“She did,” I admit solidly.
He comes over to me, and Jaleesa uses that opportunity to get back on her feet. She’s weak, shaking. She should have just stayed away.
Grey looks back at Jaleesa and says, “Did that guy introduce her to anyone in the restaurant?”
“I don’t know,” she says nervously.
“Did Moore introduce you to anyone, Rachel?”
“No, he didn’t.”
Grey nods and folds his arms. “Jaleesa, was she introduced to you?”
“No,” she stammers.
“What about your date?”
Jaleesa shakes her head.
Grey goes over to his sister, literally backing her up to the wall next to the fireplace. Jaleesa looks down at the floor. I wonder if she feels so compelled to stay loyal to him now.
“Do you think I’m stupid, Jaleesa?”
She shakes her head quickly.
“Whatever my wife is doing is my business, not yours. Do you understand?” The tone of his voice sends shivers up my spine. I can imagine how she feels with Grey so close to her.
“Yes,” Jaleesa mumbles.
“You were babbling something.” Grey bends down a little. His ear close to her mouth.
“I understand, Grey.”
He stands back, giving her a clear path. “Get the fuck out.”
Jaleesa rushes out of the room, right by me and a horrified Andrew. The front door slams so hard that their mother’s photograph on the console to the side of where I’m standing falls over. I pick it up and put it back. Can’t keep a mess in any form in this house for any reason.
Grey asks Andrew, “Why did you let her go out in public with him?”
“Talk to your wife, man.” Andrew walks away.
I wish I could do that, just walk away when I want.
Grey crosses the room and stands right in front of me. He calmly asks, “Why did you leave with him, Rachel?”
I want to run, but there’s no escaping.
“He wanted me to go out to dinner,” I answer nervously.
“What did I tell you about going out in public?”
“I followed your instructions.”
“You followed my instructions? Really?”
“Whatever the client wants,” I answer. “That’s what you told me. That’s exactly what I did.”
Grey remembers. He backs off.
“Mr. Moore wanted to take me out to dinner,” I explain further. “If I would have told him no, he would’ve wanted his money back, and I knew you didn’t want that.”
His anger softens, but he’s still very tense. Grey is about to say something, but thank God, his cell phone starts ringing. It’s loud and nerve wrecking, but it’s a saving bell.
“When you’re with a john, it’s not a fucking prom date. You stay in the hotel room or at their house. That’s it.” Grey takes his cell phone out of his back pocket and looks at the display. He returns his attention to me. “I have to take this call downstairs. Make sure my food is on the table when I come back up.” He puts the phone to his ear and walks out, heading for the basement.
I let go of a breath and grab the wall. Yes, my husband makes me sleep with other men for money. I don’t have a choice, but I try to make each time not only about the men or women I’m with but about me, as well. The high of sex is the only solace I have from my insane life.
There’s no more time for me to waste on thoughts. I have to change. I must be quick about it, or I’ll be the next one to get a busted lip.
Chapter Four
When Grey is hungry, he doesn’t like to wait, and the longer it takes, the more irate he gets. So I rush. I’ve changed clothes, and I’m back in the kitchen in less than ten minutes making Hamburger Helper. Grey is nowhere in sight. He’s still in the basement, viewing the security footage. I suppose he’s checking to see if anyone was in the house today other than me and Andrew.
I’m not allowed down there ever since I started ‘working.’ I learned the hard way I wasn’t welcomed. It was six months ago in January. I remember the weather was bad. Raining all day, and it was cold. I made chili. I thought Grey and I would have dinner together. Not an unusual thing to do. I knocked on the basement door and went down the steps. As soon as my foot hit the floor, Grey charged me from out of nowhere. I didn’t see where he came from. He moved that fast. He grabbed me by the neck and walked me backwards up the steps. I thought he was going to kill me. His eyes were full of hate and rage. Once we were back on the main level of the house, he threatened me straight out. I was to never go into the basement from that point on, and I was to never ask what he was doing down there. I haven’t returned since then. That evening, I tossed that chili in the garbage and hid in the bedroom for the rest of the night.
