The Psychotic Husband (The Husband Series Book 3)

by Lucian Bane

  “Seven,” Frank reminded her gently.

  “Seven men!” She suddenly softened and added, “Thank you Frank,” before going hard again. “But I’m your wife. And I love you more than anything and I’ll do what I damn well must to help you through this. But anger is not one of the things I can be at you or about this. What damn good would it do? I just want to love my husband,” she gasped, wiping her tears.

  “She’s crying,” Frank warned loudly, causing their pace to get erratic.

  “And I’m not sorry!” she added. “I’m not sorry one bit that you got the head transplant! But…” She covered her face suddenly. “I’m sorry that you’re sorry you did, and you wish you were deeeeeeaaaad,” she finished in a broken wail as Lucas drew images of Ben stabbing her in the chest followed by Lucas breaking Ben’s neck. Then came the image of Ben hugging her and it felt like a sudden life raft. He grabbed hold of it, and hurried to her, wrapping her in his arms. He felt all of them putting their power into the hug and he couldn’t be mad because he needed all of it to fix it.

  “What do I do?” he whispered to her.

  “You do the plan,” Lucas said. “Mr. He considered everything.”

  Ben clenched his eyes shut, putting his forehead on hers. “Tell me, Cheryl. Tell me what to do, I can’t decide this. It has to be you.”

  “Decide what?”

  “What do you think I should do? Do you think we need to do what Lucas said? Do I trust him? Can you tell if I should, are you…feeling anything? Sensing? Have a dream?”

  She sniffled and shook her head. “I wish. I really wish. But…Charlie…he maybe…”

  Gifted Charlie

  Ben froze. “Yes. Charlie.” He looked at her. “Do you think I should ask?”

  She sat there, unmoving with lowered eyes and drawn brows. “Yes, but…can you not…tell him the parts about…”

  “I get why she’s saying it, Lucas I don’t’ need you to draw it,” Ben said at the first hint of an image in his head.

  “If you don’t want things drawn, then get out of drawing mode.”

  “Is there an off switch?”

  “No, but there’s a setting. If you don’t want me drawing, then don’t need the drawing.”

  “What does that mean, don’t need the drawing,” Ben said.

  “I think he’s saying you’re needing it spelled out,” Irish helped.

  “Just because I don’t have an answer to this problem doesn’t mean I can’t understand what she’s feeling or thinking when she says something.”

  “The gift isn’t that refined with you,” Lucas said. “You’ll have to fine tune it.”

  “How?”

  He was quiet for a moment before saying, “I don’t remember,” followed by a chuckle.

  “That’s funny to you.” Ben was ready to throat punch himself just to hurt him.

  “Only because I know how you love our memory issue. But…rest assured, when our memory fully returns, you’ll have full access to all our gift’s learned features.”

  “Oh,” Ben said, pushing off the bed when he wasn’t sure what he might do. His anger was growing like a fire and he didn’t want Cheryl to sense it.

  “I wonder if it’s part of his gift that does this?” Irish asked.

  “Does what?” Ben grit, strolling the floor like a caged underfed zombie.

  “Brings this need for violence and the urge to act on it?”

  “I’m sure your memory will assist you with that information when it returns,” Ben said like an automatic program. “Take a mystery card and get in line.”

  “None of us have anger and rage,” Lucas said.

  “Well, we’ve got three more hiding in our head,” Ben reminded. “So, one of them is leaking anger issues, or all of them are.”

  “None of us have anger,” Lucas repeated.

  Ben paused and blinked Lucas into his line of sight, wanting to see him. “How do you know that? You’re remembering it?”

  “Yes.”

  “None of you have anger? That’s a really hard sell.”

  “Maybe, but I wasn’t trying to sell it, just informing you. You’re not obligated to accept it until you see for yourself.”

  “So where is his anger coming from?” Cheryl asked.

  “Himself?” Irish suggested.

  “Ben wasn’t an angry person,” Cheryl said, making Ben nod in agreement.

  “What about that?” Ben challenged.

