by Jodi Vaughn
“He got into an argument with his wife, Alice.”
“So?” I shrugged.
“So, Alice wasn’t ready for him to leave. He stormed out of the house and was going to the neighbor’s down the street. Alice got into her BMW and tried to run the man over.”
“What? Not Alice.” I frowned. “She’s always in church.”
“That’s what she tried to tell the cops when they showed up. Got her mugshot all over Facebook.” Gina pulled out her phone and shoved it under my nose.
“Why is she smiling in her mugshot?” I asked.
“Want me to see if she’ll take out Cal for you, Carla?” Meredith deadpanned. “Then you wouldn’t have to worry about money.”
Carla laughed and slowly slid off my couch to the floor. The wine glass hit the floor and shattered into a million pieces.
“Carla, are you okay?” I knelt beside her. Her eyes were half-open, and I felt for a pulse. “She’s still breathing.
“She just passed out.” Gina stood. “Come on, I’ll help you walk her back to her house while everyone else stays here with your girls.”
I sighed. Another bang-up night hosting book club.
I hoped it wouldn’t get worse.
Later that night as I was watching TV alone, I got an email from my attorney Ben Dover, informing me of a final meeting for mediation on Friday night.
This was it. Miles’ and my last chance to try and work things out before the divorce got ugly.
Chapter 36
It was Friday night around eight o’clock. Miles had worked late that day, and it was the earliest he could meet for mediation.
It worked out better for me since I preferred the night anyway.
I looked at my reflection in the mirror.
I had chosen my black pantsuit that tied at the waist. I paired it with my black Louboutins and a strand of black pearls.
It screamed “power suit,” and I wanted Miles to know that I meant business.
The girls were spending the night with friends. I figured that I would need the night to myself after whatever decisions had been made.
I grabbed my purse and keys and headed to the garage.
I pulled out and onto the street. The traffic was light, and I caught all the green lights. I pressed the brakes to turn onto Wilson Street, and nothing happened. The car didn’t slow. I pushed harder against the pedal until it was against the floorboard. The Volvo continued to go.
My heart jumped into my throat as I took the curve at full speed. Tires squealed, and horns honked. I was quickly approaching a red light on Main Street. Cars were crossing in front of me.
I gripped the steering wheel with terror welling up inside me.
I laid on the horn, trying to get people out of my way. I kept pumping the brakes, but nothing happened.
I drove into the intersection and barely missed a car. I swerved to miss an Escalade. I overcorrected and rammed straight into the brick wall of the Grill Steakhouse restaurant. The airbags deployed on impact, and my head slammed forward. The front of the vehicle crumpled into the cab of the Volvo, trapping me.
My heart thudded in my chest, and I was scared to move. Then I remembered that I was a vampire.
I heard sirens blaring and knew that the police would arrive in seconds. There was no way I could explain to them how I had survived this massive wreck. I had to act fast.
I wiggled my arms free from the steel encasing them. I pushed as hard as I could against the door frame that had been twisted.
Slowly, the steel began to move. I pushed harder. The mangled door swung free. I climbed out and stumbled. The heel of my Louboutin broke off. A hostess came running outside.
“Oh, my Lord. Are you all right?” She was a young blonde with a piercing in her nose. She looked at the car and then back at me. “I can’t believe you survived that. You must be in shock. You should sit down.”
“My brakes failed. I tried to stop, but I couldn’t.”
“You’re bleeding.” She touched her head, and her face grew pale. “You need to sit down. The paramedics will be here soon.”
I touched my fingers to my temple. I pulled them back to see the warm blood coating my fingertips.
The scent of gasoline hung heavily in the air. Smoke rose up from of the hood of the Volvo. A flicker of flames licked under the car.
“We need to get everyone out of the building. It’s not safe.” I rushed past the hostess into the restaurant. Everyone had stood from their tables and moved away from the bar to check out the commotion.
“You’re bleeding,” one woman gasped.
“I know. Look, everyone needs to leave the restaurant. The car is on fire.”
That was all it took. Everyone ran out of the building like kids getting out of school for summer.
When I was sure that no one else was in the restaurant, I hobbled out on a broken heel.
The fire truck and police arrived. The firemen were already hosing down the car. One of the waitresses pointed me out to a cop. He locked his gaze on me and marched in my direction.
“Are you the owner of the car?” He was an older police officer in his early forties with blond hair and brown eyes. My gaze drifted to his badge on the right side of his uniform. Matthews.
“I am.” I swallowed and pressed my hand over my fast-beating heart.
“We need to have the paramedics look you over before I take a statement.”
I shook my head. “No. I’m okay.”
“You’re bleeding.” He narrowed his eyes.
“Really, it’s just a scratch,” I assured him.
He pulled out a handkerchief and pressed it to my head. He leaned in, and I couldn’t help but notice how good his cologne smelled. “I really should insist you get checked out. But I know enough about Southern women to know how stubborn they can be.”
I laughed.
He pulled the handkerchief away and frowned. “Looks like you were right. It’s stopped bleeding.”
