Paint It Black (11 page)

“You’re welcome. I guess I should be getting to the hospital anyway. Talk to you tomorrow. And see
you
later, brat.”

Abby waved, and I hurried her along to the car.

She fell asleep in no time. I sighed, thinking of how grouchy she’d be when I woke her to give her a bath.

A few minutes later, I pulled into the garage and went around to get her out. A light winked on, and Grady opened the back door. I didn’t know what to expect when he started toward us.

“Here.” He took her from my arms. “I’ve got her.”

He carried her up the steps. I took it as a good sign
when he didn’t stagger. Maybe there was hope for a calm discussion yet. I didn’t smell liquor on him.

“Hey, baby,” he said, when she stirred in his arms. “You’re wet.” He glanced at me. “You’re wet, too. Where have you been, besides Fat Daddy’s?”

I was about to ask him how he knew that when I realized I was still wearing the pink lei.

Abby blinked up at him and yawned. “We had a snowball fight, Daddy. It was so cool. Cougar hit me, but I got him back.”

Grady looked at me again with narrowed eyes. “Cougar? You’ve been with Cougar?”

I shrugged off my coat. “I had to go by the office. We ran into him.”

“We beat Mama playing foosball,” Abby said, and I did a mental wince.

Grady stood Abby on the kitchen floor. The muscle in his jaw twitched, and his hands balled into fists at his side. “So you had dinner with him, too?”

“Don’t even start,” I said, and patted Abby’s behind. “Get upstairs, honey. Mama will be up in a minute to help you with your bath.”

She nodded and kissed us both before moping up the stairs. I could almost see the tension rolling off Grady’s back before he turned to face me.

“So I read it wrong?” He cocked his head. “It’s not the vegetable, then. All this time, you’ve been sleeping
around with Cougar.”

I threw my keys on the kitchen counter. “Don’t be stupid, and don’t try to make this about me. You’ve got a problem, Grady.”

He laughed. “Damn straight, I’ve got a problem. It’s you. It’s always been you. Sometimes I wonder what my life would’ve been like if I’d never met you.”

“Oh, so you wonder that, too,” I said, and shouldered past him. He grabbed my arm and spun me around.

“Don’t walk away from me.” Before I could react, he seized the pink lei around my neck and twisted his fist around it. He steamrolled me backward and slammed me into the wall hard enough to knock the air from my lungs.

CHAPTER
7

I
nexplicably, he kissed me, even as he tightened the cord around my throat. His tongue invaded my mouth as I fought for my next breath.

I balled my hand into a fist and swung. The blow landed solid on the side of the head. He staggered, loosening his grip, but he didn’t let go. He pressed his shoulder into me to block my arm. “What’s the matter? Are my kisses not as good as Cougar’s? In what other areas am I lacking?”

Spots danced before my eyes, and self-preservation took over. I rammed my knee as hard as I could into his groin.

Grady screamed and fell to the floor, curling into a fetal position. I stood over him, gasping for breath and massaging my burning neck.

“Mama!”

I glanced up to see Abby standing at the top of the stairs. Grady scuttled back and leaned against the wall.

“Get in your room,” I said. “I’m coming.”

“But, Daddy—”

“Daddy’s fine,” Grady rasped. “I just fell.”

“Abby, go!” I said in my don’t-mess-with-Mom voice.

She turned and ran back to her room.

“Necie—” Grady said, and I whirled.

Angry tears stung my eyes. I pointed at him. “Stay the fuck away from me.”

Without waiting on a reply, I ran upstairs to check on my daughter.

I paused outside Abby’s bedroom door, trying to compose my face into some mask of neutrality, but inside I raged. How dare he treat me that way? He wasn’t even drunk!

I plastered on a smile and twisted the knob. Abby had stripped to her underpants. She stood at the foot of her bed, gazing at me with huge, sad eyes. My smile faltered, and I hurried across the room to take her in my arms. As I held her small, warm body close, I knew that something had to give. Things between her father and I had grown steadily worse. I couldn’t live like this. I couldn’t let her live like this.

“Is Daddy okay?” she asked in a small, quiet voice.

“Yeah, baby. He’s okay. Let’s get you in the tub.”

She moved toward the adjoining bathroom. I glanced at her bedroom door, then doubled back to lock it behind us. I felt a little annoyed with myself for the apprehension I felt, but I could no longer predict what Grady might do.

