Page 19 of Sins of a Husband

“Bill?” she says.

He turns around, his face contorted in fear. She lunges forward, the sharp blade glinting in the dim light as she thrusts it into his stomach and twists it before pulling it out. Her once loving eyes were now cold and dark with rage.

My father stumbles back and falls to the ground, gasping for air. She stands over him, her hand clutching the bloody knife as she repeatedly stabs him, each strike accompanied by a thud. I cower in the corner, my heart racing as I count each brutal stab wound inflicted on my father's body as blood pools underneath him.

“One stab wound for each month you were screwing around behind my back!” my mother shouts.

Stab number twenty-two. She realizes he’s dead and leaves the knife buried in his chest. She stares over at me, cowering in the corner, tears streaming from my eyes.

“Your father did an evil thing, and he needed to suffer the consequences. All men who cheat on their wives or girlfriends behind their backs need to be punished for their sins. They need to be punished. Do you understand me?”

I slowly nod, my frightened eyes staring into hers.

She walks over to where her phone sits on the table. She dials a number and puts it on speaker.

“911. How can I help you?”

“My husband is dead. Can you please send someone to my home?”

“Ma’am, what happened to your husband?”

“He’s lying on the living room floor with multiple stab wounds.”

“I’m dispatching the police and an ambulance. Are you safe?”

“Yes. I am now,” she says.

“Ma’am, do you know who could have done that to your husband?”

“Yes. It was me. I murdered him.”

I look at my sister, Katherine. I didn’t know what the future held for us, but it was my job to protect her now.”

Chapter Thirteen

KAT

One Month Later

The policestill haven’t found the person responsible for those men’s deaths. They aren’t any closer than when the murders took place. Just like they never found who murdered Brian and tried to kill me.

Over the past month, most of our divorce cases were because of irreconcilable differences. Cheating wasn’t mentioned. I was sure the men in this city were being extra careful because they were afraid.

“Do you think they’ll ever find the person who committed those murders?” Samantha twirls her fork around the spaghetti noodles on her plate.

I invited her over for dinner and a girls’ night since Oliver was out of town again.

“I hope so,” I say, picking up my wine glass.

“This spaghetti is amazing. I know I shouldn’t have another helping because of the carbs, but it’s too good not to.” She smiles.

“I’m happy you like it.”

After cleaning up, we refill our wine glasses and enter the living room. Samantha walks over to the painting in the corner and studies it.

“This is the creepiest painting I think I’ve ever seen. Why on earth would you buy this?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. Oliver isn’t a fan and has repeatedly suggested we move it into one of the guestrooms.”

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