Chapter 6 The Earl Has To Die #2
The hands on my thighs tense, rough fingertips digging into my jeans and pushing into the flesh beneath until I’m sure he’ll leave bruises behind.
I fight the urge to pluck them off one by one like little bugs.
The sickly sweet expression on Earl’s face seems to melt like a cartoon witch meeting her fate from a bucket of water, replaced with a look dark enough to haunt a lesser woman.
But I know that look of bitter disappointment.
It’s the look I have come to associate with my marriage.
The look of a man who sees the woman who chose him as less than, revolting, a problem to be dealt with.
“What the fuck does that have to do with me?” He asks between gritted teeth, foamy saliva collecting at the corners of his dry lips. I close my eyes, letting out a humorless laugh before shoving Earl’s hands off my thighs.
“Well, considering you’re the one who knocked me up, I thought you’d like to know.”
“Fuck you, I didn’t do shit. I can’t even remember the last time we had sex.
You were always so frigid. Even when I felt like fucking your dry, loose hole I was better off taking care of myself.
Jerking myself off is ten times better than trying to use you to get off.
God, who would even want to fuck you? What did you do, steal some poor unsuspecting dude’s sperm and shove it up your cunt?
No way you cheated on me, no one wants you. ”
I bite down on my tongue, resisting the urge to reach out and smack Earl across the face.
I teach my daughter that violence is never the answer, and even though no one deserves to be bitch-slapped into oblivion more than the man standing in front of me, I will not be a hypocrite.
I have thicker skin than that. I can take his words, his hatred, his abuse.
I’ve been taking it for years, and at least now I can see the light at the end of the tunnel.
And besides, Earl is definitely the type to call the police and have me arrested for assault charges. Not worth the risk, no matter how badly my palm is itching.
Earl is pacing back and forth, still mumbling disgusting things about me as I push off from his desk.
“You can say whatever you want, Earl—”
“It’s the Earl, Delilah. Stop trying to fucking piss me off.”
“But it’s true. I’m pregnant, it’s yours, and I don’t expect anything from you. I only told you because this is a small town. People talk, and as much as I might hate you right now, you deserve to hear the truth from me.”
I start towards the closed door, the image of five mechanics with glasses held up to the door to eavesdrop on this conversation floating through my mind when Earl grabs my wrist and tugs hard.
“I want a fucking paternity test. I’m not paying a penny of fucking child support without it,” he spits.
“Whatever. I’ll do a dozen paternity tests, it doesn’t matter. I’m not asking you for shit. You don’t take care of the daughter you have now, so why the hell would I expect you to step up for this one?” I try to wriggle out of his hold, but he only grips me harder.
“Fuck. You. You better hope this kid isn’t mine, because I’ll make your life a living hell, Delilah. I’ll fight you for custody. You think I don’t know what you’re doing, shacking up with that bitch Ivy? You think I’m gonna let that cunt raise my fucking kids? You’re out of your mind.”
Goddammit, Ivy was right. I never should have come here.
I never should have tried to be the bigger person and tell Earl about the pregnancy, especially when I could have predicted this reaction.
Tears prick the corners of my eyes and bile rises in my throat, but I refuse to show this son of a bitch any more weakness.
I’m not the scared, fragile, docile little thing he thinks he can push around. Not anymore.
He’s holding my wrist tight, but I twist my hand around, using a self-defense technique that Dad taught me when I was a teenager to break out of his grip.
I take a big step back and fumble for the doorknob until it’s wide open, leaving us in view of the entire garage hoping an audience will deter Earl from coming at me again.
“No, Earl. You’re out of your mind. Stay the fuck away from me and my kids, and keep Ivy’s name out of your ugly mouth.”
With that, I storm out of his office, ignoring Archie’s gentle shoulder pat as I pass him by.
I’m fuming the entire ride home, it’s a miracle I make it to Grandma Millie’s driveway in one piece.
The entire interaction plays through my mind on a loop, and as much as I’m pissed at myself for putting myself in this situation, I’m even more pissed at Earl for stealing so much of my youth and staining what should be an exciting time in my life.
His switch up from a kind, generous, loving man trying to get his wife back to a piece-of-shit asshole trying to threaten my livelihood was diabolical.
By the time I walk through the front door and follow the sounds of an old princess movie playing on TV in the living room, I’m a powder keg ready to burst.
The only thing that brings my heart rate down a notch is the sight of Ivy lying on the carpet on her stomach, head tucked in her hands and the straps of her tank top pulled down her shoulders.
Sadie is straddling her back, her hair sticking up messily from her braid as she leans over and fills in a black and white koi fish scale with a bright violet marker.
This is all what matters. My daughter, my best friend, and the Little Bean growing in my belly.
My only job right now is to keep them safe and healthy, to keep myself safe and healthy.
But to do that, to put Earl and his threats and Mindy and my marriage out of my mind and focus on my family, I need to do something for myself.
I think it’s time for a little revenge.
I lie down on the carpet next to Ivy, getting only a mumbled “Hey Mama,” from my daughter, who is solely focused on coloring in Ivy’s shoulder tattoo.
My best friend looks over at me, all black hair and brown eyes lined with dark eyeliner and cherry blossom body spray.
Just her undivided attention helps regulate my senses.
“How’d it go?” she mouths, likely expecting a thumbs up or down in response since we can’t speak freely right now.
We’ll do a full debrief later when Sadie is asleep, but for now, I press my tongue into my cheek.
“Vee,” I whisper, just loud enough for her to hear. Thankfully, the sound of the movie and her coloring project have Sadie’s attention. “The Earl has to die.”