After shampooing Abby’s hair, I left her to do the rest herself. I thought about packing our clothes and leaving, but where was I supposed to go, a motel? Besides, why should I be the one to leave? Let Grady go home to his mother. She’d welcome him with open arms.

I pressed my ear to her bedroom door, but heard nothing in the hall beyond. I eased open the door and peered into the hallway. No Grady jumping from the shadows. Feeling stupid, I hurried down the hall to our bedroom.

He probably was sitting in some bar somewhere.

My heart thudded while I snatched some clothes from my dresser and closet. This was how far we’d come. I couldn’t believe I actually feared Grady, but here I was, worrying about the gun in my purse downstairs.

Back in Abby’s room, I locked her door behind me again and sat on her bed until she came out of the bathroom. I thought about telling her not to open the door if Grady knocked, but how could I tell her that?

I popped in one of her favorite movies and kissed her cheek.

“Hey, babe. I’m going to take a shower and then I’ll come watch with you, okay?”

She nodded, and made no comment when I picked up my shirt and shorts and headed to her bathroom. I washed myself with bubblegum-scented soap and thought about my next move. Tomorrow, after I took Abby to school, I’d tell Grady to pack his things. Tomorrow I’d tell him I wanted a divorce.

A divorce.

I stood under the pulsing hot spray and wondered why the thought didn’t upset me as it once had. I wanted to care. I wanted to feel something, but it was like I was hollow inside. Dead. My only concern was how to explain it to Abby. Whatever Grady and I did or said to each other, I didn’t want her caught in the cross fire.

I toweled my hair dry and dressed, then joined Abby beneath her Strawberry Shortcake comforter. She scooted over to make room for me, and I saw the questions in her eyes, but still she made no comment. I set the clock and cut off the television and lights. She was asleep in minutes, but rest proved more elusive for me.

The next morning, I pulled on a pair of jeans and kept on the same shirt I’d slept in. Abby got out of bed without her customary protest and dressed quickly, as if she sensed my anxiety.

When I opened her bedroom door, my heart skittered when I found Grady lying in the hallway in front of it. He was snoring. I pressed a finger to my lips and lifted Abby to my hip. Cautiously, I stepped over him.

I nearly screamed when he grabbed my ankle.

“Necie.” He propped up on an elbow and rubbed his eyes with his free hand. “Wait.”

“Let go of me,” I said, and tried to shake off his grasp.

“Baby, I’m sorry—”

I shot him an angry glance. “Not in front of her.”

Immediately, he released me. I moved toward the stairs.

“But when—”

I paused on the first step. Our eyes met. Tears glistened in his, but still I felt nothing. I kept walking.

“Will you come home for lunch, so we can talk?” he called.

“I don’t know.”

He followed me all the way to the garage and waited until I set Abby down to thrust a piece of paper in my hand. I stared down at the name Marty and a phone number I didn’t recognize.

“What’s this?” I asked.

“He’s a coordinator for the local AA meetings. I’m going to one tomorrow night.” Grady clasped my hand. “Please, Necie, don’t give up on me. You’re right, I need help. I need you, too, and Abby.”

What about me, and what I need?
I thought, but didn’t say it out loud. If Grady was ready to admit he had a problem, I wanted him to get help. He was the father of my child; I didn’t want to see him destroy himself.

“Will you come home for lunch?” he asked again.
His green eyes pleaded with me. It shocked me how haggard he looked. When had he lost so much weight?

“I’ll be here at noon.” I shut Abby’s door and faced him. “But I’m not promising anything.”

“That’s okay,” he said. “I understand.”

When I walked through the double glass doors of the DEA building, I spotted Cougar standing by the elevators. He gave me a little wave in greeting and pressed the up button. His brown hair was damp, and he wore no coat. I tried not to notice the way his navy T-shirt stretched over his chest, or the rocky cleft of his bicep peeking from beneath his sleeve.

“Morning,” he said when I drew near.

“Morning.” My face heated when I thought about our encounter in the snow, and some of the things he’d said to me last night.

Oh grow up
, I thought.
This is Cougar. He probably says the same sort of thing to the waitress who brings his morning bagel
.

