The last exam had been taken, turned in, and graded. Tim and LeAnn sat side-by-side, gripping each other’s hands beneath the table, as their professor swept his gaze across the silent classroom. “Okay, I have the results of your final exam,” he told them, then paused dramatically. “Some of you are going to be happy. Others…not so much.”
Everyone laughed nervously while he walked around, handing back their finals. A smile curved his lips when he reached Tim and LeAnn. Then he moved on.
They each swallowed and took a deep breath, then opened the plain manila folders that held their futures. An instant later they were on their feet, hugging each other and laughing like crazed maniacs. The other students cast jealous looks or congratulatory smiles in their direction, but they never noticed. Eagerly they hurried out of the room, then hugged again in the hallway. Tim was so excited that he even picked her up and twirled her around several times.
“We did it!” she exclaimed, rolling her eyes in exuberant relief. “We’re done!”
“It seems like it took forever!” he agreed. “You ready for graduation?”
“Duh!” she laughed. “Hell, yes, I’m ready! And the whole family’s coming, even my cousin Bo, Mr. Assistant Special-Agent-in-Charge,” she mocked. “And Jeff, of course.”
That made his grin widen even more. “When does my number-one partner in crime come home?”
“He’s coming in the previous night, but really late. We’re going to pick him up at the airport,” she confided with a smile, “so you probably won’t see him until the graduation ceremony. But he’ll be here for two whole weeks, so you’ll have plenty of time after graduation. We’ll all go out to dinner and catch up. Crystal, too, of course,” she added…then silently cursed her stupidity. In an instant, his expression shifted from deliriously happy to utterly depressed.
Their marriage hadn’t improved over the past several weeks, she knew, despite his best efforts. He’d even bought her flowers and stopped by Joe’s club, but Crystal had hardly spared him a moment of her time. They were barely even roommates now, almost strangers to each other, and continuing to drift further apart.
His graduation would cause a serious change in their relationship, and LeAnn wanted to slap Crystal every time she thought about her. Stupid bitch! she thought for the millionth time. Stupid, selfish, immature bitch!
“I’m definitely in for dinner,” he said with a faint smile. “I’m not sure about Crystal, but I’ll ask her.”
“Is she coming to your graduation?” It should have been an unnecessary question, but she asked it anyway, and tried to keep her voice neutral. Better that than venting her true feelings, which ran more along the lines of, ‘Is the stupid, self-centered, bitchy, doesn’t-know-a-good-thing-when-she-has-it sorry-excuse-for-a-wife stripper-slut coming to your graduation?’
“Yes. She says she definitely wants to watch me graduate, and walk across the stage.”
She didn’t miss the fact that he’d qualified it with ‘she says,’ which seemed to sum up Crystal’s attitude nowadays. And he clearly had serious doubts of his own about whether she’d show up.
Raw anger flooded through LeAnn. If that bitch doesn’t show up for his graduation, I will personally kick her ass all the way to divorce court! Then I’ll take Tim, and treat him the way he deserves!
They walked to their cars in silence; then she hugged him again. He hugged her back, tighter than usual. “Thank you, LeAnn. I, um…well…I just need you,” he whispered.
“You’re welcome,” she murmured against his shoulder. “You’re not alone…I hope you know that.” Smiling, she reached up to kiss his cheek, then stepped back.
He looked like he wanted to say more, but finally just managed a wan smile and opened his car door. She knew he had to resolve the internal struggle himself; she couldn’t do it for him.
After he’d waved and driven away, she slid into her own car. She should have been ecstatic over passing her final exam, but seeing Tim in so much pain depressed her. The fact that she genuinely loved him made it worse.
She wanted to tell him so, but resisted. He didn’t need another woman in his life right now.
Besides, I don’t want a quick, cheap, sordid affair, she thought seriously. I want him forever.
Carlos stepped into the old industrial warehouse Chico maintained in the seedy area south of Austin. The men arrayed before him were dressed as field workers, immigrants who were effectively invisible throughout most of the southwestern U.S. They, and the women with them, wore serious expressions as they waited for their instructions.
“All of you leave tonight,” he said firmly. “Each of you has your assigned targets and backup targets. You’ll spend the next five days getting into position before you strike. Text me when you’re successful. Remember just to text me your team number, and which target has been eliminated.” He received nods of understanding from each person.
