“Read it. I’m too drunk and might puke if I have to say it out loud.”
After opening the folder Kathy’s eyes widened in shock while reading the first piece of paper.
“I found my Gameboy! Oh no, the batteries are dead. Mom? Do we have more?”
“Yeah, I think so. Check the junk drawer in the kitchen.” Kathy continued to scan the pages. For a few seconds, she felt dizzy as her heart beat in erratic thumps. She kicked Kip’s foot to get his attention. “Oh, shit! Is this for real? How’d you get all this information?”
“Some dude left it in my truck Monday night. I have no idea if the papers are true. The second I read them, I sort of freaked out. I went straight to your bar, drank until I puked and drank more. Why didn’t you go to work?”
“Because your dumb ass never showed up here. Grayson was upset and begged me to stay home.”
“Sorry.”
Kathy laughed. “Yes, you are, but no matter. Do you realize what this means for you? For us? For Grayson?”
Opening his bleary eyes, Kip blinked several times while focusing on his wife’s face. He could tell from her pupils she was loaded. The shit had to be top notch because she was beaming, legs bouncing so fast it made his head spin. “What the hell are you talking about? Why are you acting like this is good news?”
“Have you told anyone about this?”
“Hell no. Like I said, I was at Kat’s Toys trying to drink the news away. My brain’s three shades of fucked up.”
“You have no idea who left the envelope?”
Kip shook his head.
“Someone wanted you know. We need to know who that someone is, and why they decided to be so shady about informing you.”
“Why? What difference does it make? The cat’s out of the bag. God, there’s no way I can go back to Samantha’s on Saturday.”
“True, but why is it out of the bag? We need to find out. I gotta say, I’m surprised your parents didn’t tell you.”
“You’re crazy.”
“No, I’m smart. Careful. I trust no one until I know their true motivations. Don’t worry, honey. We’ll figure all that out later. Our number one priority is plotting the best course of action.”
“No, the number one priority is coffee, followed by a hot shower. I don’t want to think about this mess any more. The last twenty-four plus hours were enough.”
Kathy knew Kip couldn’t see the potential. He was a typical jock—all muscles, big cock, and little brains. Why she was attracted to such rockheads was a mystery. Well, not a complete mystery—rockheads didn’t value money. They valued a good stiffy, a wet snatch, and had no qualms about paying for both, which is what kept Viagra a top seller and strip clubs like hers rolling in cash.
“It sure is a good thing I’m the brains of our little duo. Don’t worry, babe. I got your back.” Kathy let her fingers graze Kip’s thigh. His eyes widened yet he didn’t say anything. She smiled while calling over her shoulder. “Grayson? Call and order a pizza please. Extra sauce. Oh, and breadsticks too. Daddy’s staying here tonight, and we’ll have Thanksgiving here tomorrow.”
“Yes!” Grayson squealed from the kitchen.
Rising to her feet, Kathy walked over to the dining room table. Picking up a stack of papers, she extracted a lighter from her pocket. Lighting the edges, she smiled as the pages turned into flimsy ashes fluttering into the ashtray on the table.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m burning the divorce papers I filled out last night, darling husband.”
Sitting up, Kip tried to force his mind to engage. “You are? Why?”
Smiling, a real, genuine smile for the first time in years, Kathy turned around, licking her lips as a plan spun inside her mind. “Because we’re staying married.”
“We are?”
“Yep. Shhh. Our little secret. Tell no one, and I mean it. No one. Stay tonight and tomorrow then head back to Arkansas on Friday with Grayson. Keep things status quo until I work out the details.”
Kip scratched his head in confusion. Sometimes his wife said things he didn’t understand. “Status quo? What does that mean?”
“You’re such a rockhead but I still love you. Status quo means keeping things the same. You don’t let on anything’s different. And for God’s sake, don’t tell a fucking soul about what’s in the envelope.”
“What? Why?”
“Revenge, you fool. Sweet, tasty, fucking epic revenge.”
“Huh?”