I jumped when he leaned in to sniff my hair, then felt a flash of irritation at myself. This school crush thing I had going had to stop.

“That’s different,” he said. “Cotton candy?”

Did the man notice everything? Maybe that was the magic of Cougar. He had a gift for making every woman around him feel like the only one who existed.

“Bubblegum. I used Abby’s shampoo.”

He nodded, unscrewed the cap from his Dasani bottled water, took a swig, then closed it back. He looked troubled—maybe even a little nervous. It wasn’t something I was used to seeing in Cougar.

“Look, Necie,” he said. “About what happened last night … I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you or anything.”

He frowned and uncapped his water again when the elevator lurched to a stop and the fifth-floor button lit.

“That’s okay,” I said when he turned the bottle up. “No, ah, hard feelings.”

Cougar dribbled water down the front of his shirt. I giggled as he coughed and laughed.

My smile faded when Kimberly glided into the elevator in all her auburn-haired glory. I felt downright schlumpy in my jeans and wrinkled T-shirt.

She grinned at Cougar, who was dabbing at the front of his shirt. “How did you miss a mouth like that?” she asked.

“Ha, ha,” he said. “This pick-on-Jason day or something? Necie’s already been poking fun at my expense.”

“Poor baby,” she cooed, and winked at me.

I tried not to hate her and her perfect genes. It wasn’t her fault she was five foot eleven, curvy, and brilliant. Okay, so maybe I would try not to hate her tomorrow. I’d had a bad night.

Still, I consoled myself, it couldn’t be easy to love a guy like Cougar. At least with Grady, I knew where I stood. Quicksand. But Cougar was too smooth, too
charming. The kind of guy who could lull you into thinking everything was perfect right until the day he wanted to be perfect with someone else.

Kim got off on the next floor. “See you, Necie. See you, Cougar.”

“See you,” I said.

Cougar caught the door. “Hey, I’ll be over to change your oil tonight.”

“Okay.” She waved. “See you then.”

I studied my ragged nails as the door shut. “Is that some kind of code for kinky stuff?”

He gave me that funny half smile again. “Nah, just a favor for a friend.”

I leaned against the wall, thoughts of Grady replaced by thoughts of Cougar’s “friends.”

We had a short meeting, and I felt a pang when Cougar and Linda left to do some legwork on their undercover operation. That should’ve been my job.

Tucker and I, since we had no immediate assignment, were delegated to cleaning up our messy conference room.

“So, how are things going with Anne Marie?” I asked when we were alone.

Tucker glanced up from the haphazard stack of files beside the copy machine and smiled. “Perfect. Think she’s the one, Necie.”

I paused swiping on the dry-erase board. “Oh, wow! You think that already?”

“More like something I know.” Tucker leaned against the table, his brown eyes animated. “I think I knew it from our first kiss. Was it like that with you and Grady?”

I laughed, and realized how bitter it sounded. “No,” I said quietly, and turned back to the board.

Five minutes later, Tucker said, “Hey, what’s this?”

I twisted to see him holding up a videotape.

“It says Barnes Surveillance, but there are no ID numbers, no log-in stickers.”

“Oh, God.” I crossed the room and took it from him. “What’s it doing here? All these are supposed to be with the prosecutor’s office.”

Tucker shrugged. “Maybe it’s a scrap. That could be why it’s not coded.”

“One way to find out.” We walked over to the TV/ VCR combo, and I punched it in. Tucker pressed the TV’s power button, and we moved back to watch.

Unease stole over me when the empty room flashed on-screen. It was a conference room much like this one, but the tables were nicer. Real wood. I stared at the picture of migrating geese on the wall. Where had I seen this room before? It wasn’t part of the Barnes estate.

The sound of her laughter preceded Maria Barnes into the shot. She backed into the frame, wearing a long black coat and clutching a man’s tie. She reeled him toward her. My heart stilled when I saw the back of his head.

“Hurry!” Maria said, and Grady pressed a finger to
her lips to shush her. He disappeared from the screen for an instant, then charged back to her, seizing her in a hungry kiss.

CHAPTER
8

I
sensed Tucker’s head whip around. Though we stood inches from each other, his voice sounded like it was coming through a tunnel. “Is that—?”

He reached for the power button. Unable to voice my “no” or even tear my eyes from the couple on the screen, I slapped at Tucker’s hand.