'Til Death Do Us Part (EP. 2)

Clean-up. She'd known they were watching her, but to have proof of it made the hairs on the back of her neck prickle.

If a jury ever asked, she would deny it tooth and nail, but, Casey's decision to end her husbands life had been researched and planned for months. Funneling the money to pay clean-up and covertly buy a gun had been a challenge, but she'd been a grim mix of determined and hollow. Trenton Baites hadn't deserved to live. And even though she'd convinced herself that her cause was noble, right now she felt anything but.

She'd seen the way his eyes had widened when she'd drawn the small pistol from the pocket of her robe, pointing it at his forehead with tears in her eyes, but bone-chilling accuracy. He'd been taunting her for the hundreth time about Ryan. She could still hear his voice, as smooth as it was, grating on her eardrums.

"You're up to what, three miscarriages now? Hey, punch that card two more times, maybe you'll get a free toy."

The words had sliced white hot through her abdomen, where once again another baby had sensed Trenton's evil and politely ejected itself from her womb. Her eyes watered at how close she'd come. At six months, Ryan had been her longest pregnancy and she'd finally allowed herself some hope. But no sooner than he had a nursery and a name, Ryan's heart had unexpectedly stopped beating. The doctor's words and worried expression played in her mind at least 10 times a day.

"I'm sorry Mrs. Baites, we just can't find a heartbeat."

When she'd turned to the sink beside the bathtub, gripping the edges to keep from launching herself at her husbands perfect face and scratching his eyes out with her bare hands, he'd reached up, gripping her soft hand with his wet one.

"It's okay, sweetheart," he'd said in the warm country tone that had hooked her into his web. "With a body like that, you were meant to swallow kids, not carry 'em. I'd rather that anyway than for you to stretch yourself out bringing some brat into the world."

A strange calm had washed over her. She'd turned back to him with a sad smile, drawing the death dealing metal from her inner robe pocket.

She assumed that the "them" the message referred to had been 911, so she closed the bathroom door and exhaled a shaky breath. The adrenaline was way past wearing off. Would it be impertinent to go make a cup of coffee while her husband lay dead in the bathtub? Also, did anyone even use the word impertinent anymore?

"To hell with it," she muttered aloud, striding to the kitchen with numb legs. He didn't control her anymore and whatever he wanted evidently stopped mattering to her to second she pulled the trigger. To entertain the notion of what he would and would not want now seemed silly. What else was she going to do, offer him a cup?

She winced. Her husbands body wasn't even cold yet. The fact that she was capable of being so heartless both surprised and terrified her. The sudden chirping of her phone made her jump. She hadn't realized how still the house had been.

UNKWN: We'll be there shortly.

UNKWN: Just breathe.

It smelled like rain. The ground was drenched, frosty morning dew slid over the blades of grass around her hands. It soaked through her clothes as she lay flat on her back staring at a sky that was not quite blue or gray, but some dismal mix of both. Papers were strewn around her, the wet ink bleeding the words together. She clutched a few in her arms, children that she’d borne through sweat, tears and sleepless nights; all cast out like garbage. She didn’t even ask how he could have done this, she knew. He had emphasized several times to her that the only dream she had room for in her life was him. Anything else was competition. A quiet sob wracked her chest. Her babies. They’d done nothing wrong. They were just unfortunate enough to be products of love in a life where she was cocooned with hate. She sobbed until her entire body ached.

Peeling herself up from the ground felt like dragging her body through mud. She steadied her weight onto her knees once she was upright, and rocked herself back onto her heels, surveying the carnage around her. The events of last night reeled through her mind, wrapping themselves around the shredded fragments of her heart and squeezing tight. She could still see the quiet anger in his face when he’d discovered the box of treasures stashed deep in the back of her closet, disguised as a shoe box. The anger had grown more and more pronounced as he’d held her at a bay with a look and flipped through her most private thoughts. And even as tears streamed down her cheeks as she tried to explain, he stepped slowly toward the open bay window and scattered all of her emotions to the wind.