The Beach House (22 page)

***

As Joe reached the water he turned back and waved,
not sure if Kim remained at the window or not. Sun reflected off
glass hiding the evidence of anyone standing on the other side. He
turned back to the ocean, heavy waves washing against him and he
grinned, enjoying the way Jenni’s body slipped through the water,
the way muscle moved beneath her skin. He did not see the big shiny
pickup parked on the road behind their house, pulled up on the side
of the track. Even if he had seen he would have suspected nothing.
Kids were always driving down to the beach to make out or park and
go surfing.

***

Mark Adams sat in the cab of his pickup and lit a
new cigarette from the butt of the old. A pint bottle of cheap
bourbon rested uncapped on the seat beside him. The distant figures
of his wife and the city guy moved through the surf and started to
swim beyond the breakers. Dead man walking, Mark thought, and
chuckled to himself. That bitch wife of his too. Mark’s own bitch
wife as well, he supposed. All had to go. They couldn’t treat him
like this. He knew exactly what was going on, and whatever happened
next was down to them, not him. Rich city slickers coming to
his
town, playing around with
his
wife. No one would
blame him. Hell, he deserved a medal.

He should be on his way to meet the guys
now, and he experienced a moment’s regret. Couldn’t be avoided. He
had more important business to take care of here.

He straightened and flicked his cigarette
through the window. Okay. Decision made. The bitch first. The baby
next, he guessed, though he experienced a brief moment of guilt the
baby would have to go. Maybe not the baby. Mark leaned his head
back against the seat, his surge of energy draining away, and
closed his eyes. He was suddenly bone weary. How was a man supposed
to sleep when his wife was fucking complete strangers? How many
times had she done this before and he hadn’t known? Perhaps he’d
rest up for a minute, get his strength back; not that he was going
to need much strength for these city folk. He sucked on a new
cigarette, moved his head so it rested in the angle between seat
and door. He heard surf pounding against the sand, a sound he heard
most nights of his life as he lay awake into the small hours,
trying to damp down the anger burning in his gut.

***

Kim finished cubing beef and chopping vegetables,
placed everything in one large pot and turned the oven on low. The
stew could sit as long as needed now. Ami would need another feed
in an hour, and Jenni and Joe would be back by then. If Ami went
down after her feed, Kim wanted to go back upstairs. She had
unfinished business, an ache in her loins she felt might never be
satisfied.

Kim stared at the oven, a small frown
troubling her brow. She wanted to make something for after dinner.
Pancakes, maybe? Yeah, pancakes sounded good. She had seen a big
cast iron griddle that went over the gas ring somewhere and she
searched through the cabinets until she found it, struggling to
lift it down, gripping the handles on both sides, the round metal
circle thick and heavy. She laid it carefully on the worktop and
mixed up some batter, lay a cover over and left it to stand.

She sat cross legged on the floor in front
of Ami and when the child reached out to her gripped her fists and
pulled her to her feet. Ami grinned as though she had accomplished
the cleverest trick in the world. She had been making a lot of
noises lately, meaningless grunts and cries, and even though Kim
knew it was way too early she liked to think Ami was trying to
communicate.

She pulled over a small pile of blocks, each
one three inches on a side, each face showing a different letter of
the alphabet alternating with an animal starting with the letter.
The one she held had G printed large on one face, smaller on the
remaining three, together with a drawing of a Giraffe, a Goat and a
Gorilla. Kim held the block inside her hands, Ami waiting with
anticipation because she knew this game. It didn’t matter how many
times they played, the unmasking always came as a complete surprise
to the infant.

Kim moved her hands closer and Ami wriggled
in anticipation.

“Gorilla!” Kim said quickly, revealing the
silverback. Ami squealed loudly, laughing so hard she tumbled
backwards and bumped her head on the floor. The laughter turned
instantly to tears, ending almost as quickly as Kim righted her and
unmasked…
Giraffe
!

She didn’t hear the back door open, the one
facing away from the sea, the one they never used and always forgot
to lock. Only when Ami looked up past her did she realize someone
had entered the kitchen. She span around on the slick floor to
discover Jenni’s husband standing in the doorway.

