Easy Nights (Boudreaux #6)

My God, he looks just like Lance. No, he’s not bluffing. Everything in me is screaming to not get in that car, but I don’t see where I have a choice.

“Take your handbag and keys. We’re not uncivilized,” he says and smiles sweetly now. “We’re just taking a little field trip.”

He takes me by the arm and leads me out of my house, down the porch steps, and to my car.

“You’re driving.”

“I don’t know where we’re going.”

He rolls his eyes and shoves me into the passenger seat, takes my keys, and starts my car. “Fine. I’ll drive. But I hate driving.”

“I hate being here with you, but it looks like we’re both stuck anyway.”

He arches a brow and pulls away from my house. “No wonder Lance smacked you around. You have quite the smart mouth on you.”

I don’t answer him. I turn my head and stare out the window and he drives in silence. The city slips away and we’re out in the country for what feels like forever. We drive through Baton Rouge, and keep going until he turns off the freeway, following signs for the Louisiana State Penitentiary.

My head whips around. “You’re taking me to the prison?”

He doesn’t answer. He just smiles and shows an armed guard our identification. They don’t even bat an eye as they let us drive through. We’re led inside and to a small, windowless room with a table and three chairs set up for us.

“This is where inmates meet with their lawyers.”

“Lance’s lawyer isn’t here.”

“Yes, he is,” Larry replies proudly. “He’s assigned me as council now that his trial is over.”

I can’t breathe. I’m covered in sweat. I can’t stop shaking. I have to look weak and vulnerable, which is not how I want to look to them, but I can’t stop.

“They wouldn’t normally let you in with me, but I made it worth someone’s while to let me do pretty much whatever I want.”

“You’re paying them off?”

He laughs now. “Oh, Savannah. You’re so na?ve. If it wasn’t so pathetic, it would be cute.”

A door opens, and Lance walks in. The guard uncuffs him and he sits opposite me at the table, staring at me.

Staring through me.

“Well hello, wife.”

“I’m not your wife.”

He scoffs. “A technicality. You’re still mine, Van. You’ll always be mine.”

I shake my head and stand.

“I want to leave.”

“Sit down,” Lance says in that calm, menacing voice he used every day of our marriage. I hesitate, but then obey. “Good girl.”

“What do you want?”

“Show her,” Lance says, never looking away from me as his brother opens a briefcase that I didn’t even see him carrying. He pulls out hundreds of photos and spreads them over the table.

Fuck.

I can’t swallow. I can’t breathe.

“Look at how big young Sam has grown,” Lance says, pointing at a photo of my sister’s son walking home from the bus stop. “And how sweet Eli’s baby and wife look in their backyard.”

I sit still, numbly watching as he and Larry comb through the photos of every member of my family, all at different times of day.

Then Larry pulls out photos of Ben and me and Lance’s smile slips.

“And now you’re whoring yourself out to Ben?”

I don’t answer, but rather sit in horror as more photos are pulled out. Ben and me, all over town. In our homes. With my family and his mom.

“You have someone watching us?”

“Clearly,” Lance says and rolls his eyes like I’m stupid. “We see everything.”

Larry tosses a photo of the Chanel No. 5 on my vanity onto the pile.

“You stopped wearing your perfume,” Lance says.

“I hate that perfume.”

“I don’t give a fuck,” he replies. “You’ll fucking wear it. Every goddamn day.”

“I’m not married to you,” I remind him again. “I can do what I want. I can wear what I want.”

“Okay.” Lance sits back and crosses his arms over his chest. “Let’s talk about that. Larry, show her the last of them.”

Ben throwing up at the side of the road. Ben getting beat up in front of his building. Ben and me standing on his front porch with the door open. Ben and me standing by his Jeep, right after the accident.

“I admit, the whole cut brake line thing was a bit dramatic.” He shrugs. “But I kind of liked trying something out of the movies.”

“All of this is your fault?”

“Oh, this and more.” He grins again, looking so fucking smug. I want to kick him in the balls. “Is Ben having some financial trouble this morning?”

“What the hell, Lance? You’re doing all of this because I’m not with you anymore?”

“Who do you think you are?” Lance asks, ignoring my question. “You’re nothing, Van. You’re a piece of shit. You’re fat, you’re horrible in bed. Jesus, fucking you is like fucking a dead fish.”

It’s all things I’ve heard before.

“Do you seriously think you deserve to be happy?” he continues. “You don’t deserve anything except for the beating I gave you when you thought about leaving me.”

“And you deserved the one Ben gave you in return.”

Every tiny ounce of humor leaves Lance’s face.

“You have two choices.” He leans in now, pinning me in his stare. “You can break up with this prick, go back to living the way I say you may, and I’ll leave Ben and the rest of your fucked up family alone.”

“Or?”

“Or, you can keep seeing Ben. Fucking him. You can keep your hair short, and wearing your disgusting perfume, and pretending like I never existed in your world.”

“I’ll take that option.”

“If you do, I’ll—”

“You’ll what? You’ll be pissed and keep following me? Do you think I can’t call the cops and my lawyer and put a stop to this?”

He tilts his head to the side, watching me. “No. I’ll slowly destroy everyone you love.”

“You can’t do that.”

His lips twitch. “I’ve already started. But let me be clear. I won’t kill Ben. That’s too easy. No, I’ll make Ben’s life hell. I’ll destroy him. Financially, emotionally. It will be a constant battle, and he’ll never know where I’ll come from next.”

“You talk a big game, Lance, but I don’t believe you’ll pull it off.”

“We’ve been in your house,” Larry reminds me. “And his. When you’re sleeping. When you’re fucking. We’re always watching.”

“And then I’ll start with your family. This is going to be quite fun, actually, so I’m kind of hoping you go with this option. Look at how innocent and safe Sam looks while he walks home from the bus?”

“Keep your fucking hands off of my family.”

He ignores me, and keeps looking through the photos. He holds up one of Mallory locking up her shop after dark. “Mallory shouldn’t close her place up by herself after dark in the Quarter. Anything could happen. Oh, and look at this one! Your mama outside in her garden. She has earbuds in her ears. I’m quite sure she wouldn’t hear someone come up behind her.”

I’m seeing red. “You’re threatening my family.”

“Oh, you know this isn’t a threat, sugar. This is what’s going to happen. You may have put me in here, but you didn’t keep me from doing what I do best.”

“Terrorism?”

“I’m just being a good husband. I’m helping you make good choices.”