Returning to the couch, Kathy straddled Kip, pressing her hands against both sides of his face. Ignoring his rank breath, she kissed him, grinding her hips into his crotch. Once finished, she sat back and smiled. “Leave things to me, baby. You’re gonna love my plan. Tell me what you meant about Saturday.”
“I have to fix some things at Samantha’s. I can’t do it. I can’t.”
The wheels of curiosity went into overdrive. Kathy raised her eyebrows. “What things need fixing?”
“A few lights I didn’t install. I’m not going.”
Kathy grinned, thrilled there was a way to get back inside the house without arousing suspicion. “Oh, you’re going, and you’ll fix them—with an added, secret bonus.”
The room spun. Kip felt sick. “Added bonus?”
Rising to her feet, Kathy paced in small circles as the plan formed. “Yes. Recording equipment. You love spy movies. Now you get to star in one.”
“Fuck. I can’t think about this shit anymore. I’m hitting the shower.”
“Of course, babe. Here, let me take your jacket. I’ll charge your phone up too.”
Kip stood, wobbling down the hallway. Waiting until the bathroom door closed, Kathy went to the kitchen and plugged in his cell. In seconds, the screen turned back on. She went straight to messages, hoping to find proof her instincts were correct.
They were.
Several text messages from “SC” filled the screen. Scrolling backward, she was stunned to find the two had been texting for over four months. At first, they were sporadic and rather innocent, gushing about the house. During the last month they switched to constant contact and anything but innocent. At least thirty a day, including half-naked pictures sent of Suzy’s boobs and twat discretely covered in varying outfits of lace or leather. Never a face, only body parts, which meant they might be someone else’s goodies, but Kathy knew better.
She recognized the heart-shaped, half-dollar sized birthmark on the left breast. She had seen it many times during junior high school gym class, teasing Suzy and Sam both without mercy.
Six weeks prior, Kip shared images of his junk. That particular piece of meat she recognized. She almost laughed out loud because he manscaped the area—something he never did for his wife, though she begged him to for years.
On a whim, she forwarded all the images to her cell then deleted the fact she sent them. She wasn’t sure how the pictures would come in to play quite yet, but she was devious enough to assume they would.
The entire situation was sick, twisted, and more than demented. Part of her couldn’t blame Kip for pounding booze to rid himself of the disgusting scenario—one straight out of a Hollywood movie script or disturbed horror writer’s mind.
Drumming her fingers on the counter, Kathy closed her eyes. Leave the jealousy at the door, girl. Concentrate on a plan. Make everyone pay while filling your bank account. Every. Fucking. One. Push past the anger and focus on picking Kip’s mind the second the cheating bastard gets out of the shower.
CHAPTER FIVE
Thursday, November 24, 2016
SAM SIGHED WHILE pausing at the door to collect her thoughts. What she wanted to do was turn around and go home, cocoon herself under warm covers while watching sappy, classic holiday movies and drink. Instead, she pulled herself together, hid the bruises on her neck with a scarf and the Glock in a bellyband. She topped off the ensemble with an oversized sweater, caked her face with enough makeup to hide the dark circles, and drove to Nana’s for Thanksgiving dinner
.
After three full nights of jumping at every sound, lack of solid rest for more than two hours at a time, unable to hold down food, she was a jittery mess. Having to face her mother didn’t help matters either.
While tossing and turning every night, she went over hundreds of different scenarios about how to address the intrusion into her private life. They all ended in disaster. Despite their mutual, numerous flaws and difficulty expressing emotions, deep down inside, Sam knew they both loved each other the best they knew how.
Suzy was right—Sam shouldered part of the blame for keeping secrets. If her mother knew what kind of man Richard was, and the despicable things he did to her, Charmaine Chapman would probably be in jail, charged with murder.
The thought made her lips curve upward in a smirk. Sam’s temper was passed along through her mother’s chromosomes, not Big Sam’s, which is another reason she handled things with Richard the way she did.
