The O'Connells Box Set

Chapter 18

Reine was sweaty from the shower when she heard a clatter upstairs, the floor squeaking.

She took in the dingy darkness of the tiny suite she now called home. She could smell the mustiness, the mold. The carpet on the floor had been there decades, if not longer, and the old sofa had springs popping out of it, but the small bed in the tiny bedroom was at least better than the thin mattress she’d slept on behind bars for nearly three years.

She glanced at the small, dated metal insert of a shower as she dried herself off and pulled on a clean pair of underwear, one of her only two pairs. She was already planning how to spend her first paycheck on the few essentials she had to have along with the weekly rent she had to pay for this suite. It was badly furnished, but it was a start to put her life back together.

Then she heard the bang on the door.

“Reine Colbert, open up!”

Her stomach plummeted, because his voice was one she’d never forget.

“Just a minute,” she called out, feeling the thud in her chest. She quickly pulled on the same white and blue T-shirt and jeans she’d just stepped out of, then tossed the thin wet towel onto the neatly made bed. She hurried to the door barefoot and flicked the deadbolt, then pulled open the door and took in the fat face and shaggy hair of a man she knew could and would make her life a living hell.

“I didn’t know you were coming. I was just…”

He didn’t wait for her to ask him in. He pushed past her, bumping her hard and forcing her back. She hoped the people upstairs weren’t listening to what was going on. It was humiliating. She was still holding the door, pressed now against the wall, watching the man move through her place, looking around, pulling open a cupboard in the kitchen, a drawer. His dingy dress shirt was tucked into brown tweed slacks.

“This is how it works, sweetheart,” he said. “I show up anytime I want. You have any drugs in here, alcohol, guns? You go to work? You been following all the rules?” He didn’t look at her as he pulled open her tiny mini fridge, which was empty except for the half sandwich she’d picked up from the reduced section in the grocery store, dated with an expiry of the day before. That had made it cheap, costing only one dollar.

Reine pulled her arms over her chest, knowing her b*a was still on the bed, and he was walking into her bedroom, looking around. “I don’t have drugs, alcohol, or a g*n, and yes, I did go to work. I just got home, in fact.”

She could hear him still in her bedroom, pulling open the drawers of the only dresser. She walked the few steps to the bedroom in the cramped suite, seeing her covers now tossed on the floor and the mattress shoved off as if he thought she was hiding something under it. She took in the mess and the way his gaze lingered on her now.

Something was wrong. Her heart hammered as she stood in the doorway, wanting to yell at this jerk, but that would be a mistake.

“You remember all the rules you’re to follow?” he said as he stopped right in front of her.

She figured this was what he did, a fat slob who had a few inches on her and at least a hundred and fifty pounds. His breath was warm and foul, and she had to fight the urge to step back.

“Of course I do, and I’ve stayed out of trouble. I’ve gone to work and come home.”

She was still choked over the fact that Mrs. Hirst’s daughter hadn’t returned until nearly four, after Reine had run after the old woman when she walked out of the house. By the time she’d made it back to the office, Pete had been gone for the day, so the scrubs were still a wash.

Her parole officer was still standing there with a look in his eyes that absolutely terrified her. Empathy was something she didn’t believe he could feel. Maybe it was just an illusion, something she’d once believed existed in people.

“Didn’t go anywhere else?” he said, cold, unfeeling.

The knot twisted in her stomach as he let his gaze linger and drag down over her body intimately, all the way to her bare toes. She pressed her hand to her throat, her shirt barely covering her upper chest, feeling the way her heart was hammering. What did he know? This had to be a trick, because she was always looking over her shoulder, something that had stuck with her from being in hell.

“As I said, I went to work. I just got home. Maybe you could do something about the uniform I’m supposed to have for work. My boss hasn’t provided it.”

He walked into her tiny boxlike bathroom, which was still steamy from the shower, with no ventilation. She knew mold was in and under everything, which was why it smelled so bad. He pulled open the empty cabinet above the sink and made a face, then walked back out, and she took in the mess he’d made, wondering if this was her life now. For how many more years? Five.

