The View from Alameda Island - Robyn Carr Page 0,43
out she could handle frogs like a pro. “Be glad I don’t make you dissect this little guy for science class,” she’d said. Tim got caught shoplifting once and was forced to go apologize to the shop owner. He also cut class a lot when they were in high school.
“He’s much too handsome to be a priest,” she said.
“If you’d seen him with the girls in high school, you’d be shocked they let him in the priesthood. No one knew his secret, that he intended to end up a priest all along. That didn’t stop him from finding out what he’d be giving up.”
“Oh yeah?” she asked, grinning.
“Oh yeah. He found out before I did,” Beau said.
By the time Beau was walking her home, they were laughing and enjoying the summer evening. It was still light when she said good-night and let herself into her house and he drove away.
She leaned back against the front door and sighed. “I hope this is what I’ll be doing with my new life,” she said aloud. She made a decision right then—she wasn’t going to breathe a word about Beau to anyone until all this divorce business was behind her, behind both of them. She hoped it wouldn’t take too long. She pushed herself off the door and headed to the kitchen, putting her purse on the counter and getting a glass of cold water from the refrigerator.
The chime on her phone alerted her of motion on her front step. Had he come back? So soon?
She started for the door but then thinking better of it, she stopped and took her phone out of her purse. It had two chimes—one for motion and the other for when the doorbell rang. The doorbell rang. She hadn’t locked the door yet. The sun was just going down and it wasn’t dark. It must be Beau, she thought. Perhaps he forgot something. She looked at her phone.
She saw it was Brad. He had found her. He was fidgeting impatiently. She put her phone down and crept closer to the door. “What do you want, Brad?” she asked.
He pounded on the door. “Open the damn door, Lauren.”
“This isn’t a good time,” she yelled.
As she reached for the lock he opened the door and stormed in. “So that’s how it is,” he said, scowling. “It’s not about our marriage. It’s about a man.”
“What are you talking about?” she asked.
“I saw you,” he said. “You were with a man!”
Poor Brad. He was so completely self-absorbed he didn’t even recognize Beau, whom he had met. She frowned and backed away. “He’s a neighbor, Brad. He hung some shelves for me and I bought him a beer and sliders at the pub down the street.”
“It looked pretty cozy to be just a neighbor,” he said, approaching her rapidly.
“You’re crazy. It wasn’t cozy at all. It was—”
Lightning fast, he reached out and pinched her upper arm.
“Ouch! Don’t do that!” she exclaimed. But he pinched the other arm. “Stop it!” she shouted and she tried pushing his hands away.
He grabbed her wrists. “The most stupid thing you can do right now is lie to me!”
“Get out,” she said. “Get out right now or I’ll call the police!”
He laughed at her. “And what hand are you going to use to do that, Lauren? Huh? You know no one ever believes you because you’re a liar and a lunatic and sometimes you’re delusional.”
“You’re hurting me! Let go of me!”
With just the powerful grip of his hands around her wrists, he shook her. “You’ll be sorry,” he growled. “I’ll make sure you’re sorry.” He let go of one wrist to slap her, first the left cheek and then the right. And then to her shock, he curled up his fist and cold-cocked her, right in the cheek and eye. She hit her head on the breakfast bar on the way down. When she was down he said, “You’re just a stupid whore.” And he kicked her in the face. She managed to draw her hands over her face to protect herself somewhat but she felt it in her teeth. Then she felt herself fade out.
She was only out for a moment, she thought. She opened one eye and saw that the front door was standing open. She looked at her hands; they’d been trying to cover her face and now were covered with blood. She could hear birds, unless that was ringing in her ears. She could see the slant of the setting sun. She pulled