‘You’re right. I work for Kip,’ Angie admitted. ‘And I do a lot of bad shit for him, but I’m not going to do this.’
‘Crisis of conscience?’ Jo gave a hard laugh. She knew what fixers did. She’d been wrapped up in professional sports for her entire adult life. ‘Reuben keeps a knife by our bed. His gun is two inches from his hand when he takes a shower. He beats me.’ She realized her voice was too loud. People were starting to stare. ‘He beats me,’ she repeated, softer. ‘He rapes me. He makes me beg for him to keep doing it. I have to apologize afterward for making him lose control. He makes me thank him when I’m allowed to get a fucking cup of coffee or take my son on a playdate.’
‘Then leave.’
‘You don’t think I’ve tried?’ She looked away, shaking her head. ‘The first time, I went back home. I stayed at my mama’s. Three days away from him. Three days of freedom. Do you know what he did?’ She glared at Angie. ‘He dragged me out of my mother’s house by my hair. He near about beat the life out of me. He locked me in a box and he kept me in his garage and you know what the cops told my mama when she called, telling them that her daughter had been kidnapped by a madman? “Domestic problem.” That’s all I am—a domestic problem.’
Angie wasn’t surprised. The small-town cops who had arrested Jo with those prescriptions were probably the same cops who had looked the other way on Jo’s abduction. If you were willing to take one pay-off, then it was just a matter of time before you took another.
‘There is a wall of money backstopping these men. They don’t lose things. They don’t lose their wives. They don’t lose their children.’ She told Angie, ‘I tried in California. I tried in Chicago. Each time, Reuben came and dragged me back. He used my mama against me. He used Anthony.’ Jo’s tone changed at her son’s name. ‘My birth mother abandoned me. I know how that feels. I’m not going to do that to my child.’
Angie felt her stomach clench. ‘Do you know anything about her?’
‘Does it matter?’ Jo asked. ‘I can’t run to her for help, if that’s what you’re asking. She’s probably dead by now. Even back then, she was a prostitute. A junkie. Exactly the kind of trash you’d expect to give up a baby.’
Angie took a deep breath.
‘I’m not going to leave my boy. If Reuben was father of the year, I still wouldn’t leave Anthony. That kind of damage, it rots your soul.’
Angie had to get away from the subject. ‘What was your plan when you showed Marcus the video? What did you think you’d get out of him?’
‘Money. Protection.’ She slowly exhaled. ‘Without the video, I’ve got nothing.’
‘It doesn’t matter. It’s what you’ve seen. It’s your ability to open your mouth.’
‘Nobody cares what I have to say.’
‘You know too much,’ Angie told her. ‘As far as Kip and Marcus are concerned, your mouth is a loaded gun.’
Jo took a deep breath, just like Angie had. ‘So here I am again, trapped right back where I started.’
Angie couldn’t abide the resignation in her voice. ‘I’ve got a plan to buy you some time, get you away from your husband.’
‘What are you going to do?’ Jo’s mouth twisted into a scowl. ‘You think you can take on Reuben Figaroa? Shit. You’ll get a gun in your face. That man doesn’t back down and he does not give up control.’ She counted down on her fingers. ‘I’m not on the bank accounts. I’m not on the investments. I’m not on the pensions. I’m not on the house. I don’t own my car. I signed a prenup before we got married.’ She laughed, this time at herself. ‘I was in love, baby. I didn’t want money. I willingly signed myself into slavery.’
‘I can get you out,’ Angie said. ‘I can keep you safe.’ She had thought through some of this already. Dale’s trust fund for Delilah. Angie was authorized to pay for an apartment and living expenses. She could use the money for Jo instead. ‘I can get an alias for you. I’ll help you hide out. Once you’re safe, I’ll find a lawyer who can negotiate with Reuben.’
‘How’re you gonna get me out?’ Jo asked. ‘That’s the hard part. You might as well be saying to me that you’re gonna hide me out on Mars, and we’ll figure out how to fly me there later.’
She was right. Reuben would be waiting for Jo outside the jail. He wouldn’t let her out of his sight until she left for rehab. If he let her leave for rehab.
‘You don’t get it, do you?’ Jo seemed genuinely perplexed. ‘Reuben doesn’t care about basketball. He doesn’t care about Anthony. He doesn’t really care about me. He wants control.’ She closed the space between her and Angie. ‘I’ll do whatever that man wants. Anything, you feel me? He just says the word. Snaps his fingers. And he still holds a knife to my face. He still wraps his hand around my throat. He can’t get off unless I’m terrified.’
Angie couldn’t think about all the ways her daughter had been shamed. ‘Tell me something, what’s it going to be like when Anthony gets older? How are you going to protect him?’
‘Reuben wouldn’t hurt his son.’
Angie wondered if she could hear herself. ‘He’s going to see how his daddy treats you. He’s going to grow into that same kind of man.’
‘No,’ she insisted. ‘He’s sweet. He’s got nothing of his daddy in him.’
‘Wasn’t Reuben sweet when you first met him?’
Jo pressed her lips together. She looked down at her hands. Angie thought that she was going to come up with another excuse, but she said, ‘What’s your plan?’
‘You’ll bail out Saturday. I know Reuben will be waiting for you outside the jail. So will the photographers. I’ll make sure of that. You can go with me instead.’
‘That’s your plan?’ She looked more dejected than before. ‘Step two of that is Reuben either pulls out his gun and shoots me in the head, or I get a call from his lawyer saying I’m a junkie with a record and I’m never gonna see my son again.’ She laughed. ‘And he still shoots me in the head.’
She was right, but Jo had spent years trying to think of a way out. Angie had spent two days. ‘What about when you go to the party on Sunday?’
Jo started to shake her head, but then she stopped. ‘Anthony will stay with my mother. She’s the only one Reuben allows to keep him.’
Angie asked, ‘Can you get away from Reuben at the party? Go to the bathroom or something?’
‘He’ll be with the guys. With Marcus.’ She explained, ‘That’s when they made the video. It was that girl, the one who charged Marcus with rape.’
‘Keisha Miscavage?’
‘Yes.’ She wiped her eyes. She couldn’t wipe away the fear. ‘You should know what you’re up against. What they do to women who don’t matter. That girl was drugged. I know they put something in her drink. An hour later, she’s in that bedroom, arms flopping around, out of her mind, telling them no. And they just laughed while they took turns with her.’