Page 107 of No More Words

“It’s not like you don’t sleep around when you’re away on business,” she accused.

“I don’t throw it in your face.” He jabbed a finger in the direction of her swollen belly. She was four months along. It was her third child, so she looked like a house. She’d better not be pregnant with twins.Dammit, Benton.She should ask if twins ran in his family.

“Don’t you, though? I wash your clothes. I smell their perfume. I see their lipstick stains on your shirts. How many have there been, Dwight? Benton and I slept together once. Once!” she shrieked.

Benton struggled, almost slipping free before Dwight hooked his ankle and Benton face planted in the water.

“You can’t kill him,” she tried to reason.

“I wasn’t planning to kill anyone, but you’ve left me no choice.”

“No, I mean you can’t drown him. He’s competed in several Ironmans. He’s trained to hold his breath. He’ll resist you for as long as he can.” Apparently, Benton was some sort of prodigy when it came to competitive swimming. He broke records at his university. It was one of the trivia bits he shared when she first met him and his wife. But if Dwight doesn’t do something soon, someone is bound to stumble upon them.

Dwight makes an exasperated noise. “I’m doing this for you, Charlotte. Don’t you see? I’m trying to curb your appetite before it gets out of control.”

“My appetite? What about yours? It’s just as bad.”

“I’m discreet,” he argued, and she knew he was right. He was subtle with his indiscretions, and this was a lesson she should take to heart if they wanted a life in the public eye.

Benton thrashed in the water and Dwight jerked him up again. “He won’t die.”

“Drowning isn’t as quick as they make it in the movies, honey. Let him go.”

“So he can run to the police and report us? You’re in on this now. Think, Charlotte. You’ll lose this life we’ve built together. You want more money and more prestige than you could ever inherit from your daddy, and I can give that to you. Iwillgive that to you. We’ll do this together, sugar. Don’t let this fool take that away from us.” He gave Benton a good shake and Dwight’s gaze dropped to her hand. “What’s with the knife?”

Charlotte looked at the kitchen knife she’d forgotten to put down after she read Dwight’s note. “I was cutting onions.” There was still translucent skin on the edge of the blade. Her husband was right. She did want that life he could give her. An illustrious, prominent life they could only achieve together, with his charisma and her connections. She knew people, wealthy people, through her parents. But thanks to Dwight’s penchant for violence and her forgetfulness (Thefuckingcondom!), not to mention her refusal to get rid of the baby (She was Catholic, after all.), Benton was now in the way. He would report Dwight to the authorities and see her as an accomplice. They would be ruined. Her dear children would grow up without their mommy and daddy. She’d give birth locked up in a cage like an animal. They couldn’t have that.

She plunged the knife she’d just used to chop up dinner into Benton’s gut. She’d recently sharpened the knife and the blade went in smoothly. His eyes widened in shock, and for a split second she felt mirth dancing in hers.Fascinating.Slicing through flesh is like carving a chicken.

She stabbed him again and again and again as Dwight watched on with horrified interest, as if he was stunned his wife could commit such a monstrous act, until he snapped out of his stupor and bellowed, “Enough!” He dragged Benton’s limp, lifeless body farther into the ocean. They watched the tide take her lover away.

“We need to get rid of the knife,” Dwight said when he returned to her side.

“But I have to finish dinner.” She rinsed off the blade and her hand in the cold water.

He took the knife from her and helped her up the steep berm. “Afterward then. I’ll hide the entire set in the old house’s attic.”

“Mommy?”

Charlotte froze. Dwight swore under his breath. He squeezed Charlotte’s hand with a bruising grip. “What did she see?” he whispered harshly.

“How the fuck do I know?” Charlotte spat. “Olivia, darling, what are you doing here?” she asked, trying not to panic. Children talk. They always do. She’d tell on them. Not directly, but something or someone would trigger a memory and Olivia would start babbling.

Olivia’s nightgown swirled around her ankles. She clutched her rag doll. Wise green eyes too big for her head blinked innocently at Charlotte. Olivia leaned to the left, trying to see behind them. She pointed at the water. “Who’s that man?”

“Shit,” Dwight muttered.

Charlotte was sweating. “That’s a seal, darling,” she said, her voice pitching upward.

Olivia’s nose scrunched up. “Why’s the seal wearing clothes?”

“Don’t be silly, Livy. Seals don’t wear clothes.” Charlotte’s laugh was maniacal.

Dwight jerked her arm. “What if she tells someone?”

“She won’t because you’ll get her to believe she didn’t see anything and that we weren’t here.”

“Charlotte—” He growled. “I’m not gaslighting our daughter.”

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