***

The bitch sat on the floor, not even aware he had
entered the room until the brat gave him away. Mark watched her
turn and start to rise to her feet. Her tits spilled from her open
shirt as she leaned over and Mark watched them, sudden arousal
taking him by surprise. Maybe dispatching her could wait a minute
or two.

“What do you want?” she asked.

Mark grinned. “Put the baby somewhere.”

“What are you doing here!” Kim put herself
between him and the child.

“Nothing. To her. Put her away, now, before
I change my mind.”

“No.” Kim paled, but her face set in a
determined frown.

Mark leaned against the worktop, running his
hand across the smooth wood. This was one nice house. He wondered
how much a place like this cost to rent. More than he made in a
month, he bet.

“I don’t think you understand.” He spoke as
though she was the child. “If you don’t put her away, I’ll do her
first and make you watch. Now, put the fucking baby somewhere and
shut the fuck up.” He was suddenly breathing hard and made an
effort to calm himself. She only needed to do as he asked and this
would go easier on all of them.

“You have to promise you won’t touch
her.”

“I promise,” Mark said. If Kim knew him
better she would have realized he never kept his word, but he saw
the fear for her baby overarching everything in her mind. She
leaned over and picked Ami up. The infant started crying, not
knowing what was happening, but responding to the atmosphere in the
room. Kim carried her past Mark and put a foot on the stair.

“Not upstairs,” Mark said.

“Her cot’s upstairs.” Kim took the second
step, then the third.

Mark watched her go. His hand moved, barely
aware he was picking up the long Sabatier from the wooden block
before he followed.

***

Kim expected him to pull her back but she reached
the landing, laid Ami in her cot in the back room. She turned
quickly, intending to climb out on the balcony and see if she could
jump down to the beach, but Mark had followed her closely, bringing
the long Sabatier with him, ten inches of gleaming steel. Kim
recalled Joe sharpening the blade only that morning. Why did he
have to love those damn knives so much?

“Thinking of going somewhere?” Mark
asked.

Kim shook her head, afraid now, more afraid
than she had been downstairs. It was different up here, their
territory, her and Joe’s, the sense of invasion stronger.

Mark looked beyond her, through the doorway
into the bedroom. He nodded at the door. “In there.”

Kim backed away and he followed, the knife
held loose at his side.

Mark kicked the door closed behind him and
Kim came to a halt with her legs against the foot of the bed.

“Strip.”

“What?”

“Take ‘em all off. Not that you got much to
take off, but I want it all off. Now!”

“Fuck you.”

He closed the gap in an instant, the wicked
blade coming up and resting against her cheek. “There’s something
you need to understand here sweetheart. I’m the one in charge, and
what I say goes. So strip.”

Kim knew she was crying but was incapable of
stopping. Mark stepped away, not far enough to allow her any chance
of escape but far enough she couldn’t reach him. Kim pulled her
open shirt off and let it drop to the floor. Mark’s eyes tracked
down her body, came back up as she reached around and pulled the
tie on her bikini top. She dropped it next to her blouse.

Mark waved the knife. “Those too,
honey.”

Kim bit her lip and bent over, stripping her
bikini briefs down, stood naked in front of him.

“Fuckin’ slut,” he said, staring at her
shaved pussy. He started to fumble with his jeans. He was unable to
undo them one handed so shuffled across to the dressing table and
put the knife down. He caught Kim’s glance and shook his head. “You
can try if you like. Make it a little more fun. Come on, darlin’,
give it a try...”

Now his hands were free he unhooked his belt
and tugged at the zip of his jeans. He pulled them down, then his
shorts and stood with his erection jutting out.

“You wanna come lie down and deal with this
first? Before we conclude our piece of business?”

“Why would I do that? If you’re going to
kill me do it, but I’d rather burn in hell than have you anywhere
near me.”

Mark shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He picked up
the knife again. He shuffled across, looking ridiculous with his
jeans around his ankles, and if not for the gleaming knife Kim
would have laughed.