“I want you to stay mobile after you’re done, as I may send you to assist another team or to take the clubhouse. I’m going to be tracking the success of each team, so I will know if you are needed elsewhere. When we are finished, I will let you know, and you will make your own way back to Mexico. Use our safe houses, if necessary, but avoid traveling in groups. The last thing we need is Border Patrol involvement.
“Senior members first, no exceptions. The biker Rowdy and a woman named Raven are to be taken alive. Bring them back here, and God help you if they are killed.” He waited a moment to be sure his grim warning was understood. “¿Comprendé?”
Vigorous nods.
“The clubhouse will be last. It’s likely anyone we can’t locate will be there. I will notify those I want to take the clubhouse. We will destroy it entirely.” His smile widened. “Any questions?”
Silence. Everyone understood their assignments, and the importance of them. This was more than business; it was personal to Carlos and Chico. They had all been promised sizeable bonuses if they completed this mission. But they also understood that if they failed, they’d probably be killed.
Satisfied, he motioned to the door. “Go.” They swiftly obeyed.
When Isabel passed by him, he laid a hand on her shoulder to stop her. “Cuidado, Isabel.” Take care. She met his sober gaze and nodded, then followed her co-workers out the door.
He watched her vanish around the corner, feeling conflicted over her involvement, but firmly resolved to complete this assignment successfully. Confidently he walked into his office, and stared at the dry-erase board fastened to the longest wall. Every member of the Lone Star Blades, both patched members and Prospects, was written on the board.
“Soon,” he whispered. “Very soon.”
Tim walked into the trailer, and dropped his now-unneeded book bag on the floor just inside the door. The dozen roses he’d bought on Friday sat wilting in their vase on the kitchen table. They sat beside another dozen roses, bought the previous week, that were already dead. A nice visual reminder that, like the roses, his marriage was wilting and slowly dying.
Fucking thing is dead, or on life support. Crystal just doesn’t care anymore.
When he stepped into the kitchen, a light chemical smell made his nerves prickle. Quickly he checked the appliances and electrical cords to make sure they weren’t smoking or hot to the touch. Then he headed back into the bathroom, and the prickling became instant fury.
“Fuck me!” he snarled, spying the tinfoil square in the trash that had held her Meth. “Damn, Crystal!”
He found another glass pipe hidden under the sink, but no more actual drugs. The safe was completely empty. That figures, he thought. Meth costs money.
Other things were missing, too. Nothing valuable…a picture, a few high school knickknacks, things that held sentimental value.
Why would she take stuff that only holds value to us as a couple? Why not leave them with me? At least I give a shit about our marriage.
Sighing, he retrieved a beer from the fridge, then threw himself down on the couch. Four long years of studying were done. He’d officially walk the stage this Saturday…and he couldn’t care less.
He’d made it through by envisioning Crystal clapping and smiling as he accepted his diploma. He’d pictured her hugging him, and whispering her congratulations. He’d even selfishly hoped she’d be proud of him, and optimistic about their future.
I don’t even know if she’ll attend the ceremony. And if she does come, will she be high or sober?
His dreams had slowly, painfully evaporated, and been replaced by the slim hope that he’d still be married when he graduated. Now he wasn’t even sure if she’d bother to show up. She probably wouldn’t, he thought, tilting the beer back and draining half of it. He’d probably be served with divorce papers a day or two after the ceremony.
Congrats, Tim, he thought derisively, and raised his beer in a mocking toast. You killed yourself getting educated so you could do a better job of providing for your wife…and you’ll get divorce papers as a graduation present. Here’s to working hard, loving your wife dearly, and trying to improve yourself. Isn’t success just fucking grand?
He limited himself to just one beer since he was working the next morning, and fell asleep on the couch watching TV. It felt great not having to study for the first time in a long time, but that pleasure was tempered by realizing that he slept on the couch most nights now.
The couch was fine; the couch was comfortable. And it was easier for both of them. She wouldn’t disturb him coming home late…on those rare occasions she still came home…and he wouldn’t disturb her when he left for work. It worked out.
If his sleeping on the couch bothered her, she kept it to herself. She was completely indifferent to his presence in the bedroom. The pajama bottoms and long-sleeved top she wore now were a clear warning to keep his distance; the few times he’d snuggled up to her, she’d tensed up so much that they’d both felt awkward. He wasn’t willing to risk frostbite, so he’d rolled back to his side of the bed again, and stared at the ceiling for hours.
