Her Only Salvation (5 page)

Eyes darting frantically across the sea of dancers, Terri honed in on a set of familiar wide shoulders set against a tall frame and a head of pale blonde hair cut short in an almost military fashion, exiting the club. It had to be Randy, she thought, but he was gone from view so quickly, she couldn’t be sure.

Except that she would know him anywhere.

With shaking hands, Terri replaced the phone on its station, and without saying where she was going, walked mindlessly down the narrow passage leading to the locker rooms. She needed to be alone. She couldn’t think. Her mind was too clouded with visions of her murder, of Randy strangling the life out of her once and for all.

With panic setting in, Terri burst through the locker room doors and ran for the washroom where she proceeded to vomit her dinner into the toilet.

Luke found her soon thereafter, worry and annoyance warring for dominance on his broad face.

“The girls are wondering where you disappeared to,” he informed her, crossing his arms over his chest as if she were a child in need of reprimand. “You know you can’t just take off without telling someone where you’re going.”

“I know,” Terri muttered, keeping her head low. She lacked the strength to hold it up, too weakened from the turmoil eating at her insides to do much else than sit there and ponder her fate. “I’m sorry. Tell them I’m sorry.”

Luke was suddenly sitting beside her. She hadn’t even heard him move.

Lifting her chin, he narrowed his deeply blue eyes on her and tilted his head. “Are you sick or something?”

“I’m fine,” she managed, trying to find some strength to lie effectively and failing miserably.

Tucking a chunk of hair that had escaped her ponytail behind her ear, he shook his head. “Talk to me, Terri. I know everything isn’t fine. I know there is something going on with you, and I want to know what it is.”

“It’s nothing,” she insisted, forcing herself to meet his gaze.

Dropping his hand, Luke’s expression changed from soft and understanding to a mix of anger and annoyance like a switch had been thrown.

“That’s bull and we both know it. Now this…whatever this is,” he waved a hand through the air encompassing her, “is starting to affect your performance here. This is a business, Terri, and if you want me to be understanding, then you’re going to have to level with me.”

Terri narrowed her eyes on him. “Are you saying you’ll fire me if I don’t confide in you?”

Luke sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “No, I’m not going to fire you, Terri. I just need you to help me understand. I can’t help you if you don’t.”

The pained expression he turned on her, one of utter defeat, somehow compelled Terri to open her mouth and admit this one person into her shrunken world.

“My husband,” she began, and swallowed hard to tamp down the tremor in her voice, “he’s been released from prison.”

Luke looked at her in a way that told her he was trying to be sympathetic but still didn’t grasp the gravity of the situation. 

She went on. “He was here tonight, and I think he was here last night too.” She grimaced, knowing in her heart of hearts that what she was about to say next was the truth. “I think he was the one who hit that boy in the parking lot.”

Luke’s eyes widened, understanding mixed with equal parts anger and worry twisting through them until the blue seemed to swirl with his anger.

“I’ll kill that asshole,” he seethed, his fingers curling to form tight fists against the bench they sat on.

Terri shook her head. “You can’t. They would lock you up, and then who would watch out for me?”

She didn’t want Luke to get himself into trouble. It was obvious he was a fighter, willing to go up to bat for any cause he deemed worthy, but she didn’t want to see him get caught up in the drama of her life. Not if she could help it.

She hadn’t meant to, but she started to shake a little, almost as if the cold outside hadn’t fully left her.

Seeing this, Luke wrapped her in his arms and squeezed her to him. “Hush,” he murmured. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Promise?” she asked, then sniffed back the start of a runny nose. Had she started crying too? Jesus, she really was a mess.

“Promise. It will be a cold day in hell before I let that creep get anywhere close to you again.” He petted her hair absently. “Don’t you worry about a thing, I’ll work something out.”

Closing her eyes, she leaned into his embrace. For the second time in her life, Terri decided to put her trust into a man. This time, she only hoped she wouldn’t get burned.

Chapter Five

Static filled the room of the 70s inspired motel room, creating the perfect backdrop to Randy’s life: dull, chaotic and intolerable. It lulled him into a false sense of security, a companion to keep watch over him while he slept. He had learned the necessity of relying on another person while you were at your most vulnerable the hard way, and old habits were hard to break.

He was having a nightmare, transported back to the confines of a small cell, surrounded by hardened criminals and fearing for both his life and his sanity. Despite the state’s proud declaration that this was a state of the art facility, there was nothing artful about it. Bars were bars, criminals were criminals. The food was bad, the security worse, and you couldn’t get privacy unless you killed someone and got sent to solitary.

Fingers gripped the sheets, mimicking his attempt to pry loose his bars and free himself. Feet scissored beneath the blankets, mirroring Randy’s attempts to flee his attacker. An entire year of this and Randy was nearly crawling out of his skin. His days may have been filled with thoughts of survival, but his nights were reserved for something else entirely: payback.