  “Well… maybe she didn’t know about your anger issues,” Lucas suggested.

  “Like suppressed anger?” Cheryl wondered.

  Ben looked at her. “If I can have suppressed anger, why can’t they?”

  “But we’re already suppressed parts,” Lucas said.

  “Why does that mean you can’t have anger?” Ben demanded.

  “Like angry taste or angry hearing or angry sight?” Irish wondered. “We express gifts. That’s all.”

  “Well, Frank had to have feelings, and feelings come from somewhere!” Ben said, getting annoyed.

  “I had feelings!” The fired-out words came from Frank who quickly returned to his hiding spot behind Ben, not wanting in the fight.

  “That would be the sixth sense,” I suppose, Lucas said.

  “Ahhh, of course. Mr. He has all the emotions. So, that must be it. Mr. He is leaking his pissed feelings.”

  “Or… you are,” Irish tossed in.

  “Right, only I’m not an angry person!” Ben yelled. “Was I like this?” he asked Cheryl, getting an immediate head shake. “Aren’t you all feeling the anger?” he challenged them.

  “Yes, we are, but it’s not coming from us. But we are feeling it like we feel…the other things we never have before. Wow,” Lucas said, clearly having figured something out.

  Ben’s anger began to boil when he realized he was going to make him ask about his wow.

  As if sensing it, Lucas hurried, “The meshing. Existing in the same space, and the meshing, is allowing us to feel these emotions, to connect with them.”

  “Right,” Irish said, awed too.

  It all brought his predicament full circle. “I need to know what to do, I need to talk to Charlie,” he said, wondering how, when and where. “I need to do it now,” he answered himself, looking at Cheryl. “Can you call him? Text him and tell him I need to talk to him?”

  Cheryl nodded with her, “I can try.” She pulled the cover to her and wrapped in it as she got out the bed and Ben never appreciated and hated anything more than her hiding herself from him. No, not him, them. That’s why she hid because she didn’t want them seeing her, because she was his.

  Not sure how long or how far that logic will carry you now that we’re the same people.

  Ben smirked at Lucas’s oh-so-gentle voice of reason. It’ll carry me long enough and far enough until I come up with something else.

  If you accept us as part of you, then there is only you, Irish said.

  Oh, how ironic that the two virgins now want to merge just so they can fully enjoy the very thing they didn’t want to touch before.

  Because we had no idea, Lucas reasoned, his awe coloring his sincerity. I’m happy to admit I was stupidly wrong on that part and you were right.

  Same, Irish said. If you think about it, we’re just a part of you.

  Like a cancer. Ben eyed Cheryl now speaking in hushed tones on the phone.

  I don’t think cancers give you what we do, Lucas mildly begged to differ with a grin.

  Ben grit his teeth at remembering exactly what their gifts gave. If they didn’t talk it would maybe feel more like a gift and not some person with him.

  I don’t need to talk, Irish offered easily. I never need to talk.

  Technically, neither do I, Lucas said.

  No, you’d just draw everything.

  I don’t have to, once you learn how to use the gift. It’s your gift too now.

  Ben sensed something in what he said and wondered. The second he pondered it, an image of Irish and Lu
cas melting inside Ben filled his mind.

  Fuck. Was that really his only option? Letting them in?

  “He’s coming,” Cheryl said, setting the phone on the small writing desk.

  His eyes focused on her chest and one blink moved the blanket out of the way, showing them her tits. His anger erupted that Lucas had done it, and his cock overruled. Realizing she was coming toward them, Ben forced his eyes on her face. Even with all their problems and the fears they caused, desire burned in the depths of her chocolate eyes.

  She wants us to make her feel good. Frank’s observation bypassed Ben’s jealousy.

  “Charlie’s coming,” he whispered when she stood before him.

  “I know,” she said, oblivious to how her arousal begged him to do things to her.

  “After, I want to make you come again. And again. And again.”

  She smiled and tiptoed, pressing her lips to his mouth, bringing a painful groan of ecstasy. Felt, smelled and tasted like he kissed her pussy. “Do I get to make you come in there somewhere? I miss making you,” she whispered, causing his orgasm to surge forth. Images flooded his mind, the one of her forcing him to eat her pussy like she’d done that day.

