Keith Landry and Annie Baxter lay in each other's arms. They were half-asleep, but every now and then she'd say something to him, and he replied.
He was fighting off sleep, and he suspected she was doing the same. Finally, she turned on the lamp and rolled over on top of him, nestling her head beside his neck, and bit his ear. She said, "Am I getting on your nerves?"
"No. I like that." He put his hands on her buttocks and massaged.
"Feels good." After a minute, she said, "Keith, I can't sleep."
Try.
"I can't." She reached between them and fondled him until he got hard, then put it inside her. "That's my pacifier. Can you keep it hard until I fall asleep?"
He smiled. "I guess. Never tried it before."
"I love you."
"I adore you."
"I snore."
"Me, too."
"I drool. I absolutely drool all over everything. I'm going to drool on you."
"You're funny."
"I eat barbecued chicken and potato chips in bed, and I wipe my mouth on the sheets, and I burp."
He laughed. "Stop it."
"I have wet dreams and screaming orgasms all night."
"Good..."
She moved her hips up and down. "I'm about to have one now."
"Oh, that feels..." He heard something at the door, then, before he could react, he heard the door crashing in, the bolt splintering through the wood.
A second later, Cliff Baxter was charging into the room with a shotgun in his hands.
Annie screamed as Keith pushed her off him. He jumped out of bed and, at the same time, grabbed his K-bar knife, which was lying under the phone book on the nightstand.
Baxter rammed the rubber-padded butt of the shotgun toward Keith's face, and Keith deflected it with his forearm, but it grazed his forehead and left him momentarily stunned. Baxter raised the stock of the shotgun again and brought it down hard on Keith's shoulder, paralyzing his arm and causing him to drop the knife. Baxter was about to swing again when Annie sprang from the bed and landed on Baxter, her arms and legs encircling him and causing him to stagger backward.
Keith, still dazed, his right arm hanging limp at his side, retrieved the knife with his left hand. His vision was blurred from the blow to his head, but he could see Annie hanging onto Baxter while Baxter tried to break her loose. Keith lunged along the floor and plunged the knife upward at Baxter's femoral artery, but the man was still staggering around, with Annie hanging onto him, and Keith didn't see the gush of arterial blood where the knife penetrated.
Baxter bellowed in pain, Annie was screaming, and before Keith could plunge the knife again, two other men were in the room, guns drawn. "Freeze! Freeze!"
Keith stood unsteadily, the knife still in his hand, and one of the cops — Keith thought it was Ward — swung his nightstick, catching Keith's wrist, and the knife flew out of his hand.
Baxter had disengaged himself from his wife, and Annie was lying on the floor, crying. The two cops still had their guns pointed at Keith, but their eyes were on their chief's naked wife.
As Keith moved toward Annie, Baxter swung the butt of the shotgun again and buried it in Keith's solar plexus. Keith doubled over and fell to his knees. He could hear Baxter screaming to his men, "Get out of here! Get the fuck out of here!"
Keith was aware of the two cops leaving, then felt the shotgun butt hit him again, this time on his back, sprawling him forward on the floor. He heard Baxter's voice, "So — fuck me? No! Fuck you! Fuck you!" Keith felt Baxter kicking him in the ribs, he heard Annie scream again, then felt her fall on top of him, covering him with her body, her arms wrapped tightly around his chest and her face buried in his neck. He heard her shouting, "Leave him alone! Leave him alone! Go away!"
There was a silence in the room, and Keith fought to remain conscious. He could see Baxter's legs in front of him, blood running down the man's pant leg and into his shoe.
He heard Baxter's voice again. "Get off him! Get off of him or, so help me God, I'll kill you."
"No!"
Keith heard the pump-action shotgun cocking, and he caught his breath and said to her, "Get off... Annie, get off..."
"No!"
A voice from outside the door called into the room, "Chief! We got to get moving! Got people out here now. Police on the way!"
Baxter stuck the muzzle of the shotgun under Keith's nose. "I'll count to three, and if this bitch isn't up and getting dressed, your fucking brains will be laying on your ass. One..."
"Annie... get off..."
"Two..."
"It's okay... remember what I said..."
"Three."
He felt her arms loosen around his chest, then felt her weight lifting off him.
Baxter gave her a shove, then stepped back, but kept the shotgun pointed at Keith's face. Baxter said to him, "When I get through fucking her, there's not gonna be any fucking left in her."
Keith tried to raise himself up, but Baxter kicked him in the head, and he fell forward on his face. He heard someone shout from the doorway, "Chief. State police on the way!"
Keith kept passing in and out of consciousness. His vision was blurred, and sounds seemed to reach him from far away. He could see Annie's bare legs, then saw her legs again with jeans and slippers on, then the legs of uniformed men walking away with her, and heard her voice calling him, but couldn't make out what she was saying, except for his name.
He heard Baxter's voice more distinctly, and the voice said, "Look at you, lying there, naked as a skinned buck."
He opened his eyes and saw that Baxter was kneeling in front of him and that Baxter had the K-bar knife in his hand. Baxter said, "You're mine now. All mine."
"Fuck you."
Baxter spit in his face and brought the heavy pommel of the knife down on Keith's head.
Keith was vaguely aware of hands on him, then his body rolling so that, when he opened his eyes, he saw the ceiling. He saw Baxter squatting over him, the knife in his hand, and he heard Baxter saying in a soft voice, "I'm just gonna relieve you of those things that got you in trouble." Keith could feel a tug at his scrotum and thought he felt Baxter's hand fondling his testicles, but he might have been imagining that, then realized he wasn't, and Baxter's voice was still droning on in a soothing tone. "So, we're just gonna take these home with us, and for the rest of your life, you can think about who's got 'em, and about who's fucking my wife and who's never gonna fuck her again..."
Keith jabbed two fingers into Baxter's right eye, and the man howled and tumbled backward, covering his face with his hands.
There were hurried footsteps in the room, the sound of urgent voices, and the image of Baxter being half dragged, half carried away by Ward and another policeman.
Keith couldn't feel any pain, except for the heavy pounding in his head, and the feeling that his eyes wanted to burst out of their sockets.
A wave of nausea came over him, and he was on the verge of blacking out, but he knew he had to get on his stomach so he wouldn't drown in his own vomit. Somehow, he managed to get on his side, then got sick and felt well enough to let himself go, slipping into unconsciousness.