The slamming of a car door jolted Randy out of his sleep, but hung over as he was, he couldn’t bring himself to move without a knife being driven through his skull. He lay there, staring at the dingy ceiling, watching the fan blades rotate lazily overhead. Tiny pale dust particles drifted through the air, caught in a beam of sunlight that sliced the room in half. An odor of onions and sweat permeated the air mixing with a distinct note of decay.

The motel was a hovel built before Randy was even a blip on the radar, and it showed in the tattered orange carpeting, the harvest gold patterned curtains and the olive green woven blankets crumpled on the bed. How the place still managed to do business would have been a mystery to him had he not witnessed the steady traffic of prostitutes and dealers slinking around the property day and night. Located just off the highway, it was a hot spot for less than honest business dealings.

Scratching his fingers through his hair, Randy managed to pull himself up to sitting. He was still a little out of sorts, not fully awake yet and maybe a slight bit in denial about where he stood in life at the moment. So when he called out, “Terri! Get me a beer!” and was met with silence, he wanted to run his fist through the wall.

So he did.

Plaster rained down, coating everything around it in a fine layer of powder. And wasn’t that genius. His head pounded in protest of the sudden movement and the spike of anger, and Randy decided to ram another hole in the wall, because it felt good to let off a little steam.

Only two things could make him feel better right now, and since Terri wasn’t available, he would need a drink to chase away the pulsing pain filling his head and clogging his thought process.

Beer bottles littered every surface of the room. Clusters congregated on top of the ancient console TV, on the fold-out tray beside the bed, and on the floor. Three empty cases sat at the foot of the recliner. He needed to go for a beer run, but he would have to take the itch off now if he hoped to be functional behind the wheel.

The last thing Randy needed was to get the attention of the cops.

Picking up bottles, Randy gave each one a shake. Gathering the few that sloshed, he downed the last of their stale contents and licked his lips with a grimace. Warm and flat had never been his style.

“How the mighty have fallen,” he muttered, tossing the last bottle back on the floor. The green glass shattered, the shards bouncing and finally settling where they glittered cheerily in the muted amber light.

Brilliant. Now he would have to wear shoes twenty-four seven because it wasn’t like a place this classy provided maid service.

Thankfully, there was a liquor store not more than a block away, and Randy had just enough cash left in his wallet to purchase a bottle of Jack.

***

After drinking half the bottle of newly acquired whiskey, he showered then settled into the easy chair to take in a little mindless programming and begin plotting his next course of action.

It had been a few days since he had called Terri at the club. Despite her heightened fear and overly cautious behavior, he had managed to follow her home unnoticed that night.

He was still a little ticked that she had sold their house. He had worked hard for it, after all. Obviously she hadn’t appreciated his efforts if she would just go and sell it the minute he was out of the picture. He wondered what she did with the money from the sale. Women liked to shop, he knew that much, so she probably blew it all on dresses and shoes.

Judging by the house she lived in now, she must have put a small portion of the profit there, as well, but not a lot. It was too small and plain to have cost much.

For just a moment Randy entertained the idea that she might have saved the money, maybe waiting for him to come home, but he squashed that line of thinking immediately. If she had been waiting she would have welcomed him back by now, instead of forcing him to rot away in this dump.

Whatever. He wasn’t worried about whether she was or wasn’t glad he was back. He needed to concentrate on the reunion. And there was going to be a reunion. He just needed to get his head on straight and set a few goals. Finding where she lived had been the first, so he could check that off his to-do list. He had already made contact but that wouldn’t be enough. Tonight he planned to do it again; he just needed to lock down how to go about it. Terri had already gotten her panties into a bunch just from one little phone call, so he knew coming at her too much too fast would be more trouble than it was worth. He couldn’t exactly beat her into submission, not right away anyway. Although he did enjoy seeing her get all riled up.

Nothing tugged at a man’s heartstrings like a pair of mascara-smeared eyes.

No, he wouldn’t use force just yet. Some things in life required finesse, and Randy was a smooth operator when he wanted to be. Romance wasn’t exactly his shtick, but he would manage. Maybe buy her something sparkly, take her to dinner, for a walk around the neighborhood. Show her how it used to be, and how it could be again.

Of course, if Terri decided to be stubborn, she would force his hand. Randy wasn’t the kind of man to take no for an answer, and when it came to his wife, no was like a cold, hard slap in the face. He would allow her some time to get reacquainted with the idea of him being around again, but anything beyond that, and he would have to remind her of who she was dealing with.

Women needed to be put in their place. Too far over the line one way or the other, and things could get out of control fast. She was lucky he put up with her insubordination. Getting him locked up, that was an offense that couldn’t go unpunished, but he was cutting her some slack. People had been killed for less.

Because of her thoughtlessness, he had spent the last year in a jail cell, his freedom snatched away in the blink of an eye. Now he was homeless, wifeless, and penniless. Her actions had cost him everything. Oh yes, she would pay for her role in all of this, and he would start with reclaiming what was rightfully his, starting with that pretty little house. She thought to divorce him, but she would soon realize that not only was that never going to happen, but everything that was hers was also his. They were still married, after all.