It was my vampiric healing powers, but he didn’t need to know that.
“I’m Officer Matthews. Are you the owner of the car?” He pulled out his notepad.
“Yes. I’m Rachel Jones. I was trying to stop when I saw the red light and realized my brakes weren’t working. I kept pumping them, but nothing. I swerved to miss a car and ended up hitting the building.” I shook my head. Tears welled up behind my eyes. “I’ve never experienced anything like that.”
Officer Matthews looked back at the wrecked car. The firefighters had successfully put out the flames that I had seen under the carriage.
“You are very fortunate to walk away from an accident like that.” He looked back at me. “Have you had any brake work done lately?”
“No.” I shook my head. “Nothing. No one has touched my car…” The image of Miles messing around my Volvo a few days earlier flashed through my mind.
“Did you remember something?” He leaned in farther.
“Yes, I have an appointment,” I said quietly.
“It’s kind of late for an appointment.” He checked the time on his watch.
“It’s not that kind of appointment. It’s for mediation. I’m getting a divorce.”
“I see. Is there any way you can postpone it? I really need to get your statement at the station.”
“Can it wait? I really need to take care of this meeting.” I looked into his eyes.
“Matthews!” One of the other cops called out. “Need to see you for a minute.”
“I’ll be right back,” he assured me.
I sighed and glanced at my watch. I was already ten minutes late.
Officer Matthews was talking to the tow truck man. Maybe I could just sneak away while he wasn’t looking.
Officer Matthews jerked his head in my direction. He said something to the tow truck driver and then jogged back over to me.
“Mrs. Jones. Is there anyone you can think of who would want to cause you harm?”
A chill ran down my spine. “Why are you asking me that?”
Matthews gave me a grim look. “Because the brake line has been cut on your vehicle. This was no accident. It was deliberate.”
I covered my mouth with my hand. I’d already figured as much but needed to put on a good show for Officer Matthews.
“I can’t believe it,” I said.
“You said you were headed to mediation with your husband.”
“Yes.”
“May I ask the reason for the divorce?”
I looked him square in the eye. “Infidelity.”
“I see.” He scribbled something down on the pad. “Who was the other woman?
“Nikki Stollings.” I lifted my chin. “She was my best friend. Until I saw her screwing my husband.”
“Interesting.” He continued scribbling.
“Do you think she had anything to do with this? I heard she left her husband, as well.”
His eyebrows shot up. I knew I had caught his interest.
I really needed to get to that meeting. I looked at Matthews and held his gaze. “I really am okay. You need to let me leave. I need to make this meeting.”
His eyes glazed. “You can go to your meeting.”
“Thank you, Officer Matthews.” I stuffed his handkerchief into his pocket.
I turned and started hobbling towards the attorney’s building.
Chapter 37
I limped into Harvey Lang’s office with a scowl.
“Oh, my. Mrs. Jones, what happened to you?” Harvey stood from his chair with wide eyes.
“Why is your head bleeding?” Miles’ face creased with concern.
I glared at him. “You should know.” I glanced around and looked for Ben but didn’t see him.
“Where’s my attorney?” I demanded.
“Mr. Dover called ahead and said he had forgotten about our meeting. He said he was on his way to visit his great-niece in Washington.”
“DC?”
“No. Washington State.” Harold shook his head. “Didn’t he already call and tell you?”
“No, he did not.” I buried my fingers in the palms of my hands to keep from slapping everyone in the room.
“So, what are we supposed to do?”
“Well, since this is the mediation meeting, you and Miles will meet with the mediator. If you guys agree on terms, then all you need from your attorneys is to file the appropriate paperwork. The divorce should go quickly from there,” Harold said encouragingly.
“Without me having proper counsel?”
“We’ve all been friends for a while now, and I think we can come to an amicable agreement.” Harold smiled. “But first, you’ll be pleased to know that we got the appraisal back. Your house is valued at almost three million dollars.”
I jerked my head towards the attorney. “But that would mean—”
“That your house has tripled in value.” Harold nodded. “Now, I’m going to let you and Miles have my office so you guys can talk privately. I’m going to head over to the Grill across the street. If you need me, you know where to find me. The mediator should be here in about ten minutes. That should give you both time to talk.” Harold buttoned his suit and headed out the door.
“After you.” Miles waved me into Harold’s office. He closed the door behind him.
“What happened?” He eased onto the couch in the office and studied me. I could hear his heart thudding in his chest, probably because he hadn’t finished the job of killing me.
“Apparently, someone cut the brake line on my car.” I didn’t bother sitting. I wanted to have the advantage of looking down on him.
“What?” Miles jumped up from his seat, his eyes wide. “That’s not possible.”
“Well, Officer Matthews confirmed it.” I glanced at my watch. “Just a few minutes ago. In fact, if Harold is headed to the Grill, my Volvo’s stuck in the wall.”
“But who would do such a thing?”
“Who indeed.” I looked away from Miles and walked around the room. “Harold said we needed to decide on some things tonight. So, let’s decide.” I spun around and looked at him.
