Page 43 of Mail Order Bride

“What, like you’re some saint?”

“Far from it. But I don’t hit women.”

“No?” He does a double-take. “Well, some of them deserve it. Layla, she had always wanted that from me, but never got it because I didn't want things to get too rough. I didn’t want things to go too far.”

“It fucking looks like things went too far, Ray.”

“Yeah,” he says nonchalantly. “That's exactly what happened. You wanna know why? This bitch thought she had the upper hand on me by extorting me. Blackmail, Joel. She threatened to have me arrested.”

“So you killed her…”

“You’d think she knew who she was dealing with. But no. She said she was going to have me put away. Foolish woman; I told her she'd regret those words later on in life when she was older and wiser and the wrinkles were setting in. But now they never will, will they? Because, okay, yeah, things went too far. But it was an accident, I swear.”

“So—what? You’re waiting around here for me to come clean up your mess?”

“Nah. That’s not it at all. I thought it might be a setup. I didn't want anyone else to know.”

I press the muzzle to his cheek. Hard. “You have people to clean this up, Ray. Why me?”

“Because you're the best,” he says. “And because she was asking for you at the end. It seemed like the right thing to do.”

“Bullshit.”

“It's the truth, I swear it.” He tries to scoot away. He tries to loosen the hold I have on him. It doesn’t quite pan out like he thinks it will. “I get some reputation as a lady killer… and man, you know those guys at the top... They'll finally have something on me. Something they can use.”

“I doubt that's the only dirt they have.” I elbow him in the face. His nose makes a loud popping sound, almost a crunch-like sound, but not quite. “Now, tell me the fucking truth.”

“That is the truth,” he says, attempting to stop the blood that is gushing from his nose. He only makes things worse, smearing it all over his face. “I swear it.”

I suck my bottom lip through my teeth and shake my head. “I see.”

“Joel…” His eyes widen.

“What made you think you could trust me?”

He shrugs. “Who else is there?”

He looks up at me, and as he waits for an answer, I pull the trigger. I watch the round of lead sail through his head and then drop through the mattress, but I don’t feel the satisfaction I thought I would. I don’t feel anything.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Gina

Afew weeks ago, a letter arrived in the mail. The envelope was plain, but the type was neat, the words flowing over the page like a river. The letters were explicit, filled with graphic detail that left me hot and bothered. Soon after, I met Joel at the Franklin Chamber of Commerce dance. It all started with a letter. Then more letters.

I asked Joel somewhere between Tennessee and Texas if he’d been the one to write the letters I kept under my mattress, letters that are now tucked neatly in my suitcase. “Which letters?” he said.

“They’re so erotic,” I said, massaging his thigh. “I can’t get enough of them.”

“Oh,” he told me with a closed smile. “Those.”

He looked like he didn’t want to discuss the matter any further, but we were waiting for Daddy to come back from the men’s room at any moment, so it’s not like we had a lot of privacy or time. Plus, he was a little annoyed that we had to stop again. “You wrote them, right?”

Joel was staring out the driver’s side window at this point. “What?” he asked when I nudged his shoulder.

“The letters?”

“Oh, right.” He looked over at me and nodded. “Yeah, of course.”