“That kind of day?” It was a halfhearted attempt at conversation that she had heard one too many times.
“You have no idea.” She winked, popped the aspirin in her mouth, and chased it with a gulp of bourbon. The blend burned her throat, and she would have coughed if her damn ribs hadn’t hurt so bad. But as the fire subsided, soothing warmth began to spread through her body.
“Sonny, what the hell have you been doing?” she muttered.
She gulped down what remained in the glass. The second glass arrived right on its heels. This time she sipped. She stared into the amber liquid. Neon lights from the front window sign reflected in the tawny drink as she tipped the glass slowly from side to side.
Hitting that stump had been a stupid mistake. She’d had no idea it and a dozen of its friends were hiding in the tall grass, waiting to pounce on the dumbass who thought she could run the gauntlet. But she had been rattled. Images of the pickle jar flashed in her mind. What the hell kind of monster had Sonny turned into?
BB’s hand trembled slightly as she raised the edge of her blouse. The initial redness on her belly was turning blue. Fucking stump.
“Shit.” BB pulled out a packet of smokes from her purse. Lighting the tip of one, she inhaled deeply, savoring the burn in her lungs.
When she had seen him face to face a couple of days ago, she had been startled by how big he had become. He had always been tall, but now he was muscular, and any hints of the boy she had known were gone.
“I told you when you called last week that I didn’t want to see you,” Sonny said.
“Honey, that hurts. After all we’ve been through.” She had always been able to sweet-talk him. “I want to make things right between us.”
“Get out. I don’t ever want to see you again. And stop calling me.” He looked as if he was going to hit her, but Elena called out from the car. He looked past her to the child and stilled.
“I want us to be a family.”
He blinked and shook his head. “Go!”
Irritated, she spoke before she really thought. “I’m not giving up on you, Sonny. You and me and the kid can be a family.”
That seemed to piss him off. “You’re not my family.”
“We are family. Give me the key so I can get the money out of the safety-deposit box. Once we have that, we can do anything.”
He shook his head, a bitter smile twisting his lips. “You came for the money.”
“I came for you.”
“Really? Well, I threw out the key.”
A smile tugged the edge of her lips. “You never throw out anything. Especially stuff I give you. Still have that gold key chain I bought you in Reno the night you got your cherry popped?”
Hints of color rose in his cheeks, and he shoved her back. “Fuck off, BB.”
“BB!” Elena shouted.
The kid had gotten out of the car and followed her. “I’m right here, baby.”
As Elena came closer, Sonny looked as if he’d seen a ghost. “Who the hell is that?”
BB smiled. The kid was the trump card she would play next. She wrapped her arms around the girl’s thin shoulders. “Elena.”
“Elena?” he said softly.
“Looks just like the other little girl we both loved. Remember?”
Sonny stumbled back, his gaze locking on the child. “Go away.”
“My key, please.”
He slammed the door in her face.
BB and the kid had found a motel and cooled their heels for a couple of days. That gave her time to figure out Sonny’s habits and schedules. On the third day, when he left for work, she broke into his house.
As a kid, Sonny had had a habit of hiding his money in his shoes. She went straight to his closet and searched among the high-dollar country-western boots. She quickly found a few hundred bucks rubber banded around several credit cards shoved in a boot. Shuffling through the cards, she realized none had his name on them. Ol’ Sonny was stealing just like Mama BB had taught him. It made her proud.
She’d been pocketing the cards when she had spotted the jar. One look at the grisly contents, and she’d known Sonny was far more dangerous than she had realized.
She ground her cigarette into an ashtray. The bartender brought over another drink, and she gulped it down in one swallow. “I like your style, baby. I’ll take another.”
“I’ll need a card to keep this tab running.”
She handed him a credit card. “There you go, doll.”
As the booze soothed her nerves, her thoughts slowed so that she could process them.
She had wiped the car clean of her prints, so the chances of a cop identifying her quickly were slim to none. She had wiped the jar down as soon as she’d placed it in her trunk. And if she had not been in such a damned panic after the crash, she would have taken it with her. The little trinkets were her path back to the key.