As Mark reached her Kim moved backward away
from him. The bed caught behind her knees and she swayed. Mark
reached for her breast and she leaned back further, suddenly
falling onto the bed. Mark landed on top of her, forcing air from
her lungs, and for a moment she didn’t know if he had used the
knife or not, then she saw it beside her on the bed. Mark tried to
force her knees apart, his stupid tiny prick pressing against her.
He stank of bourbon and cigarettes and stale sweat and automotive
grease, and Kim felt something break loose inside and kicked up
between his legs, her knee finding a target. Mark grunted but
stayed on top of her. He lifted the knife and lay it cold against
her neck, its razor edge touching her skin, and she felt a welling
of blood.

“Now, we can do this with you moving or not,
sweetheart. So which is it going to be?”

Kim wanted to spit in his face, stopped
herself. He meant it. He was too far gone to care whether he fucked
her alive or dead, and alive she would maybe get another chance.
She turned her head to one side as he tried to kiss her, pulling
the knife away, but he wasn’t gentle and Kim felt it slice into her
flesh once again and more blood flowed. Great, she thought, now he
kills me by accident.

“Open wide,” Mark said, and Kim parted her
knees and let him drop down between her legs.

“Come on. At least it’s not going to take
long.”

Mark chuckled. “Feisty, ain’t we?” He probed
around, trying to find her entrance. “We’ll see how feisty you are
in a minute, sweet tits. I bet you like this, don’t you? Like a
real man for a change. Okay, sweetheart, let’s see how you like
these apples.”

Kim knew when he found her entrance at last.
She squeezed her eyes tight shut, tried to ignore the wail coming
from Ami’s room. Mark didn’t seem to hear it at all, but Kim’s
instinct responded to the cries of her daughter and her nipples
spurted milk, sudden and automatic.

“Oh fuck, that’s gross!” Mark groaned and
pulled away. “Shit no, what the fuck are you doing?”

“Nothing. This is natural, but you wouldn’t
recognize natural would you.”

“Oh fuck,” Mark said again. He was sitting
back from her, still hard, his face a mask of disgust. He shook his
head. “No way, man. No way.”

Kim saw his face change, going from disgust
to something dreamy. He picked up the knife and laid it against his
own cheek and smiled.

“Ah well, guess I’ll have to fuck Jenni
instead.”

He leaned forward, bringing the knife around
just as the bedroom door flew open and Joe said, “Get off her,
cunt.”

Mark swung around, the knife catching Kim
under her left breast and opening the skin. Mark laughed. “Come on
in and watch, faggot, see how a real man works.”

“Okay,” Joe said, and closed the five paces
between the door and the bed, moving fast and without hesitation.
He grabbed Mark by his hair and tugged his head back. Beyond him
Kim saw Jenni enter the bedroom, holding another knife, one of the
smaller ones.

Joe pulled harder and Mark screamed. Joe
punched him on the ribcage and then stopped, making an odd grunting
sound.

Kim looked down and screamed. The Sabatier
was embedded in Joe’s shoulder, in the soft part just below his
clavicle, embedded deeply and blood was starting to well around the
blade.

Mark laughed. “Fuck you.”

Joe staggered back as Mark stood, bending
over and pulling his jeans up, his eyes never leaving Jenni.

“I hope he was worth it,” he sneered.

“He is,” Jenni said. “And so is Kim.”

Mark snarled and lunged at her but Jenni
darted to one side, the knife held in front of her. Mark might be
drunk but he was judging the situation as well as anyone. He glared
at all three of them, looked in satisfaction as Joe leaned against
the wall and began to slide down it. Mark darted out through the
door.

Kim rushed across to Joe and put her hand
beside the knife lodged in his flesh.

“I’m okay,” Joe said between gritted teeth.
“Hurts like all hell, but I’ll live. Go after him, Kim,” he
said.

Kim hesitated, looking into his face, turned
and nodded at Jenni. “Come on, let’s finish this.”

Jenni nodded back and followed her, leaving
wet footprints beside Joe’s on the dry wooden floor. Kim didn’t
glance back or she would have seen Joe’s head rock as the world
span around him and he sank sideways onto the floor.

***