Within thirty minutes, I’ve made Hamburger Helper with green peas on the side. I set the table in the breakfast nook and wait. I’m relieved and disappointed when Grey finally does come from his underground dungeon. He sits in his normal spot, facing towards the bay window that has an unhindered view of the backyard and fence on the other end.
“Tea,” he orders while snapping the napkin open.
He likes it more on the unsweetened side with a fresh slice of lemon. Of course, I hurry to prepare it for him. Once I’ve placed the glass on the table, I continue standing, just in case he wants something else. Grey tries his meal. He’s not cussing or throwing the plate across the room. This is a good sign he likes the food. I sit down, figuring he’s done making demands.
Halfway through his meal, the doorbell rings. Grey wipes his mouth and gets up from the table. Eventually, I hear mumbling. I will not go to the door to see who it is. Another lesson learned the hard way.
Grey enters the living room with Detective Lucas Parker, an old friend from the days of when he was on the force. They went through police academy training, rose a little through the ranks together. Eventually, Lucas moved on to other departments. Grey moved out and set forth to making a different mark on the world. I can’t recall the last time I saw Lucas, and I’m wondering why he’s here now.
“Hello, Rachel,” Lucas says with a friendly wave.
I smile and speak cordially.
“Glad you’re here,” he says to me. “You’re just the person I wanted to talk to.”
“Told you Rachel and I don’t know anything,” Grey responds.
“Just making sure I’ve checked every avenue,” Lucas replies. “Have you already forgotten what it’s like to be a detective?”
“I only made it to patrol.” Grey is embarrassed.
“Oh, right,” Lucas chuckles out.
“Rachel can’t help you,” Grey says with irritation. It pisses him off that Lucas laughed at him.
“I still need to speak to her, or are you trying to hinder my investigation?”
Grey doesn’t like the question, but he backs off. After he gives me a nod of permission, I walk over to the living room. Lucas can feel a strange awkwardness between me and my husband.
“Rachel,” Lucas replies as he takes out a small notepad and pen from his jacket. “Did you ever meet your neighbor, Gia Briggs?”
“No,” Grey answers quickly. “She never met her. I told her that woman was bad news and to stay away from her.”
“How do you know she was bad news? You told me earlier when I came by the first time you never met her.” Lucas is serious, which makes Grey uneasy.
“Rumors,” he lies. “People talk around here.”
Lucas nods and returns his attention to me. “Rachel, did you ever meet Gia Briggs?”
“I told you she didn’t.”
“Will you let her answer the question, please?”
Both of them are quiet, staring each other down. Grey backs down once again, swallows hard, and looks down at the floor.
“No, I never met her,” I answer softly.
“I was told she went to a meeting for the Ladies of Tudor Estates last week on Monday. Did you see her there?”
�
��I wasn’t in attendance.” I wish I could be really honest and tell him I’m not allowed to go to those meetings.
“Did you see Gia go to the Montgomery’s house when she attempted to set the fire?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Alright,” Lucas says as he closes his notepad. “That’s it. Harmless, right? Thank you, Rachel.”
“Yeah, harmless,” Grey says with a phony laugh.
I go back to the table and sit down. Grey walks Lucas to the door. I want to leave with him, to break free of this prison, but I can’t.
My husband returns to the table. His food has gotten cold, and it takes me only a minute to get him a fresh plate. As soon as I set it down in front of him, Grey grabs hold of my wrist. I don’t snatch away because it’ll only get him angry. I try really hard every day to make him somewhat happy, but there are times when I really don’t give a shit how he feels. And I do suffer the consequences.
“Did you go to that meeting on Monday, Rachel?” he asks, glaring up at me.
“No, I was here. You were home with me.”
“Oh.” Grey releases his grip.
I think he just wants an excuse to hit me, and I just took it away. I take my seat. Without a word of thanks or sorry, which is normal, Grey begins on his dinner again.
“If Lucas comes by again when I’m not here, do not let him in the house.”