Leaving Elena behind had not been a choice but a necessity. There was no way she could drag her own battered body away from the wreck and have a kid in tow.
Jesus, that kid could scream.
Elena was a pain in the ass, but BB liked her. The girl was tough and was going to be a ballbuster one day.
It was not like she had abandoned Elena or left her to face a pack of wolves. As she’d fled through the tall grass and shrubs, the distant sound of police sirens had mingled with the kid’s cries. The cops would see her right away and take her to the hospital to get checked out. There might be a foster home, but BB would find a way to track the kid. She no longer had the jar, but if she could get the kid, there still might be a chance to trade with Sonny.
When she reached the bottom of her glass, she was tempted to order another drink. She pushed the glass away and asked the bartender for the tab. Drunks got sloppy and ended up in jail.
The bartender brought her a slip to sign. The card had worked. Hopefully she would get a few more hours’ use out of it before it popped as stolen.
The bartender picked up the slip, glanced at the tip, and smiled. “Thanks, Dee.”
A crooked grin tipped the edges of her lips as she freshened her pink lipstick. “No, thank you, baby.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Monday, August 24, 11:00 p.m.
Fear had been a part of Sonny for as long as he could remember.
As a small boy, he was always terrified that his world would shatter. Day after day, he would conjure imagined scenarios that cast him alone in an empty, cold house or running down a dark, lonely road, chasing headlights that vanished into the night.
The last few days had been particularly jarring. It should have been business as usual, but the foundation under his feet was crumbling.
A girlfriend had once announced he had abandonment issues as she packed her things and left his house for good. She accused him of holding on too tight. That he needed to trust. “Not everyone is out to screw you over,” she had screamed as she’d slammed the door on her way out.
But she had been wrong. Hell, his last girlfriend, Jennifer, had left him not even a week ago. He had moved on, of course, but as he sat in the tub with his new girl, Tammy, he made a point to savor this perfect moment, which he knew would not last.
In the background, the country music playlist finished the last of twenty songs and reset to the first song. Roger Miller snapped his fingers in a steady beat, strummed his guitar strings, and launched into “King of the Road.” The smooth melody conjured memories of riding down back roads in a blue Cadillac, top down, with the sun warming his face as his outstretched hand tried to catch the wind blowing over his fingertips. But today, he resented the uncomfortable reminder that his time was up. Time to move on. Nothing lasts forever.
The bathwater was turning cold, and the light was fading. The tall candles had melted down to nubs, leaving only a faint glow and a puddle of wax pooled on the vanity. He shifted and tightened his hold around her soft, supple shoulders as he pulled her closer to him. “It’s time.”
She was silent. Undaunted by the chilling waters. He knew she enjoyed it as much as he did. Maybe more.
He leaned her forward, rose out of the tub, and stepped onto the ice-blue bath mat that matched the towels on the rack and the paint on the wall. He gently laid her back against the edge of the tub and smoothed her blond hair off her face.
The music’s novice chords of A, D, E, A, A, D, E repeated as the song rolled on like a trucker’s wheels.
Nothing lasted forever.
He dried off and dressed in dark jeans, a V-neck sweater, and worn cowboy boots that he had bought in Kansas City thirteen years ago. He glanced back at the woman with her arched back, which exposed the delicate curve of her neck. So beautiful.
“I know you want me to stay, baby,” he whispered.
Silent, Tammy ignored him. He had seen the same look on Jennifer’s face.
Sighing, he reached in a small duffel and pulled out a favorite pair of bolt cutters. The sharp tip of the shears caught the fading candlelight.
He knelt by the tub and gently removed Tammy’s hand from the water. “I want to remember you, like this, forever.”
His fingers skimmed over the slim wrist. The pulse that had beaten so furiously when he had first met her had stopped. She felt no more fear. She no longer had to make the rent or worry about her ex finding a prettier version of her or about her crap boss pinching her ass when no one was looking. He had released her of her burdens.