he’s up against. It’s not like the two of them are going to be friends. It’s not like with a bit of logic and reasoning he’s going to make Jack Mooney leave our family alone. In fact, I’m certain by his expression, this is exactly what he wants. He is drawing us into his web, and we’re too naive not to get caught.
I don’t know what Greg says to Mooney, or what Mooney says back, but when I reach the two of them, the air in the proverbial room is thick. “It’s too bad you can’t see it,” Mooney says to me. “You’re way too good for—” He motions toward Greg with exaggerated movements. “For this.”
“You need to leave us alone,” I reply, widening my stance, placing my hands on my hips. Dana taught us this. It’s a power position, and it’s important to take up as much space as possible. “Stop following me. Stop staging encounters. I’ve already gone to the police and—”
“And what?” He shakes his head. “What do you think they’re going to do?”
The way he taunts me ignites something in the pit of my stomach. All the rage and frustration that’s been bottled up suddenly comes pouring out, and it’s all directed at Mooney. “I think they’re going to cart your ass back to prison where you belong.”
“We should talk about that,” he says.
“What would it take?” Greg asks. “To get you to leave town and leave us alone?”
“How funny. You think I can be bought.” He snorts. “You’re exactly the kind of person who thinks money can just make all of your problems float away.”
“I’m sure that we can work something out,” Greg says.
“And I’m sure your absurd ideology makes you a target,” Mooney retorts. “Money isn’t everything. Sometimes other things can be equally satisfying…take revenge, for example.” He glances in my direction and then at Greg. “And anyway, if you’d done your homework, you’d know I’m not in need of your charity.”
“I think what my husband is looking for is a solution.” My voice comes out more threatening than I intend, angrier too, and for a second, I am proud.
“Ah. Speaking of solutions. Take prison. There’s a different sort of system in there, you know. Different kinds of exchanges are made. Mostly it’s all about power. Gives a man a lot of time to think, if you know what I mean?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” Greg says.
On one hand, I see a different version of my husband than I’m used to seeing. Businessman Greg. On the other, I see the familiar, and it strikes me that he has no idea what he’s leading himself into. I sat on that jury. For the better part of a week, I listened to the details of Mooney’s crimes. I know exactly what he’s capable of.
Jack Mooney slowly cocks his head to the right and rubs at his chin. Then, he too widens his stance. “It’s often said that you can’t fix yourself by breaking someone else. Prison will teach you real quick that’s a big fat lie.”
“I can offer you ten grand.”
“Ten grand?”
Ten grand? I’m thinking what Jack Mooney is thinking. Only I’m thinking it because we don’t have that kind of money.
Mooney considers my husband’s offer for a quick minute. “Do you know what it’s like to be bent over a toilet with your head in the bowl as God knows how many men have their way with you?” He glances from me to Greg and back. “No, I didn’t think so.” The corners of his mouth turn upward. “Well, let me tell you, it ain’t pretty. Only positive thing to come of something like that is you spend a bit of time in the infirmary. Gives you a little reprieve from the daily beatings. Either way, it’s all bad, trust me. But nothing is quite as bad as that first time. You should watch your back, Stone,” he says.
“Are you threatening me?” Greg scoffs. A silly question, all things considered. He’s clearly rattled. His logic isn’t as readily available as he’d like it to be.
“That’s the worst part of it…” Mooney smiles. “The waiting. You never really know when that first time is coming. You just know that it is.”
Chapter Sixteen
We have to do something, I insist over and over to Greg on the drive home. The sun is setting, traffic is light, and the mood is heavy. As the city and then the track neighborhoods give way to rolling hills, my frustration morphs