Read Online The Devil's Beating His Wife by Siobhán Béabhar - Free Book Online
Authors: Siobhán Béabhar
Tags: Romance, Historical, Literature & Fiction, Paranormal, Military, Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, Contemporary Fiction, Contemporary Women, Ghosts, Women's Fiction, New Adult & College, multicultural, Multicultural & Interracial
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"Things have changed since you've been gone, Baxter," said Nixon. "The niggers stay to themselves, and the white folk stick with our own. Things are peaceful as long as everyone knows their place. You crossing into their county could have caused an all-out war. Didn't anyone warn you about that?"
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Richard clench his jaw. Turning away, I glanced out at the scenery as the truck rumbled down the road. Another truck appeared, coming from the other direction. I leaned over the side to see if it was anyone I knew. As it drove by, I could see the driver and the passenger, a colored man and his boy, looking back at us.
There was absolutely no reason for what happened next. These people hadn't made a face or spoke an unkind word towards us, but that meant nothing to this group. Suddenly, my body fell into the center of the bed when Carver whipped the truck around and began pursuing the other truck.
Our truck accelerated as we raced down the road, trying to catch up with the other truck. With the wind whipping against my body, I struggled to stand and shuffle towards the cab window. Pushing the glass open, I stuck my head inside and looked at my brother. Charlie was pounding his fist against the dashboard, encouraging Carver to drive faster. Sweat streamed from my brother's hairline to his chin. He wore a feral grin as he pushed the truck faster.
"Now Carver, what have you got in that damn fool head of yours?" I said. "I thought we were going down to Madge's place?"
Carver shook his head. "That was your idea, Baxter. The boys and me have other plans."
Reaching into the cabin, I placed my hand on my brother's shoulder. He shrugged it off and clenched the steering wheel. Lowering the pitch of my voice, I spoke softly and slowly. "And what are your plans, brother?"
His hands tightened on the wheel until his knuckles turned white. Charlie glanced back at me, then placed his hand on the glass, and forced the window shut. I fell back before he chopped my goddamned head off.
Glancing through the glass, I could see that the truck ahead had picked up speed. Their tires kicked up small pebbles that struck our windshield. Suddenly, without slowing, the truck turned sharply onto one of the back roads that led through the woods. Carver didn't wait for the turn. He drove his truck across the ditch, causing us to bounce from the impact.
The others cheered Carver on. He roared the engine, accelerating until we were able to see the shapes of their heads. The young boy turned, looking through the cab of the truck. His eyes were wide and his mouth hung open. Terror was etched onto his features.
"Carver. Slow down." I pounded the window. The road forked ahead. Their truck swung left and immediately slowed as they bounced over potholes and fallen tree limbs. Carver went right, knowing only a few feet of trees separated the two cars.
Our path was smoother, allowing us to catch up with them. The trees were thicker in some places than others. Through one of the thinner spots, I could see their brown truck trudging along the road. Richard hollered out, but the sounds of the engines muffled out his words. Up ahead, the roads would merge again, and we'd come out just ahead of them with enough time to block their getaway.
Carver sped up, knowing the game was over. We had won. The prize? I didn't want to know.
We burst ahead where the roads merged. Carver turned the wheel, thinking he would be blocking their truck. Instead, we all looked back to see nothing but trees swaying and leaves rustling.
"Where'd the fuck did they go?" asked Richard, as he stared down the road. Charlie leapt from the truck and came around to the back. He stomped down the dirt road a few feet, looking for a dust trail.
"What do you see?" asked Carver.
Charlie stood there with his hands on his hips. He tilted his head back, letting the sun shine down on his freckled face. Walking backwards a few steps, he stared down at the
"Things have changed since you've been gone, Baxter," said Nixon. "The niggers stay to themselves, and the white folk stick with our own. Things are peaceful as long as everyone knows their place. You crossing into their county could have caused an all-out war. Didn't anyone warn you about that?"
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Richard clench his jaw. Turning away, I glanced out at the scenery as the truck rumbled down the road. Another truck appeared, coming from the other direction. I leaned over the side to see if it was anyone I knew. As it drove by, I could see the driver and the passenger, a colored man and his boy, looking back at us.
There was absolutely no reason for what happened next. These people hadn't made a face or spoke an unkind word towards us, but that meant nothing to this group. Suddenly, my body fell into the center of the bed when Carver whipped the truck around and began pursuing the other truck.
Our truck accelerated as we raced down the road, trying to catch up with the other truck. With the wind whipping against my body, I struggled to stand and shuffle towards the cab window. Pushing the glass open, I stuck my head inside and looked at my brother. Charlie was pounding his fist against the dashboard, encouraging Carver to drive faster. Sweat streamed from my brother's hairline to his chin. He wore a feral grin as he pushed the truck faster.
"Now Carver, what have you got in that damn fool head of yours?" I said. "I thought we were going down to Madge's place?"
Carver shook his head. "That was your idea, Baxter. The boys and me have other plans."
Reaching into the cabin, I placed my hand on my brother's shoulder. He shrugged it off and clenched the steering wheel. Lowering the pitch of my voice, I spoke softly and slowly. "And what are your plans, brother?"
His hands tightened on the wheel until his knuckles turned white. Charlie glanced back at me, then placed his hand on the glass, and forced the window shut. I fell back before he chopped my goddamned head off.
Glancing through the glass, I could see that the truck ahead had picked up speed. Their tires kicked up small pebbles that struck our windshield. Suddenly, without slowing, the truck turned sharply onto one of the back roads that led through the woods. Carver didn't wait for the turn. He drove his truck across the ditch, causing us to bounce from the impact.
The others cheered Carver on. He roared the engine, accelerating until we were able to see the shapes of their heads. The young boy turned, looking through the cab of the truck. His eyes were wide and his mouth hung open. Terror was etched onto his features.
"Carver. Slow down." I pounded the window. The road forked ahead. Their truck swung left and immediately slowed as they bounced over potholes and fallen tree limbs. Carver went right, knowing only a few feet of trees separated the two cars.
Our path was smoother, allowing us to catch up with them. The trees were thicker in some places than others. Through one of the thinner spots, I could see their brown truck trudging along the road. Richard hollered out, but the sounds of the engines muffled out his words. Up ahead, the roads would merge again, and we'd come out just ahead of them with enough time to block their getaway.
Carver sped up, knowing the game was over. We had won. The prize? I didn't want to know.
We burst ahead where the roads merged. Carver turned the wheel, thinking he would be blocking their truck. Instead, we all looked back to see nothing but trees swaying and leaves rustling.
"Where'd the fuck did they go?" asked Richard, as he stared down the road. Charlie leapt from the truck and came around to the back. He stomped down the dirt road a few feet, looking for a dust trail.
"What do you see?" asked Carver.
Charlie stood there with his hands on his hips. He tilted his head back, letting the sun shine down on his freckled face. Walking backwards a few steps, he stared down at the
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