by J. D. Mason
Lucy fell down to the floor, drawing her knees to her chest again and coughing and gasping for air. Suddenly, Ed heard a knock at the door, and his heart jumped into his chest.
“Shhhh, Lucy,” he said, desperately trying to quiet her. “I need you to be quiet,” he warned her. “I never meant to hurt you, and I don’t want to have to—”
The knock came again. Reluctantly, he left her sitting there and went to answer the door.
“Hi, Ed.” It was his neighbor Bruce from next door. It took all of his willpower to compose himself, but inside, Ed was screaming.
Lucy could be heard coughing at the door.
“Is everything all right? Barbara thought she heard something.”
Barbara was Bruce’s wife.
“Is that Lucy?”
Ed forced a smile. “Yeah, she choked on an almond. I did the Heimlich, and she’s all right, but I think we need to go to the emergency room just as a precaution. You know. Make sure everything’s where it should be.” Ed could only hope that the alarm in Bruce’s expression faded at Ed’s lame attempt at a joke.
“Sure,” he said, glancing over Ed’s shoulder. “Well, is there anything I can do to help?”
“No, thanks, Bruce. I think I can handle it, but I really should get her to the hospital,” Ed said, quickly shutting the door.
Ed hurried back into the room, but Lucy wasn’t there. Instinctively, he raced through the dining room, into the kitchen, and found her pulling open the back door.
“No … no … no, sweetheart,” he said, rushing over to her, wrapping his arms around her waist, and carrying her back to the living room.
Ed didn’t like the look on Bruce’s face, and he didn’t want to take any chances that Bruce might decide to play hero and call the police.
Lucy fell limp in his arms and started to cry. He gently sat her down on the sofa and knelt at her feet. Ed shook his head. Shit was about to hit the fan. Ed had no more time. Bruce looked too concerned to just let this pass.
“It’s a mess, Lucy,” Ed muttered. “You have no idea what you’ve done. I can’t stay,” he said tearfully. Ed’s life was now forfeit, and time was certainly not on his side. He had no choice but to go. “But I can’t just leave you,” he told her, putting his hand underneath her chin and turning her face to his. Lucy had to understand, fully, the gravity of her actions. She had to know just how serious this was, and he had to make it clear just how far she’d pushed him. “If I kill you, they’ll never stop looking for me,” he said unemotionally, speaking more to himself than to her. Ed was processing out loud, thinking of how such a scenario could play out and the consequences, unaware of the chilling effects his words were having on his wife. “They’ll know it was me. And they’ll pin Chuck’s murder on me, and they’ll never stop looking. There are worse things than going to prison, Lucy,” he murmured with hot and angry tears filling his eyes. “There might even be worse things than dying.” Ed swallowed. Hope began to wane in him, and adrenaline ran high. “It’s over, Lucy,” he whispered, pressing his forehead to hers. The bitterness of this moment rose to the back of his throat as bile. Nothing in his life would ever be the same. And as far as his marriage to her was concerned, it truly was over. “You can’t tell anybody, Lucy.” He held her face between his hands and stared desperately into her eyes. “I can leave, and you can get on with your life, but you can’t tell anybody about me—about Chuck.”
She blinked back tears. Lucy was so afraid, but she needed to be. That’s the only way this plan of his had any possibility of working. Fear was his greatest weapon against her, and it would save both their lives.
“Understand this, sweetheart, that if you ever tell anyone about Chuck and I find out, I will come for you, and I will snatch the life right out of you, baby, and I mean that. I mean it, Lucy.” Ed’s own tears streamed down his cheeks. “I fucking mean it.”
Could he do it? If he said it, then he’d have to mean it.
“Killing’s easier than you think, Lucy.” Ed said it. And yes. He did mean it. “My God, it’s so damn easy. And if it comes down to my life or yours, I’ll take yours.”
Ed quickly went upstairs and packed the things he knew that he couldn’t easily replace. He was literally getting ready to run for his life because of her. A few minutes later, he came back downstairs and saw Lucy slumped on the sofa, staring straight ahead at nothing, numb and trembling. His beautiful Lucy was a shell of the woman he’d married. But she should’ve minded her own fucking business.
He had two choices. He could stay and be arrested, or he could get as far away from here and this life as he could, as quickly as he could, and hope that he would never be found. On his way out the back door, he stopped and looked back at her one last time. Ed thought that maybe he should tell her that he would always love her. Saying something like that would just be silly.
Also by J. D. Mason
And on the Eighth Day She Rested
One Day I Saw a Black King
Don’t Want No Sugar
This Fire Down in My Soul
You Gotta Sin to Get Saved
That Devil’s No Friend of Mine
Take Your Pleasure Where You Find It
Somebody Pick Up My Pieces
About the Author
J. D. MASON is the author of Somebody Pick Up My Pieces, Take Your Pleasure Where You Find It, That Devil’s No Friend of Mine, You Gotta Sin to Get Saved, This Fire Down in My Soul, Don’t Want No Sugar, And on the Eighth Day She Rested, and One Day I Saw a Black King. She lives in Denver, Colorado, with her two children.
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
BEAUTIFUL, DIRTY, RICH. Copyright © 2012 by J. D. Mason. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
www.stmartins.com
The Library of Congress has cataloged the print edition as follows:
Mason, J. D.
Beautiful, dirty, rich : a novel / J.D. Mason. — 1st ed.
p. cm.
ISBN 978-0-312-61727-1 (hardcover)
ISBN 978-1-250-01506-8 (e-Book)
1. Family secrets—Fiction. 2. Children of the rich—Fiction. 3. Murder victims’ families—Fiction. 4. Texas—Fiction. 5. Domestic fiction. I. Title.
PS3613.A817B43 2012
813'.6—dc23
2012007563
e-ISBN 9781250015068
First Edition: July 2012