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My nose burns, the blood dripping profusely, but I nod anyway, and he takes off. I go for an old blanket on the sofa and press it to my nose, then close the door. When the bleeding has stopped, I face my husband, who is still out cold in the chair. He’ll wake in a few hours and so will the women in the back room. I cling to my rib, sitting in the chair across from him, and waiting for him to wake up.
SIXTY-FOUR
DOMINIC
There’s a throbbing on the back of Dominic’s head. He groans and blinks several times with his focus on his lap. He spots the dingy wooden floors, smells the moisture in the air that has nestled into the boards. He’s still in the cabin.
He tries moving his arms, but only jostles in the chair. If he moves anymore, he’ll tip over. He picks his head up and swallows a gasp when he spots his wife on the other side of the table.
Then it all comes back to him.
The way she walked around the corner with the gun.
The way she spoke to him, told him what she’d done to Shavonne and Brynn.
He looks at the object in front of her and it’s his gun.
Her elbows are on the table, the backs of her hands propped beneath her chin. He’d think he were in good hands, but she only stood there as he was attacked, and now she’s staring at him without a single emotion on her face. He can’t tell if she’s angry, sad, or happy even. There’s blood on her upper lip, crusty and dark. And her left eye is swollen shut.
“Jo,” Dominic breathes. “What the hell is going on?” His mouth is dry, and it’s like he’s talking with sandpaper in his mouth.
“Aren’t you going to ask what happened to my eye?” she inquires. She’s still not frowning or smiling.
“W-what happened to it?”
“You struck me,” she replies simply.
He frowns. “I didn’t lay a finger on you.”
“Sure, you did. Maybe not here, or today. But you have.”
He gulps and the saliva is rough going down.
“Jo, let me out of these cords. Right now.”
“No.” She finally drops her hands, and he tenses as she rests one of them on top of his gun. When she brings it up and points the barrel end at him, his heart picks up in speed. “Do you know how hard it is to be a good wife to you?”
He says nothing, just stares at her with paralyzing fear. He’s never seen Jolene like this. She’s always so soft and quiet, never hostile. He’s never seen her with a gun either, yet she holds his as if she’s had a lot of practice with one.
“Jo, whatever this is, we can talk about it, okay? I—I know I should’ve told you about Brynn, but baby . . . I did what I had to do so that I could get the position as governor.”
She tilts her head, lowering the gun just a bit and he sees his soft Jolene, the one with questions in her eyes. The one who loves him.
“Tell me everything,” she demands. “Right now.”
This time, he won’t hide a thing. He’ll tell her anything to lower her guard and get out of this situation.
“You know how I had a meeting with John Bolton in New Orleans a few years ago? Well, he’s close friends with Judge Reba Saxon, and Saxon had major pull in North Carolina back then. I almost didn’t win him over, Jo, but then Brynn came to wait our table while we were out for dinner. She was my waitress that day and John . . . he just went feral over her. Started licking his lips, asking how I knew her. He told me that if I could get him Brynn alone, that he’d talk to Saxon—tell her to endorse my campaign. And you saw what Saxon’s announcement did for me, Jo. It got me the governor’s seat!”
“So you coerced Brynn into all of this?” she asks and she stares at him like he’s the monster. But doesn’t she see? He did this for them.
“No . . . I . . . well, I left her my number, hoping she’d take the bait and she did. She called me that same night and we met up for drinks.”
“Met up for drinks where?” she demands.
“The Galveston Lounge, but that’s all it was, baby. It was just drinks.”
She shakes her head. “You didn’t text me back all night because you were with her?”
