Outside the Italian restaurant, under the shadow of a green tent, Hector lit a cigarette, the tip glowing as he watched her shut the car door and come over.
Heavy clouds gathered above, promising a heavy rain. A family of four exited the restaurant, their cheerful chatter contrasting with the silence with which Hector greeted her.
Beth waited for him to speak first, keenly aware of his potential for violence. But for endless minutes he merely smoked his cigarette and looked her slowly up and down as though he could see Landon’s fingertips and brands on her body.
It struck Beth how in six years married to him, she’d never experienced an ounce of the happiness, the connection, she’d felt with Landon in a matter of weeks. How sad that she hadn’t known this before, hadn’t known that things didn’t need to be stale, that things could be better than boring and actually be wonderful.
“You’ve been talking to Gage,” Hector drawled in a hard, insulting voice, putting out his cigarette with his boot. “He’s been poking around my business—what did you tell him, Beth?”
She loathed to discover the fear she’d once had of him was still present, crawling up her spine and ready to immobilize her. It was followed with animosity, and hate, so much hate she began to tremble.
“Well, he is my husband. And we do talk, Hector.” It had been a long, long time since she’d spoken to him so firmly.
His eyes became slits, as he gave her the most chilling, most frightening smile. “Your little game has gone on long enough. I say it’s time we put a stop to it, don’t you? Your mouth has been flapping open for weeks and Beth?” He pitched his voice lower. “I don’t like it.”
Bubbles of hysteria rose to her throat, and she had to swallow before speaking. “The game has only just begun,” she said, fighting to sound confident. “I’ve told him things, Hector. But I’ve still got to tell him how you medicated his wife until she couldn’t even think straight!”
r /> His eyes widened, and he took a threatening step forward. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Oh, I dare all right!” She took a step back—and Hector another step forward. “He’s on to you, Hector. He knows what you are!”
He manacled her wrist in one hand, his tobacco breath blasting across her face. “One more word out of you and your little husband—”
“You can’t hurt him!” she spat, anger and frustration sharpening her voice as she squirmed to free herself. She wanted to shrink from his gaze, his lashing words, his beastly touch. “You’ve tried for years and you can’t touch him!”
His expression contorted into a terrifying sneer. His nails bit into her skin. “Oh, I can hurt him. I’ll tear Gage apart if you take me to court, Beth.”
She laughed cynically. “Right. Like you can destroy a Gage.”
Smiling that Lucifer-like smile, he released her. Beth rubbed her wrist as he lighted another cigarette, took a drag, then flicked it down on the ground, and stepped on it. “You’re a Lewis.” He blew the smoke into her face. “A little nobody. As easily crushed…as this. And Gage…he’s scrupulous and it will get him killed. That’s no way to win a war, Beth. You’ll never get David. Ever.”
Her breath grew choppy. Fear and fury whirled and churned in her belly. How could you spend years and years of your life with a rat? How could you bear it?
And Landon. What would he do when she told him about this? He’d warned her not to see him, talk to Hector, but he didn’t understand this bastard had her child!
“Why do you want him?” she screamed, gripping her purse tight to her chest to keep from flinging it at him. “You hardly paid attention to him. Why do you want him?”
“Because you do.” His face was a mask of rage, and his words poison. “Oh, I may have eventually given him back to you, after you learned your lesson of what happens when you leave me. But not after Gage, oh, no, never after Gage. Unless…” Hector snagged her elbow and immediately the space between them disappeared as he stepped forward. “Unless you divorce him and come back to me.”
Somewhere in the depths of her panic, she found her courage. She yanked her arm free, and said, “Go to hell.”
But he moved fast and he seized her by the arm. This time he cut off her circulation. “Look behind you, Beth. Do you see my blue Lexus parked by the oaks?”
Woodenly, Beth turned, his grip spreading a biting pain up her arm. She saw him. David. His little face pressed against the glass, tears streaming down his cheeks.
Panic choked her.
“David!” she cried, and started for him without thought. Hector yanked her back by both arms and wheeled her around to face him.
He pressed his face inhumanly close, so that when he spoke, she could feel his loathsome lips moving against her own pursed ones. “The only way you can see him and touch him and kiss him is if you return to me. If you return to my bed.”
Beth didn’t know how she managed, only knew that she had to leave, now, before this became a public spectacle.
She spat into his face, wrenched free, and ran, her breath soughing out of her chest like a hunted animal’s. She flung herself against the side of the Lexus and tried yanking open the door, but it didn’t budge. “Mommy!” she heard David wail from the inside, frightened, and her heart broke when she heard the muffled cry coming over and over like a litany.
Tears flowed down her cheeks as she fought with the door. She was crying—crying for him, for her, for every mother.
Helpless to get him out, she put her hand against the window and spread it wide and spoke as loudly as she could. “David, I’m going to be with you soon, I promise! I promise!”