The last three days had her second-guessing previous decisions regarding Richard. Had it been Suzy or a stranger who shared what happened with the men in their lives, she would have given polar-opposite advice rather than the direction she chose. Sam was a pro at helping removing specks from the eyes of others while ignoring the beams in her own.
Glancing down at the keys in her hand, she grimaced. The little silver safety deposit key was tangled between the other jangling, bigger keys. The original, signed agreement and a flash drive containing the video of the night she obtained her freedom were hidden. Big Sam didn’t raise a fool.
Richard signed the agreement and handed over his recording at the same time she provided hers, yet they both knew the other well enough to assume copies were retained. Sam destroyed the flash drive Richard provided by crushing it under the tires of her SUV before tossing the broken pieces into the fireplace. Each had the ability to destroy the reputation of the other, though neither did for fear the other would follow suit.
Sam made peace with the choices a year ago. The situation had been contained between the former lovers—or so she thought. After Richard’s surprise visit and the ugly, dangerous encounter on the back deck, Sam couldn’t shake the knot of dread inside her chest.
What if Richard decided to expose their deeds to her mother, sister, or God forbid, Nana? What if he went nuts and uploaded the video on social media for the entire world to watch?
Those frightening scenarios were bad enough, but what kept her from sleeping was the dread he might turn his violent tendencies toward her family or friends because she refused to take him back.
The mangled corpse of a cat on the back deck discovered the night prior was proof, along with the disturbing texts messages from an unknown, blocked number.
While out on the back smoking one cigarette after another, Sam contained her tears as she took the poor creature and buried it, realizing she put everyone she loved in danger. Richard was volatile, demented man, and the dead feline was proof he crossed the line. He was sneaky, patient, and unforgiving.
Besides Richard’s smoldering looks, Sam had been duped by his charm and attentiveness. She didn’t realize it at the time, yet like a predator on the hunt he waited for several years, watching from a distance, keeping their relationship professional until she turned into a weak, emotional mess after Big Sam died.
Richard Benton was a bastard; a slimy, scaly, dangerous bastard.
She waffled back and forth about discussing the situation with her mother and Suzy after Thanksgiving dinner, yet decided not to ruin the day. Besides, she didn’t want to risk the chance of Nana or her niece and nephew overhearing the conversation. Even though Sam planned on only sharing the basics, Nana and the kids didn’t need to know. She planned on inviting Mom and Suzy to the house on Saturday to spill a handful of beans. The number one priority was keeping her family and loved ones safe.
“Aunt Sam! Where’s the pumpkin pie?”
Startled by the voice behind her, Sam spun around. Rachel bounded up the steps. Bending down, she wrapped her arms around her niece’s shoulders. She didn’t want to let the precious girl feel the bulge behind her back. “I, oh, I’m sorry, sweetie. I didn’t make one. You know I don’t have an oven at my new place. At Christmas, I’ll pop over here ahead of time and make one. Promise.”
“What about one for me?”
Ruffling Reed, Jr.’s strawberry blond hair, Sam smiled. “Of course, just don’t tell your mother. You know how she feels about sugar.”
Rachel giggled. “We won’t.”
Eyeing the package of pecans and whipped cream in Rachel’s hand, Sam smiled. No matter how much her sister planned for the holidays, she always forgot something, forcing Reed to scavenge the depleted shelves of Walmart. “Chef Suzy is keeping with tradition I see.”
“You know it.” Reed laughed. “Happy Thanksgiving, Sam. Nice scarf. Why are you standing out here in the cold air? Afraid the temperature is colder inside?”
“Isn’t is always?” Sam teased while opening the front door. The foursome stepped inside then shed their coats. She made a mental note to remind Nana to keep the door locked. “Mmmm. Smells like Suzy, Mom and Nana outdid themselves this year. Is that rum spice cake I smell?”
“Reed? Did you get the pecans?” Suzy yelled from the kitchen.
“Got them right here, Mom,” Rachel answered back, sprinting down the hall.
Sam followed while the trio headed toward the kitchen. Watching the kids interact with Reed and the rest of her family almost made her tear up. She wanted to blame the hysterectomy for making her sentimental but didn’t. It was still difficult at times to wrap her head around the fact she would never be the mother with kids jumping and yelling at her feet.
