to bust her out any earlier, no matter how much of a fit Erin threw. Instead of telling her that, he said, “If it will make you feel better, call him. See what he says.”
She started to tug away, but he held fast. “After our shower. It’s not even eight yet. He’s probably asleep, and he may not even answer this early in the morning on a holiday.”
She relented and placed her phone on the counter. Holding tight to her hand, he led her into the shower. He wanted to anchor her back to reality, to take her thoughts away from the horrible images that voicemail had ignited. Carefully, tenderly, he washed her hair and her body. There was nothing sexual about the act. It was simply a husband cleaning his wife in the gentlest way possible.
But even as he touched her with compassion and love, his mind was turned to darkness and violence. When he caught up with the monster tormenting Erin, he was going to unleash the hateful, cruel side of him that had been caged so very long.
Chapter Eight
With a knot of anxiety wobbling in my stomach, I walked through the guest room one last time. I tugged the ends of the comforter and smoothed away the few creases, and fluffed all the pillows. I karate chopped the throw pillow in the reading chair I had picked out for Ruby and rearranged the plush chenille blanket. I stepped into the closet and did a mental inventory of what I had placed on hangers and in the drawers.
Another quiver of anxiety pierced my belly as I worried Ruby would flip out when she realized I had gone shopping for her. After she had gone to jail, I had gone to the apartment she had shared with her boyfriend. By then, the management company had evicted them, and everything was thrown in garbage bags in storage. Lena and Vivian had helped me sort through the bags, picking through the absolutely filthy contents to find what little could be salvaged. Ivan had taken Adrian’s things to his family—a few photos, his wallet, his fighting gear, his guitar—and everything else had gone straight to the trash.
The memory of how my sister had been living hurt to remember. Hopped up pills and meth and whatever else she could get her hands on, she hadn’t been eating or showering. There had been piles of rotting garbage and towers of empty soda and energy drink cans all over the place. The apartment had been so badly damaged that the management company had been preparing to sue her. I had quietly taken care of the bill with my HEMS payout from the trust our parents left behind. Lena had wanted me to send a bill to the trustee to get the money from Ruby’s cut, but I didn’t care about the fairness of it all. I just wanted it done and over with so we could move on as a family.
“The room is perfect,” Ivan remarked when I emerged from the closet. He leaned against the door frame, his thick arms crossed in front of his chest as he watched me. Instead of his usual shorts and tee, he wore dark jeans and a steel gray t-shirt. Shoving off the door, he said, “If she doesn’t like it, she can take a Lyft to the closest Motel 6.”
“Ivan!” I thumped his chest. “Be nice.”
He grumbled and lowered his mouth to mine. “I’ll be nice if she’s nice.”
I rolled my eyes and ducked away from his kiss. “We aren’t little kids, Ivan. We can be nice even if she’s being a jerk. And she probably is going to be difficult,” I added. “The book I’ve been reading about reuniting with a loved one after prison says that the initial adjustment period to life outside of confinement can be very stressful. I can show you the section.”
“I’m sure you highlighted it,” he teased. “It would be easy to find if I wanted to read it.”
“But you don’t want to read it?”
“I don’t need a book to tell me about life after prison,” he replied testily.
“I wouldn’t either if you would talk to me about your time inside.”
“That’s not something you want to hear.”
“Yes, it is.”
“It’s not something I want to share.”
I bit back the urge to be rude. Instead, I calmly replied, “The book says that most people who spend time in prison don’t want to talk to their loved ones about their experience. They don’t want