That goes without saying. I’m really not allowed to let anyone in the house at all.
He sips on his drink and says, “How did it go with Brennan? Any problems I need to know about?”
The new subject makes me uncomfortable. I’ll never speak on my time with johns to my husband. “No problems.”
Grey looks at me, as if he’s inspecting me for damage. If there’s any, it’s because of him, not Brennan.
“I always want to know, Rachel. You can tell me. I won’t get mad at you.” He’s lying. He will get mad.
“I know.”
After he finishes eating, Grey wipes his mouth and checks his watch. He gets up from the table and goes down the hallway to the garage. Grey always leaves without telling me where he’s going, and I never ask. It makes my existence easier.
Chapter Five
I’m up early the next morning, fixing Grey’s breakfast. Bacon not too crispy, eggs a little soggy, buttered potato bread, and mocha coffee. If he’s not the most spoiled man on the planet, then he’s really close. He eats just as meticulously as he talks. Crumbs wiped from his mouth after every bite. Clothes are immaculate just like they were before he sat down. Dishes are stacked neatly on the placemat, but there are times when the food is not to his liking and ends up on the floor.
The entire house fits his personality, actually. As big as it is, there’s minimal furniture. Not that every penny he makes goes into the mortgage, it’s just that Grey likes a very bright, spacious home without the fluff and knickknacks that gives a home character. If I had a choice in the decoration, I’d have colorful sofas and chairs, throw pillows, walls painted anything but eggshell ivory, and carpet on every floor. This place has wood floors throughout, white sofas, chairs, and bedspreads. All of my tables are wood and somewhat matches the floors. The whole bland design makes the house impersonal to the point I can’t stand it, but I keep the house that way in order to save myself grief. And I keep it clean like a madwoman allergic to dirt. I dust every day. I sweep and mop. I do a walk around looking for smudges on the walls and crooked pictures. I wipe down the windows once a week and clean the kitchen and bathrooms daily. It’s a maddening process that I grow sick of, but it must be done.
By eight in the morning, Grey is getting ready to leave. The last thing he does is put on a tie; the one ritual that makes me happy. Means he’ll be at work and away from me for most of the day.
Grey teaches computer science at a private college in Richmond Hill, Georgia, on Tuesdays and Thursdays in the morning, and he owns and operates a software company in Savannah. Grey is very intelligent. He went to MIT and graduated close to the top of his class ten years ago. He didn’t start off in his studied field once he left school. Grey decided to be a police officer. He spent two years on the Savannah Police Department. Didn’t like what he called the menial routine of serving the public, and with no respect, horrible pay according to Grey’s standards, and no reward for a job well done, he discovered his dream of being a cop wasn’t worth it. He went back to college, earned another degree in mathematics, eventually created two apps that made him millions, and that’s when he started the present software company he’s running today. The driving force for the higher education was not to better himself. Grey is hungry for every dollar he can get and power, and if he could and wouldn’t have a guilty conscience, he wouldn’t be paying for the livelihood of his brothers and sister. He’d let them all starve.
“Are you going by Jack’s house today?” he asks while squeezing the knot to his tie. We are in the hallway, standing in front of the wall mirror.
“Yes,” I reply.
The adjustments of cufflinks and sleeves are next. “If he asks you about Jaleesa, you need to keep your mouth shut. What happened yesterday has nothing to do with you.”
“I won’t say a word.”
Grey finishes his primping and turns to me. “Tonight is Mr. Lewis.”
I try not to roll my eyes, but I do, anyway. Sam Lewis is a millionaire, who thinks the world should stop and listen to his big mouth every single time it opens. I can’t even begin to think about him much less deal with him.
“Can you just tell him I’m not feeling well?”
“He’s going to pay me over a grand,” Grey says. “I’ve never gotten that much for you before, and you’re going to keep the date.”
Hearing him tell me the price tag on my body makes my face burn. I muster a smile to hide the anger.
“I’ll be taking you tonight. Andrew has someplace to go. Be ready at six. The new black lingerie set is what you need to wear.”