When he woke that morning, and quietly slipped through the bedroom door to change into clean clothes, his heart sank. She hadn’t come home again.
No text, no call, he thought bitterly after checking his phone for messages. No fucking future together!
Furiously he grabbed the wilting flowers and threw them into the trash, then threw the vases in after them. A hot shower didn’t calm his temper; it soared higher every time he wondered where she’d spent her night.
Why didn’t she text or call, or just come home?
You know why. She spent the night with someone else, and she was too busy fucking him to text you.
You don’t know that, he countered, hastily trying to erase that thought. You’re speculating. You could be wrong.
His emotions were too churned up for him to work effectively, so he called Rudy and requested the day off. It wasn’t a problem; his desk was clear, and tax season was behind them.
Restlessly he made breakfast, and tried to relax. He wanted to be there when Crystal got home.
Suddenly he swore, and grabbed his keys. She might not come back if she saw his car in the driveway. The thought hurt, but he suspected it was right on the money.
After parking down the street, he finished his breakfast, and sat down to watch TV. There really wasn’t much else for him to do. He started with the Food Network, then shifted to TNT.
It was almost noon when he finally heard Crystal’s car pull into the drive, and her door slammed. He shut off the TV, moved into the kitchen, and waited.
She was still dressed in her stage clothes when she walked unsteadily into the trailer. Her high heels dangled in one hand, and Tim couldn’t help noticing that her ass was just barely visible in the dress she wore.
She never used to wear her club clothing outside the club.
Her hair was a mess, and her makeup was smeared, especially her lipstick. Her voice was tired, but happy, as she spoke into the phone. “Yeah, I just walked in the door. I’m sorry. I was tired, it was a long night, and the club was busy. That’s why,” she said, and softly laughed. “I wouldn’t have been good company, anyway. I was exhausted. I almost fell asleep driving home. I stayed at the hotel, and fell asleep in my dress. I feel and look like shit.”
The response made her smile. Then she added, “Yes, I know. I wanted to, Jingles. I promise I will next time.” She laughed. “Whatever. Listen, I gotta pee. I’ll talk to you later…yes, you know I do.” Her voice dropped to a soft, seductive purr. “Bye.”
She laid her purse and phone on the end table, and dropped her shoes on the floor. Then she stretched and turned toward the kitchen…
“Tim!” she gasped, stopping abruptly. “What are you doing home?”
He just looked at her.
“I didn’t see your car in the driveway…is something wrong with it?”
She stepped toward him, but the hurt and anger reflected in his eyes stopped her. He stood rooted to the floor, unable to move, struggling with the phone call he’d just overheard. She studied him, trying to gauge what feelings he still had for her.
Finally she sighed, and wearily shook her head. “We need to talk,” she said quietly.
Suddenly he found his voice. “Now you want to talk? I’ve been buying you flowers and leaving you notes for weeks! You get caught sneaking back into our trailer, dressed like a streetwalker, and suddenly we need to talk? Who were you talking to, Crystal?”
She held onto her own temper with an effort. “First, I wasn’t sneaking back into the trailer, it’s my home,” she said coolly. “Second, thank you for the cards and flowers. I’ve loved them, even if I haven’t had the chance to thank you yet.” Then she wearily shook her head. “Let me change, and I’ll be right back.”
He grabbed a soda while he waited. He’d always hated arguing with Crystal, and he was starting to calm down…but he wasn’t quite there yet.
When she returned, wearing simple shorts and a t-shirt, she settled onto the couch and patted the cushion beside her. “Sit by me?” she smiled.
“No. I’ll stay here.”
“Please?”
“No.”
Rather than argue with him, she shrugged. “Okay, suit yourself.”
“Who were you talking to, Crystal?” he demanded.
“The club owner.” The barest ghost of a smile flitted across her lips. “He’s the guy you saw me with that night you visited his club.”
“The night the manager threatened me?”
“Yes. Although I spoke with Sherrod,” she quickly interjected, “and he’s okay if you visit. He’ll even apologize. He was out of line, and he knows it.”
Tim rolled his eyes in disbelief. “It’s been months, and you’re just now telling me this? Besides, you said you weren’t going to dance there anymore.”
