Read Southern Comfort Online

Authors: Ciana Stone

Southern Comfort (2 page)

BOOK: Southern Comfort
8.95Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Chapter Two

 

Analise was just coming in from taking her ruined clothes to the outside trash when her phone chimed. She rushed to get it from the charging stand on the kitchen counter.

It was Riley.

Not to laugh at your expense, but that did give me a chuckle. Mineral spirits should take that right off.

Analise smiled. Her online friend, Riley, was a woodworker as well as a rancher and musician. She'd found an unfinished chest online and wanted to finish it herself, to store mementos in, things that had no value other than sentimental.

She'd asked him for advice on how to do it, and had followed his instructions step-by-step. The only problem she had was that she'd started with two rags and somewhere along the way had ended up sitting on one that was soaked with stain.

Which meant that her thin cotton pants ended up stuck to her. The pants and her rear end were coated with a nice warm red chestnut stain. She'd managed to peel the pants off, but had stain in places that were never meant for it.

Analise had thrown on an old pair of her husband's sweat pants long enough to take the ruined clothes to the outside trash can. Thank god Riley had responded to her text or she'd have been thinking about soaking her butt in turpentine.

Thanks.
She typed.
I was about to head for the turpentine. I did buy a big jug of mineral spirits, like you suggested. Good thing I didn't opt for the small size.

So stained lady parts aside, how did the chest turn out?

She smiled. 
Really good. Tomorrow I will put that tung oil stuff on it.

Analise put her phone down and opened the refrigerator. She hadn't eaten all day and was suddenly starving. She looked at the phone on the counter when it chimed.

You might need more than one coat. Let it dry for a day before putting on the second one. And don't forget to buff it after the first coat.

She gave the contents of the refrigerator a glance, frowned and closed it.
I will. How'd your day go?  Get that fence finished?

Yes ma'am. Sure did.

Another smile crossed her face. Even in text, Riley sounded Texan. She wondered, not for the first time, what his voice would sound like. She might have already had that answer had they not agreed to keep the communication limited to messages.

Maybe it was better that way. She could imagine his voice to sound just as she wanted. Just as she could imagine him looking like her perfect fantasy image of a rancher. God, he'd never speak to her if he knew all of the fantasies she'd cooked up about him during the lonely nights. The smile faded as the house phone rang. She checked the caller ID. It was her husband. This couldn't be good.

Gotta clean up and fix dinner. Have a good night, Riley.

You too.

Analise leaned back against the kitchen counter. She could either return her husband's call or get clean.

Getting clean won.

It took four rags and a quarter of the bottle of mineral spirits to get all of the stain off, but she finally managed, showered and dressed in a pair of loose gauze cotton pants and an old, oversized t-shirt.

When she returned to the kitchen with the rags secured in a plastic bag, her husband, Rodrick Becke, stood at the center island, a bottle of Scotch on the island and a half-full glass beside it.

"What are you doing here?" She stopped cold, clutching the plastic bag.

"Where's my money?"

"Pardon?" She tried to cover her surprise and the little spike of fear that question generated. An idea occurred to her and she quickly went to the kitchen counter where her phone lay. After picking it up, she accessed the record function and then shoved the phone in the pocket of her pants.

"Don't play dumb. I know you cleaned out half the balance of the Seychelles account and the Belize account is also down fifty percent."

"Oh that." Analise had recovered from the surprise of seeing him standing in the kitchen. "I only took my half."

"Your half?" His shout had her wincing, a fact that annoyed her. She was sick and tired of being afraid, of being lied to, used and treated like a dimwit.

"Yes, my half."

"You don't have a fucking half."

"I do now." She marched around him and through the kitchen to the laundry room. From there, she stepped out into the garage and crammed the plastic bag into the large trash can.

When she turned back toward the house he was blocking the door. "I want my money, Analise."

"It's not your money, Rick."

"The fuck it's not."

"Get out of my way."

"Or what?"

The threatening tone of his voice gave her pause. Would Rick physically hurt her?  He'd always been one to fly off the handle, shout, stomp around and even destroy things, but he'd never raised a hand to her.

"Get out of my way."

"Give me my money or you'll be sorry."

"Oh I'm already sorry. Sorry I didn't see what was going on under my nose the last five years. Sorry I didn't realize you and your whole family were a bunch of crooks. Sorry I wasted twenty-five years of my life with a man who has no regard for anyone other than himself. But you know what?  I'm tired of being sorry and scared that I'm going to displease you by saying the wrong thing, wearing something you don't like or having friends you don't think meet your social standing. I'm tired of everything about my life and I'm keeping that damn money and starting a new one.

"One that doesn't include you."

"You walk and you'll never see your son again."

Analise pushed past him and returned to the kitchen. "Oh please. David is twenty-two years old and news flash, finished moving to Cambridge two days ago."

"You move and I'll stop payment on his tuition and his apartment."

"Go ahead. That money I took was put into an account in his name. An account you can't touch. His education is paid for and with what he'll have left when he graduates, he will be fine."

"That's my money!"

"Not anymore. Oh, and while we're at it,  I transferred all of the money from our two savings accounts here along with the checking account into an account of my own. I figure that's a fair distribution. You take the house and whatever else we own and I take that."

"You fucking bitch."

"Call me what you want, but like I said, I only took half. Actually less than half. You've still got plenty in your offshore accounts, and if the allegations against you and your family's company are true, there's millions hidden somewhere – millions you stole from your clients. So, unless they throw your sorry ass in prison, you and your mistress should be able to live high on the hog  In fact, you can do it here just as soon as I leave."

