him take a swing at me and give us one more thing to charge him with.”
“No,” she repeated, certain now that this was a confrontation she had to face alone. “I’ll be safe enough.”
Despite her claim, though, she was grateful that the cell door between them would be locked. Today’s scene had proved her worst fears about Will’s temper.
After taking one last look at Justin, she drew in a deep breath and went to see her husband, all the while trying to remember that this was a man she had once loved with all her heart.
Since she’d seen him being led away from Dolan’s, all of the fight had drained out of him. He was sitting on the cot in his cell looking dazed, as if he weren’t quite sure how he’d gotten there. He looked surprisingly chastened.
In the months since she’d last seen him, he’d aged. There were even premature hints of gray in his straight, coal black hair. There were shadows under his eyes and lines of weariness etched on his face. And yet, despite the obvious exhaustion, he was as handsome as ever, his clothes perfectly tailored, if badly mussed from his rampage at Dolan’s. He would hate it when he realized how filthy and wrinkled he was.
“Will,” she said softly.
His head jerked up and for a brief instant she saw the hint of vulnerability, the flash of a boyish smile that had made her fall in love with him when they’d first met. Then, as if he suddenly remembered the circumstances, his expression hardened and the light in his eyes died.
“You’ll pay for this, Patsy,” he said coldly.
“No,” she said, refusing to cower under the threat. “You brought this on yourself. I wasn’t the one smashing things up at Dolan’s.”
“If you’d opened the damn door...”
“You were out of control,” she reminded him patiently.
“Because of you. You took my son. You ran away from our marriage and you did it when it would hurt me the most, right in the middle of a campaign. You deliberately humiliated me.”
“You’re wrong,” she said, and met his gaze evenly. “I wasn’t even thinking of you.”
“There, you see. It didn’t matter a damn to you that your leaving could cost me the election.”
“No, it didn’t. I was only thinking about saving myself and Billy.”
He gazed at her incredulously. “From me?”
“Yes, from you. You’d turned our house into a war zone. I left you once because of it, but rather than change, you just threatened me and my parents. You virtually blackmailed me into coming back. This time I just made sure there was nobody else involved and I came to a place I prayed you’d never find me. Obviously it wasn’t far enough.”
His expression turned triumphant. “You should have known better than that. I have the resources to find you no matter where you try to hide. It would be wise of you to remember that if you ever get a crazy idea about leaving again.”
Patsy wrapped her arms around her middle and forced herself not to show how terrified she was that he might try to make her go home with him again.
“I’m not coming back to Oklahoma, Will, and neither is Billy.” She said it firmly, her gaze fixed on his face as she waited for the explosion of temper likely to follow. To her amazement—and fear—there was no explosion, just a cold, cruel look.
“I guess we’ll see about that,” he said in a soft, lethal tone. “Have you noticed that this cell has a window? It has a perfectly fascinating view of Main Street. I saw you and your boyfriend.”
Patsy barely contained a gasp of dismay. Surely he wouldn’t drag Justin into the middle of their fight. She stared into his unrelenting eyes and sighed. Of course, he would.
“He is not my boyfriend,” she said, hoping to persuade him.
“Oh, I’m sure I can find folks who’d say otherwise.”
“Pay them to, you mean.”
“If necessary.”
“It won’t hold up, Will.”
“Are you willing to risk that? Is he worth losing Billy?”
Fury outdistanced fear. “You will never take my son. Never!”
“Try me.”
“You won’t win.”
“Oh, but I will. I have money and power and influential friends. I can give Billy everything. He’s half Native American. That’ll work in my favor, too. Living with you would rob him of his heritage, keep him from understanding his father’s culture. Tribal law—”
She cut him off. “Since when are you so concerned with your culture?” she snapped. “The only time it’s mattered to you is when it can