“I make my own decisions about where I dance,” she said firmly. “It’s my body. Be honest, you don’t like to watch me dance anyway. Even when I was at Joe’s club, you rarely came to watch me…so what difference does it make?”
He couldn’t argue with that; he’d long-since lost the desire to see her snuggling up to other men.
“It wouldn’t be a good idea, anyway. I’m the only white dancer there; that’s why I make so much money. I can’t even remember the last time I saw a white customer in the crowd, so I don’t think you’d be comfortable watching me there…”
“Fine,” he said shortly. It irked him that she was right. “Where did you sleep last night?”
“The hotel,” she said indignantly. When he flashed her a skeptical look, she grabbed her purse and fished inside until she found a receipt. “Here,” she snapped and thrust it at him. “Asshole.”
He noted the current date, and heaved a silent sigh of relief. “Okay. Why didn’t you call or text?”
That made her blink in confusion. “I did!”
“No, you didn’t,” he retorted.
Baffled, she checked her phone, then shook her head. “I’m sorry. I did compose the text, but I never hit Send.” She passed it to him so he could see the draft’s timestamp. “I guess I was more tired than I realized.”
Now he was the one feeling sorry, and he managed a wan smile. “I guess I assumed the worst,” he apologized with a rueful shrug.
She retrieved her phone, and tucked it safely into her purse. “Next question,” she sighed.
“Meth,” he said immediately. “I found a glass pipe and tinfoil in our bathroom. You’re using again, aren’t you?”
“Yes…I thought you already knew that,” she admitted. “I use it occasionally to get through a tough shift. I wanted to use it last night, but I didn’t have any, and that’s partly why I nearly fell asleep while I was driving.”
It’s not a total lie, she thought quickly. He didn’t need to know she was using it every day now. He wouldn’t understand that she controlled the Meth. He’d insist that she stop, and she wasn’t ready to do that yet.
Tim had expected her to deny it, change the subject, or start a fight. “Will you stop?” he asked quietly. “Do you want to stop?”
“I’ve got it under control,” she said, and couldn’t hide her growing annoyance. “I only use it once in a while. What’s the big deal, really? People go to Happy Hour all the time. I only use Meth when I need it!” God, why doesn’t he understand? It’s my life!
“I guess that’s a no,” he muttered sourly. “We’re not talking about beer or wine, Crystal! Meth is pure poison, and it’s highly addictive!”
“I know all about Meth,” she snapped.
“Baby, this isn’t TV!”
“I know! Just drop it!” she insisted, and held up a hand. “You don’t understand. I’m in control! Just trust me!”
How could he? It was addictive poison that would eventually ruin her life! Why couldn’t she see that?
Finally he changed the subject. “I graduate this Saturday,” he said quietly.
“I remember,” she smiled. “Congratulations!”
“Thank you.” He eyed her soberly. “Are you coming to the ceremony?”
That made her blink in genuine surprise. “Of course! I’m proud of you, baby! I want to be there, and watch you walk across the stage!”
When she walked over to him and hugged him, he reluctantly hugged her back. He still had thousands of questions, and so many doubts that he didn’t know what to do with them all. He wanted answers; he wanted his wife back. More than anything, though, he wanted a fresh start with Crystal.
Slowly she led him back to their bedroom and undressed him. They slid under the covers and made soft, gentle love to each other. He felt tentative, almost like it was their first time again, and he wanted it to last forever. But so much time had passed since they’d made love that he couldn’t last nearly as long as he’d hoped. She didn’t seem to mind, and hugged him after they were done. He was just starting to hope that this was their fresh start when sleep dragged him under, and he dozed off.
Crystal slid out of bed, and headed for the bathroom. Their lovemaking had been awkward, fast, and worst of all, boring.
Sighing, she studied herself in the mirror. Is this my future? Married to a man who loves me, dotes on me, but bores me to death? How long before I lose respect for him?
Haven’t I already lost respect for him? Tim will make a great father and husband, but is that what I want now, especially since I’ve got Jingles?
Jingles. Just thinking his name made butterflies erupt in her stomach. Her body tingled all over, especially the part Tim hadn’t satisfied. Jingles always satisfied her sexually, and he satisfied her Meth cravings, too.
They’re my two favorite drugs, she thought with a wicked little grin.
She double-checked her body, and was relieved that he hadn’t left any bruises on her delicate skin. She’d asked him to be a little gentler lately; it wasn’t as much fun, but it saved her from answering Tim’s awkward questions.