He cleared his throat and steadied his expression. “Okay. Rachel, I’m going to be honest. I think since all this happened, you are having a mental break. It’s evident with the drinking wine at the girls’ soccer games, the therapist you are apparently seeing, and the paranoid delusion you are under that someone cut your brakes.”
My mouth fell open, but I couldn’t talk.
“You are unfit to care for the girls. I want sole custody of them, and as an act of good faith, I won’t ask you to pay child support. Since the house is valued at three million, we should sell it. Of course, I’ll give you a percentage of the sale, say…twenty percent. That should get you started in a small apartment where you can start over.”
“What about the checking accounts, the savings accounts, the vacation home,” I gritted through my teeth.
“Rachel. You didn’t work. You didn’t earn that money. That’s my money.” He lifted his chin.
Raw anger. I was consumed with raw anger. If Miles weren’t the father of my girls, I would have snapped his fucking neck and drained him dry right there in Harold Lang’s office. And then when Harold showed up, I would have drained that bastard, too.
“And you think that’s fair.” It was more of a statement than a question. I was seeing Miles for the very first time in my life.
“Look, you started this by announcing my misstep to the whole town. You humiliated me and dragged my good name through the mud. You are so angry about this that you are becoming vengeful. So, yes, I think my requests are fair. Now you can say what you want to.”
“Miles, sit down.”
“I don’t…”
“I said, sit the fuck down.”
“See. That’s exactly what I’m talking about. How do I know you’re not talking like a sailor in front of the kids? How do I know you’re not getting drunk every night?”
I turned my back to him because I wanted him to hear my words. “I have something to say.”
“Fine.” He eased onto the couch.
“You are not the man I thought you were. I thought you were generous and kind and loving. But behind that mask you present to everyone lies a monster. A monster with a soul so dark and selfish, it doesn’t know how to love. You don’t want sole custody of the kids because you think I’m a bad mom. You want sole custody because you don’t want to spend a single dime of your money.”
“Rachel…”
“I’m not done.” I turned and looked him in the eyes. His gaze was trained on me, and I knew I was glamouring him. “I know you are the one who tried to hurt me. You didn’t want to pay, so you thought you would kill me. But you didn’t. You see, I’m untouchable. Well, now, you’re the one who’s going to pay.”
I sat down next to him on the couch. “You will give me the house. And you will continue to pay the mortgage. You are giving me full custody of the girls, and you will pay me twenty thousand dollars a month in child support. You will pay all our medical and dental bills, as well as the girls’ activities. You are also going to send me and the girls on a weeklong family vacation wherever we want to go. You’ll give us a summer vacation and a winter vacation. You will also buy me a new car every two years just because you feel so guilty about what you did to our family. And as for alimony? Well, you are going to pay me ten thousand dollars a month in alimony to cover the pain and suffering you’ve put me through.” I stood. His gaze followed me. “Now, go over there to those papers and write that shit down and sign it. You will not let Harold talk you out of this agreement. Understand? And you will not let the mediator talk you out of this either. Understand?”
“I understand.” His lips glistened with unshed drool. “You are so beautiful.” He leaned in and tried to kiss me.
I shoved at his chest. “Not happening, asshole. You should have treated me better. Now, go write all that down before the mediator gets here.”
Miles walked over and wrote out everything. After
he was done, he signed it, and I signed after him.
The office door opened, and Erin Flag, our mediator, walked inside. “Sorry, I’m late. There was an accident on Main Street.” She set her things down. “I hope we can have a better meeting than last time.” She eyed both of us carefully.
“Oh, I think we just came to an agreement that we both agree on. Miles wrote everything down.”
Her face brightened. “Perfect. I’ll just go over it with you both.”
After twenty minutes of Erin confirming everything Miles was giving me, I stood and walked out of the office.
Harold was in the lobby with a bottle of water.
“I hope we have come to some kind of arrangement?” Harold asked carefully.
“We did. And we both signed it. I’m hoping this can get pushed through the legal system very quickly. We both want to move on.” I didn’t wait for his reply.
I was sick and tired of men thinking they could run my life. I no longer had any use for any of them.
Chapter 38
I limped a few feet down the sidewalk. I stopped and looked down at my ruined shoes. I tugged both of them off. A slight smile settled on my lips.
Miles might have screwed me with his unfaithfulness, but I had fucked him when and where it counted. I had never felt so triumphant.
I looked down at my watch. I had left my phone in the car, and I was pretty sure it was ruined.
I needed to find a ride home, so I headed down the sidewalk towards a Chinese restaurant. They could call a taxi.
A pickup truck slowed next to me. “Rachel?”
I turned my head at the familiar voice. “Brad?”
“Rachel, oh my God. I saw your car back at the restaurant. I thought you were…”
“Hurt?” I shrugged. “I guess I have a guardian angel looking after me.”
“But the car was so mangled. How did you walk away from that?”
“Lucky, I guess,” I said.
“Do you need me to take you to the hospital? You probably need to get checked out by a doctor.” He got out of the truck and walked over to the passenger’s side. He held open the door.