“Okay,” I reply with sad resolve.
Grey takes long strides towards the garage. Eventually, the car starts. The humming motor of the garage door whines. The car backs out. I wait a whole minute before making my move. I even watch the clock in the living room to ensure the second hand does a full rotation.
Time is up. I rush to the bedroom to open my jewelry box. Inside the bottom drawer is a diamond necklace that Grey gave me on our first wedding anniversary. I would rather he gave me stationery or written a poem, since it was our first, but Grey likes to go all the way in anything he does. It’s very lovely, precious diamonds and pure silver, but I never wear it. I remove the necklace carefully and the false bottom. That’s where I keep my second cell phone, the one that Grey doesn’t know about. I keep it there because the stationary security camera in our bedroom does not have a view of the dresser. It’s always focused towards the bed and window. I keep the phone on silent and charged inside the jewelry box with the chord going out the back and under the mirror on the dresser. It’s almost like hiding it in plain sight. I check the phone whenever Grey isn’t home. I’m too scared to take it with me or leave it in my purse because he’ll find it. Lord help me if he ever finds it.
I’m hoping that Russell Wolfe has called me. He lives directly across the street, and he’s truly the man I’m in love with. Unfortunately for me, he’s married, has a nineteen year old son, and has no plans of leaving his family. He’s made it known from the very beginning when we secretly started seeing each other. Yet and still, I hang on to hope that he’ll change his mind. I feel like Russell is my last chance of getting out of this marriage.
I call him. He doesn’t answer. I try him two more times, and each time I get voicemail. I don’t leave a message. There’s a chance that Tiffany, Russell’s wife, will hear it, and then I’ll have major problems. That woman is seriously crazy. I’ve seen her literally run Rocco’s girlfriends out of her house, while they were naked, after catching them fucking her son in her house. Tiffany doesn’t care what people t
hink or say about her. She will handle whatever problems she has not only privately but very publicly, and she has no shame about it. I took a huge chance sleeping with her husband. Thank goodness she never found out. It’s bad enough that Grey did.
I try the number one last time, and to my surprise, the line is picked up.
“Hello!” I remark. “Russell?”
“He’s not here. Can I take a message?” A man’s voice. It’s Rocco, Russell’s son.
“Ah, no,” I stammer. “Where is he?”
“Don’t know. Who is this?”
“Nobody.” I hang up.
Right when I return the phone to its hiding place, it lights up. Rocco is calling back. I should have never spoken to him. I replace the false bottom back over it. I’m so discouraged by everything that’s going on, and the fact that Russell is not answering my calls only makes me feel worse. I decide to just take a shower and go take care of what I need to before Grey calls and starts asking questions.
Chapter Six
Leaving out of my house isn’t going to be simple. Natasha Mathis, my neighbor from up the street, is standing in the middle of the sidewalk, blocking my driveway. And she’s waving me down. I can’t wait to hear what she has to say to me. I’m probably going to be pissed off when the conversation is over.
One of the things I do as much as I can is keep my distance from the Ladies of Tudor Estates. They are the biggest busybodies, and they work extra hard to be noticed and to be plastered on the society pages in Savannah’s newspapers. When they get together, it’s to talk about others they don’t like, to put down those they hate, and to build themselves up at the expense of the ones they feel is unworthy. In the center of it all is Charli Love and Joslyn Montgomery. I’m sure the reason why Gia Briggs tried to burn down Joslyn’s house is because Joslyn was trying to burn Gia socially. And whereas the attempt to kill the Montgomery family doesn’t by any means excuse what Gia Briggs did, I’m sure she felt it was justified, considering the extremes in which Joslyn was and is willing to take things. I just keep my distance from them all. I don’t go to meetings. I don’t spread rumors. I’m not a part of anyone’s clique or circle. I have my problems that consumes every minute of my waking day and sleeping nights, and if I was out there trying to be a socialite, those problems would be in the public eye for criticism and scrutiny. And Grey’s reaction? Lord, I can’t even think about it.
Rachel (Women of Privilege Book 2) Page 2