I miss him. I miss waking up in his bed, and spending time in his condo. It’s so much nicer than this trailer.
They’d started seeing each other outside the club. She enjoyed going to movies and dinner with him. Her delivery money replaced tips on those nights, so Tim wouldn’t question why she’d left for work but come home empty-handed. But without fail, wherever they went, they ended up naked at Jingles’ condo, and screwed each others’ brains out.
Some nights she texted Tim that she was sleeping at the hotel; other times she set an alarm so she could arrive home before he woke. It was just pure luck that she really had stayed at the hotel last night, so she had a current receipt to show him.
Focus, she chided herself. You’ll see Jingles shortly. Tim—the guy who’s still your husband—is waiting for you.
She brushed her hair and teeth, then returned to the bedroom. Tim was awake again, and peppered her shoulder and neck with little kisses. “Sorry I dozed off. I’ve missed you,” he murmured, stroking her soft hair.
“I’ve missed you, too.”
“Will you spend the day with me?”
She blinked at him in surprise, then realized she should have expected it. “What did you have in mind?”
“I was thinking we could have lunch at the restaurant on the river, visit several of the local wineries, and then I’d take you to a nice dinner. Or we could do whatever you want,” he added quickly. “It doesn’t matter to me…I just want to spend some time with you.”
The hopeful adoration in his eyes melted her heart. She’d missed seeing that, she realized. Jingles’ eyes normally held desire and lust. She liked feeling wanted…but he’d never looked at her with anything like love. “Okay,” she agreed. “I need a shower, though, and I could use a snack.”
Tim tried to leap out of bed, but got tangled in the sheets, and sprawled on the floor. Crystal couldn’t help laughing. He saw the humor in it, too, and laughed with her as he struggled to his feet and got dressed. “I’ll fix you something,” he promised, and headed out to the kitchen.
Once he’d gone, she rolled over and closed her eyes. Her Meth craving was driving her crazy, and the thought of going without it for a full day made her nauseous. She wished she’d saved some and hidden it somewhere in the house; it would be perfect right now. He’d never know, and she’d have the energy she needed to get through the day.
I don’t need it to function, she assured herself. It just makes me better.
Tim’s whistling echoed down the long hallway. Sighing, she slid out of bed again, and headed for the shower. Her muscles relaxed under the steamy water. It wasn’t a substitute for Meth, but it did take the edge off her cravings.
A whole day without it, she thought as she basked under the hot spray. I can do it!
True to his word, Tim had a sandwich, some chips, and a sugary soda waiting for her. She smiled at him, and sat down to eat.
He changed his own clothes, then went down the street to fetch his car. The moment he was out the door, she grabbed her phone and texted Shane.
I can’t make any deliveries today. Tim took the day off, and we’re spending it together. Sorry for the short notice.
Then she sent a message to Jingles.
I can’t make it tonight, baby. My husband wants to spend the day together. Miss you terribly! See you soon. Pls be patient with me. Just a little longer and I’m yours.
When Tim returned a few minutes later, they decided to try the wineries first. Fredericksburg was in the heart of the Texas wine country; at least a dozen wineries were only minutes away. She let him drive, and they picked the first one at random. Smiling, she rested her hand in his as they drove.
Our marriage is over, but I want it to end well. Tim is so special, I want to let him down easy.
She looked down at their linked hands for a moment, remembering the first time he’d actually asked if he could hold her hand. She’d thought it was cute. He still held her hand carefully, intertwining their fingers and letting her hand rest on top of his.
Restlessly she stared out the windshield and tried to focus on Tim, but Jingles kept intruding into her thoughts. He didn’t hold her hand; it just wasn’t his style. He put his arm around her, or held out his elbow so she could hook her arm inside his. Always at his side…his woman, his eye candy, his trophy. She enjoyed it, but realized there wasn’t much emotion in it.
I’m not a prop, she thought angrily. Jingles just isn’t touchy-feely like Tim. He wouldn’t want to get serious with me if I was just a prop.
Time to focus on Tim, she decided when they arrived at the first winery, and shook her head.
He looked a little surprised when she hugged him tightly. “What was that for?”
“Just because,” she said brightly. “This was a great idea.”
Tim smiled at her as though he was seeing the fun for the first time. Then he kissed her gently, and led her into the winery.