The bunch in front of her was an interesting mixture of personalities but it didn’t matter. They were family; Sam’s only remaining kin.
Stopping shy of the kitchen, feeling the weight of the loaded gun on her hip, Sam suppressed the worry inside her chest and smiled.
“LEAVE THOSE AND let the kids put them away. They’re able to reach the shelves better than us short gals. Besides, I want you to join me outside.”
“I don’t mind, Nana. As usual, dinner was fantastic. Cleaning up is the least I can do since I didn’t bring any…”
“Samantha—now.”
Eyes widening in shock at the tone in Nana’s voice, Sam was surprised she used her given name. Nana tended to call her Slugger like Big Sam did. “What’s wrong?”
Caroline peeked over her shoulder to ensure the others were still in the living room watching football. “Nothing. I need a cigar and it looks like you need a smoke. Come on.”
“Nana, I quit last…”
“Uh huh. Like I quit taking my evening tea with three shots of peppermint schnapps?”
Sam chuckled. “Yeah, like that.”
Once outside on the massive concrete patio dotted with white holiday lights, Caroline pushed away the memory of the night two years prior when she found Stan dead in a chair, making her a widow. She flicked the lighter, taking several puffs, ignoring the pang of grief. “Ah, there’s nothing better than sitting outside on a crisp evening with my girl, the sweet taste and scent of black cherry on the tongue and in the air.”
Looking around to make sure the kids were still inside, Sam extracted a pack of smokes from her purse yet held it in her hand. “How did you know?”
“Oh, honey. Everyone knows. We smell it. I’m the only one bold enough to say something. You know me—no filter. Your pop used to tease me all the time, saying I was born in the wrong era or the wrong sex. Ha, he even tried to convince me after Big Sam left for college to run for mayor of Hot Springs. He was fond of saying no person alive could out-talk me. Lord, how I do miss him.”
“I miss Pop too. And Big Sam. The holidays are the hardest. Both of them loved Thanksgiving and Christmas. Remember how they used to argue about who would carve the turkey?”
Nodding once, Caroline noticed Sam fidgeting in the chaise. “I do. Lord, girl. Will you stop
worrying about who may or may not be watching? Like I said, everyone knows. I’m not planning on giving you a lecture. Judging others isn’t in my bag of tricks.”
Sam smiled. “Are you’re saying I’m wasting my time trying to hide my dirty deed?”
“Honey, I learned decades ago trying to hide things is more of a chore than coming clean. Recent days reminded me about the little life tidbit.”
Sam raised an eyebrow. “Rather cryptic, Nana. Want to share with me what you mean?”
“Sure. Right after you share why you’re packing heat and look like any second you’re gonna jump right out of your skin.”
“Can’t hide anything from you, huh?”
“Nope. I noticed when you bent over to put plates in the dishwasher. Figured since you’re wearing a bulky sweater in an attempt to hide the gun, you didn’t want the others to know.”
Heat raced up from Sam’s chest to her cheeks. “Thanks for not calling me out in front of them. You’re right—I don’t want them to know.”
Taking a few more drags, Caroline waited for a full minute before speaking. “Are you concerned about your former boyfriend?”
“Of course not.” Sam forced her voice to remain calm. “I live and work in an area where I need to be vigilante about my safety at all times. I have a concealed carry permit, so it is time to start wearing my gun. The majority of each day I’ll be alone.”
Caroline blew out a puff of smoke. “Nice lie, Slugger. Good enough I almost fell for it. If you say it like that in front of your mother or sister, they might swallow it. But you can’t bullshit a bullshitter.”
Sam puffed away on the cigarette, saying nothing while staring out into the dark woods.
Thinking about the night of the open house and Maria’s comment about Sam being in some sort of pickle, Caroline chose her words with care rather than being blunt. “Want to explain why you’re dressing like your mother now? The last time I recall seeing you wear a scarf you were a toddler.”
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