"Leave?  Where the hell do you think you're going?"

"None of your damn business. Now get out. I'm finished talking to you."

"This isn't over."

"Oh yeah, it is."

"I'll burn this fucking house to the ground and you in it."

"Oh?" She turned to him with a smile, holding her phone. "Well, we'll see about that."

"What the fuck are you doing?"

She quickly messaged the recording to her attorney and also to her best girlfriend, Katie. "Making sure it's on record just in case anything unfortunate happens to me or this house."

Rick snatched up the glass from the center island and hurled it at her. Analise ducked and the glass smashed into a cabinet, shattering all over the counter top and floor. What the hell?  He'd always had a short fuse but this was getting out of hand. And it was scaring her a little. Not that she was going to let him know that so she bolstered her courage and spoke slowly and with as much menace as she could muster.

"Get out or I'm calling the police."

He slung the bottle of Scotch at her and shouted. "You're a fucking bitch. I don't know why I didn't divorce you years ago."

That tore it. She'd ducked the bottle when it bounced off the cabinet door behind her, hit the counter with a crack and then exploded on the tile floor.

"I wish you had. Now get out!"

He gave her a glaring look " You might think you've won, but trust me, you haven't. I'll get even with you, you bitch. When you least expect it. You can take that to the fucking bank."

He then stomped out of the room, tossing one final snipe over his shoulder. "Fuck you."

"Not ever again." She muttered to his back.

A few seconds later she heard the front door slam. She hurried to it to insure it was locked and leaned back against it. She and Rick had been through a few arguments over the years, and while he wasn't above throwing a fit, stomping about and shouting, he'd never been this bad. Whatever was going on in his life, it must be really bad. That thought prompted her to do a quick Google search on her phone. Within seconds she'd found what she wanted and placed a call.

"Hi?  Bob's Lock and Key?  Is there any chance I could get you out here this evening to change the locks in my house?  Someone stole a set of keys and I really would feel more secure if the locks were changed. Oh, okay, yes, I understand. That will be fine. Yes, see you soon."

She wasn't thrilled to pay twice the going rate to get the locks changed but she would feel better knowing that Rick couldn't get in if he decided to come back.

As she busied herself cleaning up the broken glass and liquor, she thought about what a mess her life had become. It was time to start over. David was settled in Cambridge and she'd discussed her plans with him.

He'd encouraged her to do what made her happy. They'd see one another during his breaks and at holidays. He thought it was past time for her to start living for herself instead of in his father's shadow.

Well, that's exactly what she was going to do. Tomorrow she had an appointment to look at a small RV. She had no idea where she wanted to live, but was quite certain it was far, far away from Rick. And she'd always wanted to travel around, see different parts of the country.

Maybe she'd even get an idea for a new book. Her last one had not broken any sales records, but she was finally starting to earn a decent amount each month from her writing. Who knows, maybe she'd even make it down to Texas and meet Riley in person.

Or not. One thing her life had taught her was that fantasy was almost always better than reality. Right now, Riley was a bit of a fantasy. He was kind and had a good sense of humor and she imagined him as a tall, lanky cowboy with that low center of gravity glide of a walk and a smile that would light up any room he entered.

Chances were, the real Riley would never measure up to her fantasy version.

Her phone rang and she hurried to check the caller ID. "Katie, hi. What's up?"

"OMG, girl why are you not on the phone with the police this very minute?  I was going to call them myself if you didn't answer. What an asshole!"

"I'm taking that to mean you listened to the recording I sent you."

"Well, duh!  Analise, you've got to get away from that man. I'm serious, honey."

"I know and I am. I promise."

"Okay, OMG, I just remembered! Girl, you
have
to come to San Antonio in September."

"I do?  Why?"

"There's going to be a convention here. I'll send you the link. Lots of great writers and readers. It's only three days but sounds like it will be a blast."

"September?  I don't know. I'll think about it. Depends on…well, you know."

"Yeah, I hear ya. When you think you'll be leaving?"

"Soon. I'm going to look at that RV in the morning."

"Analise, have you ever driven an RV?"

"No."

"And you do know how big they are, right?"

"Yes, but I told you, this one is small. You don't have to have a special license. Just perfect for one person."

"Yeah, and you really think you'll be happy out there on the road, all by yourself, staying in campgrounds?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

"No room service."

"I
can
cook, Katie."

"Yeah, so can I but it doesn't mean I like to. And I worry about you being on the road alone."

"I know and I appreciate that but I really want to do this. I need to do it. I've never been on my own, Katie and I want to – I don't know, I want to do something completely unconventional for once."

"Like come to Texas for the convention and see your bestie?"

Analise laughed. "Yeah, something exactly like that. Tell you what, send me the link and I'll check it out. Right now, I've got to find something to eat, I'm starving."

"Okay, hon. Will do. Call me after you see the RV."

"I will. Love you."

"Love you, too."

Analise ended the call and leaned back against the counter with a smile. Leave it to Katie to lift her spirits and present an opportunity. She could take her time on her trip and if she timed it right, she could stop in and spend a couple of days with Katie and then hit the convention.

BOOK: Southern Comfort
8.95Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

A Perfect Marriage by Bright, Laurey
Cryptic Cravings by Ellen Schreiber
Sea Creatures by Susanna Daniel
Token of Darkness by Amelia Atwater-Rhodes
For Love Alone by Christina Stead