The Kept Woman (Will Trent 8)

‘Please!’ Jo begged. ‘Help me!’

Reuben Figaroa was dragging his wife by the hair. Jo’s bare feet scraped across the grass. He was taking her to the woods, away from the house. He wanted to have some privacy.

‘Help!’

Angie didn’t give him a warning. She didn’t tell him to stop. She held the tire iron over her head as she ran toward him. By the time Reuben realized she was there, Angie was swinging the heavy metal bar at his head. She felt the iron shudder in her hand, vibrate down her arm and into her shoulder.

Reuben dropped Jo. His mouth was open. His eyes rolled back in his head. He fell to the ground, unconscious. Angie raised the iron again, this time aiming for his knee. The one with the brace. The one he’d had surgery on. Time was moving slow enough for her to register the fact that the best orthopedist in the world had given him five more years of playing basketball and with one swing of her arm Angie was going to take that away.

‘No!’ Jo stopped Angie’s hand. ‘Not his knee! Not his knee!’

Angie struggled, trying to free her arm, to take that final swing.

‘Please!’ Jo begged. ‘Don’t! Please!’

Angie looked at the tire iron. Saw her daughter’s hand gripping her own. The first time Jo had ever touched her.

‘Let’s go,’ Jo said. ‘Let’s just go.’ She was begging. Her eyes were wild. Blood poured from her nose and mouth. She looked like she didn’t know who she was more afraid of: Angie or her husband.

Angie forced the muscles in her arm to relax. She jogged down the driveway, ran down the street. Her shoes were still in the road. Angie scooped them up as she walked by. She was throwing the tire iron in the trunk when Jo caught up with her.

‘I need him to play,’ she said. ‘His next contract—’

‘Get in the car.’ Angie threw her shoes into the back seat. She didn’t want to hear excuses. Even as Jo left, she was planning her way back.

The engine was already running. Angie strapped on her seat belt. Jo got into the car. Angie pulled away before she could close the door.

‘He saw me,’ Jo said. ‘I was trying to—’

‘It doesn’t matter.’ Reuben had recognized Angie. She had seen it in his eyes. He knew she worked for Kip. He knew that she was his fixer. And now he knew that Angie had taken his wife.

Jo reached for her seat belt. The buckle clicked. She stared ahead at the road. ‘Do you think he’s dead?’

‘He passed out.’ Angie looked at her watch. How long before Reuben came to? How long before he called Kip and Laslo and Dale?

‘What have I done?’ Jo mumbled. It was sinking in now, the price she would pay for her disobedience, the cost of returning to her life. ‘We have to stop. We can’t do this.’

Angie told her, ‘I’ve got the video.’

‘What?’

‘I have the video of Marcus and Reuben raping that girl.’

‘How?’ Jo didn’t wait for an explanation. ‘You can’t use it. They’ll go to jail. LaDonna—’

‘I’m not afraid of LaDonna.’

‘You damn well should be.’

Angie swerved into a parking lot. She pulled into a space beside a black Ford Fusion. ‘Here’s the key.’ Angie dropped the sun visor and let the key fall into Jo’s lap. ‘Go to the motel. Wait for me.’

‘We can’t do this,’ Jo said. ‘The video. They’ll kill me. They’ll kill you.’

‘Don’t you think I know that?’ Angie’s fists were clenched. She was overwhelmed with the desire to punch some sense into her child. ‘It’s over, sweetheart. This is the end of the line. There’s no going back to Reuben. There’s no going back to anything.’

‘I can’t—’

‘Get out.’ Angie leaned over and pushed open the door. She fought with the seat-belt buckle. ‘Get out of my car.’

‘No!’ Jo clawed at Angie’s hands. ‘He’ll find me! You don’t understand!’ She scanned Angie’s face, looking for compassion. When she didn’t find it, her face contorted in agony. She covered her eyes with her hands. Sobs came out of her mouth. ‘Please don’t make me.’

Angie watched her daughter cry. The girl’s thin shoulders were shaking. Her hands trembled. The act might be heartbreaking to someone who actually had a heart.

Angie said, ‘Cut the shit. I’m not buying it.’

Jo looked up at her. There were no tears in her eyes, just hatred. ‘You can’t make me do anything.’

‘Was he sweet to you?’ Angie asked, because that was the only thing that made sense. ‘You got out of jail, and instead of beating you, he said everything was going to be okay? That it was going to be different from now on?’

Jo’s nostrils flared. Angie had hit the mark.

‘Is that how he roped you back in? “Oh baby, I love you. I’ll take care of you. I’ll never let you go. I’ll never abandon you like your mama did.” ’

‘Don’t you throw my mama back in my face.’

Angie grabbed Jo’s chin and jerked her head around. ‘Listen up, you dumb bitch. Reuben saw me. He knows that I’m helping you. You think your mama didn’t give a shit about you? That’s not even half of what I’m feeling right now.’

Jo’s tears were real now.

Angie tightened her grip on the girl’s face. ‘You’re gonna get in that car and you’re going to drive to the motel and I’m going to pick up your son and we are both going to get the hell out of here. Do you understand me?’

Jo nodded.

Angie pushed the girl’s face away. ‘Give me your phone.’

‘I dropped it when—’

Angie patted her down. She found the iPhone tucked into Jo’s bra. ‘Did you tell your mother that I’m going to pick up Anthony?’

Jo nodded again.

‘If you’re lying to me—’ Angie stopped, because there was nothing to do if Jo was lying. ‘Get out of the car.’

Jo was too afraid to move. ‘He’ll find me. He’ll find us.’

Angie grabbed the front of her dress and slammed her against the seat. ‘You do this right now or I will cut your son into little pieces and mail him back to you.’

‘Reuben will give you whatever you want.’ Her voice was a shriek. ‘He’ll pay whatever—’

‘Anthony will pay.’

Tears streamed down Jo’s face. She had realized that she was out of options. Slowly she nodded, just like Angie knew she would. Women like Jo only ever responded to threats.

Angie said, ‘Don’t stop to use a pay phone. Don’t go back to Rippy’s. Get in the car. Drive to the motel. Wait for me.’

Jo got out of the car. She opened the door to the rental. Angie waited for her to drive off, to make sure she went down Piedmont instead of back toward Tuxedo Drive.

Angie rolled down the window. She tossed Jo’s iPhone onto the pavement. She resisted the urge to get out of the car and stomp it into the ground.

‘I knew it,’ she mumbled to herself.

She had known that her daughter was weak. She had known that Jo would try to back down.