  What is that? Lucas gasped, ready to combust.

  “You miss making me,” Ben repeated, dumbstruck.

  Will she do this again? Irish wonder-begged.

  “Very much. I was hoping to tie you up and…fuck you.”

  Fuck us? Lucas’s brain fought with several images that made no sense and finally Ben fixed the drawings until it showed her with a dildo strapped on, and him on his back, legs wide open with her fucking him and jacking him off.

  Lucas choked on the lava that produced in them.

  “What?” she worried.

  Ben lowered and kissed her before he could think too long about it, wanting to dispel her worries and his. “Nothing. I just can’t wait.”

  That’s our butt, Frank said, or reminded.

  Yes, and it feels good, Ben assured.

  “I’ll hurry and dress,” she suggested, making Ben realize he needed too as well.

  “I’ll talk to him in our room. I need to dress too,” he told her.

  “Okay. I’ll take a bath in the spare bathroom.”

  Ben forced himself to the door before he decided to do something else, like try and make her come in under a minute with one finger and his tongue. Twenty seconds, Irish clarified after they left out.

  What else does she force? Lucas wondered as they went.

  Without thinking, a picture of the time she sat on his face appeared in his mind, stealing their collective breaths.

  I don’t kiss but I like her lips, Frank whispered. I like that part of her too, a lot. It’s hot and soft. And wet.

  And tastes otherworldly, Irish whispered, sounding half dead as they entered the walk-in closet in their bedroom.

  Ben realized they were having a mental orgy. What happened to no talking?

  Oh wow, Irish said. This is proving to be more difficult than I thought.

  I might need to be blindfolded, Lucas realized. Seeing all of this is almost more than I can stand. It makes me do things. Say things without even meaning to.

  A knock came right as they pulled pants on. Ben hurried out and let in a disheveled looking Charlie dressed in black lounge pants and a Snoopy T-shirt.

  “Sorry to do this,” Ben said. “I’m having a lot of problems and need somebody besides your mom to talk to.”

  “It’s okay,” he said.

  “Sit,” Ben suggested at the bed while closing the door. He turned to Charlie sitting, his blue gaze on him.

  So, this is Charlie, Irish said, sounding intrigued. His name tastes like copper and smells like smoke from a cedar wood fire.

  I’ve never seen a color like this, Lucas marveled, reminding Ben they’d not met him yet.

  I have! Frank said, not realizing he was using Lucas’s gift.

  “What’s up?” Charlie asked when Ben sat next to him.

  How the hell do I say this to my son? Ben wondered, closing his eyes.

  Do you see it, Irish? Lucas asked.

  I see something strange, he answered, curious.

  What? Ben wondered.

  It’s behind his eyes. Lucas angled their head and blinked, and Ben saw the small white object inside his pupil.

  “What’s wrong?” Charlie’s words echoed in Ben’s head as Frank reached out and touched his forehead. Their eyes closed and the small white object became larger than life in their mind. It was a man in a white, hooded robe with his back to them. The man was suddenly in a room and they seemed to be standing right above and behind him.

  He leaned down next to somebody resting their head on a bed and whispered in their ear. “Head transplant.”

  He slowly straightened and the face of the person sleeping, cleared, making Ben’s heart race. Cheryl. The man turned and headed out of the room. At the door, he glanced back and Ben froze at seeing himself sleeping in the hospital bed with Cheryl’s head next to his hand, passed out. He slowly closed the door and peered through the glass from outside the room. Lucas blinked and the reflection in the glass revealed the man in the white robe. “Frank,” Ben whispered. It was Frank Ward.

  “Dad, you okay?”

  “How…how did he do that?” Ben gasped, forcing his eyes open. “Why does Charlie know that? How?”

  The color in him, Irish said, amazed.

  “I think I had a vision, dad,” Charlie said then.

  Ben slowly turned to him and the color Irish mentioned billowed around him, a blinding light blue green look.