***

The lighter went on with a
shhhtck,
and Randy brought it to the cigarette. Taking a long draw, he let the smoke fill his lungs and breathed it back out slowly. The inside of the truck cab was growing colder the longer he sat in front of the house. Glancing down at his watch, he realized that Terri would be getting off in a few short hours. That meant he didn’t have much time to work with.

Tucking the keys in his jacket pocket, Randy popped the door open and stepped down from the truck. The block was dark, save the dull glow of lamplight from the neighboring homes. Looking both ways, he jogged across the street and up the short drive until the freshly trimmed bushes lining the foundation provided him an effective cover.

For the past few days he had spent his time following Terri, learning her habits. Since she came in late each night, she started each afternoon with a run, always careful to keep an eye on her surroundings, though she never saw him. The rest of the afternoon was spent inside cleaning or watching TV. Once she had ventured to the grocery store, sticking to the main roads, stopping at all the red lights and stop signs.

Never was much of a risk taker, he mused, puffing on his cigarette.

Smoke curled from his nostrils as he peered inside. Tidy kitchen as always. He made his way around back, peeking inside at all the furniture. So she had kept the lot of it, after all. Maybe the little minx should be rewarded…

By the time the sun started setting, Terri’s familiar white Ford would back down the drive and head in the direction of the club. Randy had spent each of those days and nights tracking her every move, learning the paths she took. She never deviated.

Tonight, he stayed behind. It was time to step up his game.

There was a low deck tacked onto the back of the house, a sliding glass door the only thing that separated outside from in. Pulling out his pocket knife, Randy slipped the blade between the doors and set to work prying the lock.

There was only one thing that stuck in his craw about the whole deal. Of all the nights he had tailed her, at the end of every one of them an expensive black car would slide up behind hers, wait until she got out of the car, waved goodbye and the garage door shut securely, before shooting down the street and out of sight. No one ever got out, but Randy had seen that same car in the parking lot of
Sunset Black
and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to know that behind all that sleek muscle was another man.

The little bitch was stepping out on him.

Instantly enraged by the very thought, Randy wrenched the knife sideways, breaking the blade off in the door. He cursed blackly, kicked the bottom of the door, and strode in circles, digging his fingers into his hair as his mind worked overtime to both calm down and come up with a new plan.

He had to get inside. It was essential that he know everything, the routes she took, her schedule, and the lay of the land.

The silver moon glowed overhead, mocking him. Somewhere in the trees and owl hooted its laughter at his failure. “Best laid plans,” he muttered to himself, pacing the deck, his brows drawn low as he thought hard.

“Fuck it,” he growled. Storming back to the glass doors, Randy gripped the recessed handles and put everything he had into them. Using his bodyweight, he shoved repeatedly, rocking the doors on their tracks, until, finally, the flimsy metal lock inside gave way and the panel glided open.

Satisfaction rolling through him, he stepped inside and gave himself a tour of his new home.

It was neat as a pin. The floors polished, the countertops gleaming. The smell of lemons hung in the air. As he moved into the living room he got an eyeful of the expensive furniture they had purchased early in their marriage, right down to the woven rug lying beneath the glass top coffee table.

The bathroom was out of date, linoleum covered floors, brass light fixtures over a frameless mirror. Nothing noteworthy. Opening the door to what must have been a guest bedroom; he saw more of the same. Too much furniture crammed into too tight a space. Closing the door behind him, he turned and stepped immediately into Terri’s room. She had kept their bedroom outfit, too, he noted smugly.

Sliding the bifold closet doors open, he scanned the clothes hanging on the bar, everything evenly spaced and organized according to color and season. Two pairs of tennis shoes rested on the floor beside a pair of black pumps and bright red heels that screamed trash. Shaking his head in disgust, Randy closed the closet and moved to the dresser.

The first drawer was reserved for socks. The second and third for pair after pair of lacy underwear and bras, all part of a set he noted with curiosity. Terri had never been one for fashion or one to worry whether her undergarments complemented each other. Either she had developed an addiction to lingerie, or his suspicions about another guy were true.

The evidence was pretty damning.

Reaching inside, Randy sifted through the silky scraps of material, searching for something, anything that might shed some light on this new side of Terri he had discovered, but he came up empty handed.

It was obvious to him that she was up to something, though.

Headlights whipped across the room, casting slashes of bright light across the walls and ceiling. His eyes cut to the clock on the table. Somehow he had lost two hours. His heart slammed in his chest, a warning that it was time to leave, but he ignored it, sliding up to the window’s edge and looking out. The street was dark, but the porch light illuminated the driveway.

Terri’s car was just pulling up the drive. Pausing, he watched as she waited for the garage door to rise, then drove inside. Where was—oh yes, there it was. On cue, the black car rolled up, but instead of stopping at the curb, it pulled right into the driveway.