It was Bryce’s laugh—I’d know it anywhere.
My stomach jumped into my throat. I bent down to the garbage can beside the desk just in time. I spilled my guts into the wastebasket. Tears streamed down my face as I retched harder and harder. When there was nothing left inside of me, I tried to regain control of my body. My breaths were quick and deep. My skin was damp from sweat and tears. My throat burned from the remnants of bile. I wiped the tears from my face, patted away the sweat, and swallowed hard. What did I marry? A monster. A total monster.
I quickly grabbed the video and sent it to my personal email. I closed everything out, put the monitor to sleep, grabbed the puke-filled bag inside the trash can, and slipped out of the office, locking the door behind me. I had to warn Olivia.
63
Olivia
I walked into the house through the garage, carrying a half dozen shopping bags from Chanel, Gucci, and Barney’s. We didn’t have the money for this little shopping trip, but I needed it, and I was sure we would have the money soon. I was taking care of things the only way I knew how: by any means necessary. Tossing the bags on the island counter, I walked to the oversized fridge, grabbing a bottle of opened pinot grigio. I poured myself a glass and took an indulgent drink. Tapping my scarlet nails against the glass, I pondered how I was going to pull everything together. Karen would deliver on the money. I was sure of that. She had her business to consider and that son of hers, and the last thing she would want to do is to ruin her perfect image. I thought the fifty thousand might have been too much, but then I remembered how much her husband was paying me on a biweekly basis and knew they could afford it.
Taking another slow drink, I let out a laugh. I was bleeding her family dry through their own indiscretions. I just needed to figure out who Dean was working for, who was ruining us. Whoever it was, I would make it my life’s mission to ruin them. No one messes with my money and gets away with it.
Jenny had called me twice today. I avoided her phone calls, but I’m sure it was to tell me my card was declined for this month’s membership fee. I would call her later and explain it away with an expired card or something, and then I would pay her in cash at the party. Thank God, I had been stashing the money Mark had been paying me. It would keep my lifestyle afloat until Saturday.
The doorbell rang.
A few moments later, I found Crystal standing on the other side of it. She looked like she had been crying, thanks to a blotchy face and red-rimmed eyes. Her skin needed a serious facial. A large tote bag hung on her arm, and she was dressed in yoga pants and a crewneck sweater. How could she let herself leave the house like that? How could Bryce let her leave the house like that? She did not deserve him.
“Can I come in?” She cautiously looked over both of her shoulders.
“Come in.” I opened the door wider and motioned her in. Crystal scurried in like a little stray cat.
She followed me into the living room and took a seat on the couch across from me. Her eyes bounced all around like she was looking for something or someone.
“Do you want something to drink?” I asked, taking a sip of wine.
She shook her head. “Is Dean here?”
I raised an eyebrow and crossed one leg over the other. She had piqued my interest. “No.”
“Okay.” She glanced around the room again and hesitated for a moment.
“Listen. I don’t have a lot of time. What’s this about?” My patience had worn thin.
Crystal pulled out a MacBook from her tote bag and placed it on her lap. She held the sides of it tightly, glancing at it and then looking back at me.
“Did you know?” She squinted her eyes as if she were trying to read text that was too small—but really, she was trying to read me.
“Know what?” I uncrossed my legs, leaned in, and repositioned myself as if on the edge of my seat.
She opened the laptop, clicked around with the trackpad, and then set it on the coffee table, turning it toward me.
“I’m sorry. This is going to be really hard for you, but you need to know.” Crystal clicked Play and a video began.
“Shit. We’ve lost another one,” Dean said as he walked on-screen carrying a dead woman.
When the video stopped, Crystal closed the laptop and put it back in her bag. My eyes were wide. My mouth was open.
“Was that Bryce’s voice?” I asked. I knew it was but wanted to confirm.
She nodded and hung her head in shame.
I looked surprised, and I was . . . but only by the fact that it was Bryce that Dean was working for. I had always known that Dean’s money wasn’t clean, though I’ve been careful over the years not to ask too many questions. As long as the money kept coming in, it made sense to look the other way.
“Where did you get that video?”
“Off of Bryce’s computer. I found it today.” Her lip quivered. Her eyes moistened.
I leaned back in my seat, crossed one leg over the other, and took a sip of wine. That slimy bastard. I should have known. Of course it was Bryce. It was why Dean had pushed me to get along with the wives, to make nice with Crystal, to keep things peaceful. Bryce and Dean needed us to keep up appearances, to look like upstanding citizens of the Buckhead community. They needed us to look the part, while they were off trafficking drugs, guns, and girls.
“What are you going to do with it?” I asked.
She glanced around the room helplessly, like a small child that just found out Santa wasn’t real. “I don’t know. Go to the police?” Crystal looked to me for approval, for solidarity, for help.
“You’re going to turn your husband in?” I raised an eyebrow.
“I have to. The man on that video is not the man I married. How could he do that . . . to those poor girls? He’s a monster.” Her voice cracked at the end as she fought back tears.
I swiveled my wineglass, allowing the liquid to coat the sides of it, and took another sip.
“Have you talked to him? Given him a chance to explain?” I bounced my foot.
“He can’t explain that away. Did you not watch the video?” She pointed at the laptop that was now stowed in her bag. Her eyes were wild.
“We should really think about this.”
“He threatened your life, Olivia. I came here to warn you.”
“I’m a big girl, Crystal. I can take care of myself.”
Her mouth fell open. Was it really so shocking that I would choose to stand by my husband? He brought home the money. His work provided for us, and that’s what mattered. I had even told him I wanted to be an active part of it. Honestly, I felt I could do it better than him. Trafficking needed a woman’s touch.
“We need to go to the police,” she urged.
I looked around the room, contemplating, and then back at her. “You should send me the video,” I said.
“Okay.” She pulled out her laptop and typed away at it. “There. Sent. So, you’re going to go to the police then?” Crystal stowed the computer back in her bag.
I finished my wine and set the empty glass on the table. Standing from my seat, I crossed my arms over my chest and raised my chin.
“I think you need to leave. I don’t appreciate you speaking ill of my husband.”
“Olivia, how can you be okay with this? This is wrong! So wrong!” She stood from the couch. Her voice came out all whiny.
“It’s business. And I wouldn’t be so quick to turn your back on your husband. You saw what he did with those women. You wouldn’t want to end up in that pile too,” I taunted.
“How can you do this?” Crystal asked as she quickly gathered her bag.
“We’re living the American dream.”
“Breaking the law isn’t living the American dream, Olivia,” she hissed.
“America was built on the backs of others. We’re just carrying on the tradition.” I chuckled as I walked her to the front door.
Crystal turned toward me as she exited my home. “Olivia, please.”
“I can’t help you,” I said, closing the door in her face.
I pulled my phone from my pocket and dialed. A woman answered.
“Hi, is Bryce in?” I asked.