Wicked Annabella

Intruder In The Night.

This chapter was written by me, Xerocide.

I know it's intense but it's a big part of the story.

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I sighed, scrubbing at the spot on the counter with the wash cloth. Carter was due home from the fields in an hour and it wouldn’t be good for me if it wasn’t spotless. I shivered at the thought of the screams and threats that would be hurled my way if I failed.

Yesterday the food had been too cold and he’d thrown the plate at me and complained that he worked all day and all I did was laze around. I snorted, throwing the cloth in the sink angrily, ‘I worked from dawn till sunset canning food and scrubbing every surface till they shown and accidently started dinner too early.’  I licked my lip where I’d bitten it clean through yesterday when I thought Carter was going to hit me. It’d bleed all over the floor where I had crumpled crying when he had spat out that I’d killed his love for me when I killed his daughter.

“Asshole.” I hissed out loud, walking to the stove and stirring the pot of chili I’d had cooking since early morning.  It was my mother’s recipe, and she’d taught me that the more you let chili cook the better the flavor. One thing Carter liked about me, probably the only thing he liked, was my cooking skills. I’d attended culinary school before we met and had been the youngest executive chief in the state until Carter had convince me to quit and marry him and live on the farm.

That had been the biggest mistake in my life. My heart throbbed and I shook my head, no! If I hadn’t met him Rylee wouldn’t have been born and seven years with her was better than a century as an executive chef of the biggest restaurant in the world.

I heard a truck pull up and my heart started pounding furiously, it was Carter, “He’s early!” I gasped out, looking around the room frantically for anything out of place but it looked clean and I let out a sigh of relief. I hurried to set the table and just as he walked into the house I set the pot of chili on the table along with a basket of fresh bread for dipping.

Carter tossed his jacket on the coat rack and kicked off his muddy boots next to mine and came over to the table with a smile on his face. I held my breath and waited for him to sit down at the head of the table then I came up beside him holding his large glass in my hands.

“What would you like to drink tonight Carter?” I asked, keeping my voice light and cheerful, he hated when I let my negative emotions come out. Except for when he was yelling, then he delighted in my tears. Carter tapped his chin, pondering on his choices then grinned up at me, looking so much like the man I’d fallen in love with.

“I’d like some lemonade please.” He said politely, reaching for the chili and dishing a large portion in his bowl and a medium sized one in mine. Carter hated when I didn’t eat enough food, he liked his wife looking healthy and happy, even if it was only on the outside.

We ate our food in silence, except for him complementing me on how good it tasted. I kept my face blanket but I was curious as to why he was in such a good mood. Finally I couldn’t hold it in anymore and asked, “Did you have a good day?”

Carter looked a bit surprised I’d spoken but he shrugged and smiled, “The crop was good and I’m going to get a nice turn out this week.”

I nodded and continued eating my chili; I knew that he wasn’t talking about crops… He meant his pot crop must be ready for harvesting and drying then selling. Inside anger boiled up, but I knew if I said anything he would turn into beast and I would most likely end up sleeping in the barn for a week so I kept my silence.

Suddenly there was a knocking on the front door and we both turned our heads towards the sound, “Who the hell is that at this time?” Carter hissed, pushing back from the table and stalking over to the door, throwing it open.