Squeak

Leatherface

Jezebel

I was finishing dinner because, of course, Helen was upstairs having a meltdown courtesy of Erik. I was preparing the garlic butter for the prime rib when I felt his presence—malevolent and suffocating. The man was a haunting dirge bringing bottomless sorrow and grief. I wished Erik would kill him already, but like a true predator, he wanted to toy with his victims. He lived for shock and awe and preferred watching his intricate, well-laid plan unravel from the shadows. It was a plus if he could accomplish his mission without getting his hands dirty. I told Erik I wanted them dead by Valentine's, but the days weren't moving fast enough for me, which was truly ironic considering time seemed to drag while Erik was incarcerated.

I should come up with my own plan...

My eyes traveled to the carving knife on the cutting board. I could do it. He'd never expect it. I could disembowel him, spilling his filthy guts all on Helen's lovely floors. Killing him was the easy part, but getting rid of him without people asking questions was the tricky part. His disappearance would raise questions, and using the 'my husband went sailing and never returned home' excuse wouldn't cut it a second time around.

"Hold the glass, please."

I smirked. Jacob hadn't eaten a single thing prepared by me since I slipped that glass into his lasagna slice. They were the same shards I pulled out of my body. It was poetic justice at its finest, but it was unfortunate a piece didn't travel down his throat and fuck up his esophagus.

"I'll save it for dessert. How about that?"

"There she is. I wondered how long it'd take for snarky Jezebel to return after Erik's release. You exceeded my expectations."

She never left. You were just stupid enough to believe it.

"I aim to please," I responded lightly while thinking of one hundred and one ways to kill Jacob King. Seducing him was off the table because I was pretty sure that ship had sailed, and it was too obvious.

"So what now, my dear? Is a reconciliation in the works for you and my son?"

I wanted to say, "Which one" but I wasn't supposed to know that Adrian was one of Jacob's demon seeds.

Wait...hold on a second. Wouldn't it be a gag if I bought everyone DNA testing kits for Christmas?!

A gruesome grin spread across my face as I imagined how father and son would sputter after opening my gifts. What would be even more diabolical was if I only purchased DNA kits for them. I'd sit back with a martini as Helen massacred the men.

"That would be the mature thing to do for our daughter," I said, moving to prep the au jus for our meal.

"Hmph. Tell me something, Jezebel, are you buying this whole chaplain thing?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean. Do you believe that Erik truly found religion in prison?"

I faked a heavy sigh and shrugged my shoulders. "I don't know what to believe. It's difficult for me to imagine, considering who he was before he went in, but I heard that prison changes people. I just...I wished he made better choices. I hated my father with a passion, but...he didn't have to murder him. It wasn't worth it in the end because Erik took away precious years with me and our daughter. So, if his new leaf as a chaplain is genuine, then good for him; if not, then I'll pray for him."

His footsteps fell heavily behind me, and I refused to look up when he leaned against the counter beside me.

"How many times, Jezebel?" he whispered.

I should've known better. I should've known that he was baiting me, but my curiosity had gotten the better of me.

"How many times what?"

"How many times did you drop to your knees, lace your fingers, and pray to God to keep Erik safe while he was in prison? How many times did you pray for him to release him early so you could be a happy couple again?"

My throat constricted as memories of my unanswered prayers came rushing back. That first year, I was on my knees until they turned raw, begging God to bring him back to the point where I was sobbing. It was pathetic, but I was a girl in love with a baby on the way, still trying to make sense of the world, and the reality of doing it alone was soul-crushing. Eventually, I stopped—realizing that God might've turned his back on me because of my Jezebel ways. It was only fair since I'd turn my back on him first. He simply matched my energy. The prayers lessened and lessened as time went on, and all I had to rely on was Frankie's letters and his stories about his new best friend. I knew I had hit absolute rock bottom when I found solace in Helen. And why wouldn't I? We were both victims of Jacob—her more than me—but we still shared a connection whether we wanted to acknowledge it or not. There was no man behind the curtains like the Wizard of Oz. Jacob was too much of a peacock for that. He was the puppet master with the strings of fate tied to our destinies, tugging and jerking them in every way possible—the king of the castle whose reign needed to end.

I froze when he stepped closer and leaned down to my ear. "Your prayers were useless."

"Why?" I whispered.

"Because I'm Erik's God," he said softly.

I grabbed the knife, snatched it off the counter, and raised it above my head to stab him. The knife sliced through the air when my wrist was caught.

"Let me go!" I yelled as Erik dragged me away from that smiling demon.

"Drop the fucking knife, Jezebel!" Erik growled as I kicked at Jacob, hoping to land one. I cried out when Erik squeezed my wrist when I didn't comply. The knife clattered to the ground between us. "Relax, Jezebel," Erik demanded.

The appeased glint in Jacob's eyes and my frustration for falling for the bait made me feral. I wanted to wipe the smug smirk off his face, and I didn't know a better way to do it than carving the flesh away with a blade Leatherface-style.

He fucked up. He bent down to pick up the knife, and I used that glorious opportunity to kick him in the face. Blood spurted from his nose as he hit the floor.

"Shit, Squeak. You knocked him out," Erik said in disbelief, letting me go. "What did he say to set you off?"

"A whole bunch of bullshit."

"Wh-what happened?" Adrian stuttered from the kitchen's doorway. I turned my head and rolled my eyes. Adrian was such a dick sucker for his father that I wouldn't be surprised if he started performing mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.

"Oh, you're exactly the motherfucker I wanted to see!" Erik spat, shoving me aside to confront Adrian. "Izabel told me that you said you were her father because I never wanted children."

My mouth dropped in shock. "Adrian, did you tell her that?"

"I had to hold my crying daughter and explain how that couldn't be further from the truth!"

"Fuck you, Erik. You may share DNA with Izabel, but I fucking raised her, and I'll be damned if you think you can just swoop in and take her from me, and that goes for Jezebel, too!"

Erik had that look on his face that said a thousand words. He was about to ruin Adrian's day.

"It's funny that you mention that because Izabel's spending the week with me."

Adrian scoffed. "You're lying. There's no way you just got out of prison and Jezebel will let you have Izabel unsupervised for that length of time."

"Squirt's pink Bratz suitcase in the back of my truck says otherwise."

That was the last thing Erik said before World War III erupted in the house.

03/17/2024

Author's Note

[PATREON USERS: Someone reported my account, and it was deactivated for violating Community Guidelines. I no longer have access to the page, and I'm currently involved in an appeal process. If I'm granted access to my site again, I will not be continuing Patreon. I was spending a lot of man-hours on the site and can now focus on other projects that I'd put on the back burner. If you have a yearly Patreon membership, please contact me.]