me. I waited for a feeling of loss to overcome me. But it didn't.

I slapped at my body. I accessed every little piece of me that I was aware of. I felt completely whole. Nothing gone. Nothing gained.

Baxter grabbed my arm and spun me around. "Are you okay? Spicey, talk to me."

I rubbed my face with my fingers and then I laughed loudly. "I'm okay, Baxter. That didn't bother me one bit."

We shared a grin as the priest left the lobby and walked out of the home. As the sound of his nephew's sobs reached him, the grin fell from Baxter's face. I grabbed his hand, not wanting him to leave me.

He looked down at my hand gripping his. The corner of his mouth quirked. "Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere," he said, leaning towards me and placing a kiss on my brow. I relaxed my hold and watched as Baxter went to his nephew and placed his hands on his nephew's shoulders.

Colsen appeared behind Baxter and his nephew. He rested his hands on the back of the couch. "You ain't as pure as you used to be," he said, looking right at me.

"I never thought that I was," I responded.

Colsen smiled. "You ain't following my meaning. I'm talking about that preacher man. The last one took a bit of your soul because you was innocent of all this. But this time, he didn't even leave a scratch on you. Know why?" He chuckled. "I reckon you do."

Baxter looked over his shoulder at Colsen. "Who are you?"

The old man lifted his hand and mimicked shooting a gun. "I done told you that, and I ain't 'bout to repeat myself." He nodded in my direction. "Y'all have a good day now." He winked at me and then began to whistle. Colsen faded away, leaving a shimmery void behind.

Baxter raised his hand and ran his fingers through the shimmer. He pulled his hand back as if he'd been burned. As he looked at me, he rubbed his fingers against his shirt. "What are we going to do about that guy?"

"That's not the question to ask."

Baxter frowned. "What is the right question, then?" The confusion on his face tickled me for some reason. His hair stood on end as if he'd run his fingers a thousand times through those strands.

"We should be asking ourselves, what can he do to us? If he has the power to keep us stuck in this place, and the power to send your brother to where ever he is, I really don't want to find out what else he can do to me." I flicked his chin with my finger. "Besides, I think he likes me more than you."

A sad smile curled the corner of his lips. He watched as his nephew struggled to control his emotions. Baxter's eyes darkened. "For a moment, I forgot about Carver." He sighed heavily. "You killed him, Spicey. You killed my little brother."

I stared at my hands, not knowing what to do with them. I bit my lip as I stifled a grin. I was rather proud of myself, but I didn't think Baxter would appreciate that particular sentiment. "You're right. I did, and I'm not going to apologize."

Baxter shoved his hands deep into his pockets and shuffled his feet. His mouth opened as if he was going to say something, but then he closed it tightly with a click. His mouth twisted as he fell deep into thought. After a few moments of awkward silence, he finally said, "I know sometimes I can be a lot to handle. I know many of my faults. I'm stubborn and prideful. I tend to only care about myself, and I never really cared about how many people I hurt as long as I got my way." He pulled his hands from his pockets and grabbed my hands. His thumbs traced soft circles on my palms. "But, I love you. I feel like I have always loved you. Any choice I've made, I've made it because I thought it would make me a better man. In my selfishness, I failed to acknowledge your wishes. I thought I could make you love me. I didn't really stop to consider it was your choice." He paused. Closing his eyes, he licked his dry lips. "What am I saying?"

I leaned onto my tiptoes, pulled one of my hands away, and traced my fingertips across his lips. He opened his eyes and gazed into mine. "Whatever it is, it doesn't need to be said. Your brother was an evil man. It seemed unfair to me that a man who caused so much torment would die peacefully in his bed one day. I don't regret what I did. I only regret that it didn't happen sooner."

"That should really bother me more than it does." His smile lit his eyes. "If I'm honest with myself, I can admit the relationship between Carver and me died long ago. Long before any of us died. Things always came easy for me. For Carver, he seemed to make everything harder for himself. I know I should be angry that you killed him, but I honestly don't feel as though I need to mourn him. I've said all of my goodbyes."

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

July 12, 2014, Laurens County

"And you promise if I do this, you'll forgive me?" I asked Baxter.

He stood away from me, chewing on his bottom lip. "I promise."

I placed my hands on my hips and glared at him. "You promise not to break your promise?"

"Spicey." His eyes narrowed as his lips disappeared into a thin line.