  “What was it?” Irish asked, forgetting not to talk but needing to know.

  “I dreamed that an angel told mom about the head transplant.”

  “Holy hell,” Lucas whispered.

  But that was Frank in the glass, Ben said.

  It was, yes. He’d gone to plant the word in her mind. It was part of the plan. I remember. She would search it and find it.

  “Why would God tell me that now?” Charlie wondered.

  “Why do you think, gifted Charlie?” Frank asked in awe.

  Charlie looked at them and it was almost like his gaze entered them and he peered curiously around. “I think…so you would know.”

  “Know what?” Ben whispered.

  “That…I know.”

  Ben felt like he was in another realm as he stared into his son’s eyes. “What do you know?”

  “That you’re scared. But you don’t have to be.”

  Ben didn’t have to ask what he meant. He knew.

  “What did you want to talk about?” Charlie asked. “Is mom okay?”

  Ben blinked and saw the strange color moving around Charlie. “She’s…she’s fine.” The color seeped back into Charlie and shrunk down to a flicker at the back of his eyes before vanishing entirely.

  There’s more, Lucas was sure, blinking several times, looking for it. He needed to draw but had nothing to do it with and didn’t want to turn away and miss what he felt.

  “Oh,” Charlie said, curious now.

  “What?” Lucas demanded, holding their breath.

  “I forgot about the shaking.”

  “Shaking?” Ben repeated, feeling dizzy from Lucas’s shuffling through vision tricks too quickly.

  “Yeah, there was this low rumble or vibration.”

  “What did it do?” Lucas wondered, waiting for them to remember something. He knew they were about to get an answer but had no idea what it was, only that it was coming.

  “It just…shook everything.”

  “Like an earthquake?” Ben asked.

  “No,” Charlie said, looking at him again. “Nobody noticed it, but I could feel it everywhere.”

  “Tremor,” Lucas said.

  “Yes, exactly,” Charlie realized. “A tremor.”

  Ben had the sudden urgency to tell Charlie everything. “There are more people in my head,” he whispered, feeling like it was necessary to. “Lucas an
d Irish. They’re fractures of Frank and each…is one of his gifts. He’s gifted in all five senses. There’s two more coming and one even for his sixth sense. The sixth sense part of Frank is the one who masterminded everything. The clues, the fractures, the transplant. I don’t know how yet, and Lucas and Irish and Frank only remember what he’s allowed them to. He gives them more memories as we go.”

  “For what?” Charlie hurried.

  “They don’t remember. They only know they’re supposed to hide our head and that means we’re not safe.” Ben’s skin crawled with various sensations and he wondered what gift it came from and what it meant.

  “Something’s coming,” Frank said.

  “Now?” Ben wondered.

  “Soon. Mr. Wong is bringing it.”

  “What is he bringing?” Charlie asked.

  “We don’t know,” Frank said, shaking his head.

  “We need to finish the meshing, Ben,” Lucas said.

  It hit Ben then. “Wait, we did mesh! Is he here and we don’t know it?”

  “I don’t sense anything or see anything,” Lucas said. “Irish?”

  “Nothing,” Irish said. “Frank? You see anything?”

  “No,” he shook his head. “Only Cheryl waiting for us. She’s ready to—”

  “Shhhh,” Ben cut in. “Private.”

  He nodded. “Right, private.”

  Ben shot a glance at Charlie. “These personalities have to mesh with my mind. And… your mom,” he finally said, getting the confused look he’d expect from a seventeen-year-old. “As in…” Ben let out a gasp when he couldn’t bring himself to say it.

  “We have to have sex,” Frank barely said, like whispering it made it less TMI.

  “Wow,” Charlie said, making Ben want to hide from whatever look was in his tone. “And here I thought my sex life was headed off the rails.”

  Ben snapped his gaze to him as a mix of odd emotions hit. “You’re having sex?”

  “No, but…” he lowered his head shaking it. “I may as well be. I was trying not to do that till we are married but Alice is…”

  “Like Ben’s wife,” Lucas realized, astonished.