“You lying to me about anything there, Reine?” He lifted his hand to touch the edge of her sleeve, running his finger over her arm and up.

She had to fight past the revulsion and look away, reminding herself to breathe in, breathe out. Just get through this. “I’ve stayed out of trouble. Look, what else do you want? I’m just trying to live, to get my life together. I’m a good person.”

Just get through this.He dropped his hand and stepped back, then let out a creepy rough laugh. “Let’s get something straight here, honey. You’re just another convict who’s one step from being back in a cage for life. And there’s nothing different about you. Once a criminal, always a criminal. You women just find more trouble, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that every one of you who’s sat on the other side of my desk has been the same. You’re in for something, and when you get out, you’re hooking up with some guy, selling his drugs, stealing and dealing, or you walk into a*****e and take something, or I find you on a street corner, selling yourself in the s*x trade, just another p********e. Or you’re strung out, get yourself fired, and can’t hold down another job. I’ve seen it before. You think you’re sneaky with your lying, thinking I don’t know what you’re doing. But see, I’ve been doing this for so long that I already know where you’re headed, and it took you only four days.”

She stared in horror. Could he see her sweating? Her heart was hammering. The way he talked down to her, she wondered whether it was humanly possible to feel even less than she did. “I didn’t go to jail for any of that.”

“Oh, I know exactly why you went to jail, Reine Colbert,” he said sharply. “I have half a mind to revoke your parole, and believe me, I can do that anytime I want with just a snap of my fingers.” He lifted his hand and snapped his finger right in her face as if to make a point.

She felt beads of sweat on her forehead. He knew something.

“You forget the rule of staying away from the sheriff, Marcus O’Connell, and the O’Connell family?” he said. “Then there’s Eva. You’re not allowed to see her. Did you or did you not stop by the sheriff’s place and cause a ruckus?”

Her heart thudded. She could see Eva right in front of her, being snatched away. Damn Marcus O’Connell! Why had she thought he wouldn’t yank the rug out from under her? He was the same as everyone, cruel.

“I don’t know what you heard, but I didn’t cause a ruckus, as you call it. I did go to Marcus O’Connell’s to let him know I’m fighting for my daughter. I’m going to get her back. I put him on notice…”

“Staying away means you don’t visit,” he said. “You don’t show up at the door. You don’t serve anyone with notice. You don’t talk to them or walk down the same street as them. There are no warnings in probation. If you screw up and don’t follow the rules, there are no second chances. I don’t know, Reine. I think your time is up. And don’t give me that wide, doe-eyed innocent look. There’s nothing innocent about you. You were convicted. Your life is mine, and you’re not free to do anything.”

“Please, she’s my daughter…”

He shook his head. “No, she’s not.”

Then he pulled his cell phone from his pocket, and all she could see was everything being yanked from her as she stared out from behind bars again. She couldn’t do it. She reached out to him as he put his cell phone to his ear. This was it for her.

“Please, no! Don’t call. I didn’t do anything wrong…”

The moment her hand touched his wrist, his hand flew out, and he backhanded her so hard, hitting the side of her face, her jaw, knocking her head back and to the side. She fell back onto the floor, numb, her head spinning, and then she tasted something metallic, blood…

She realized he was staring down at her, standing over her. Everything in that moment felt surreal as she lifted her hand to her mouth, then pulled it away, seeing blood. His was holding his cell phone and staring at her with the lack of feeling she’d become too used to. She just lay there on the dirty hard floor, knowing she was bleeding, feeling the ache of her jaw, her cheek. As he fisted the hand he’d hit her with, she could see the rage in his face.

“Get up,” he said. “Go clean yourself up. You stay away from the O’Connells and your daughter. You keep your job, you keep your nose clean, and you show up for work and make sure no one takes issue with you for anything. No complaints that you’re stirring up trouble anywhere. And you keep your head down and your mouth shut! Do you hear me?”

The way he stood over her, she knew he was untouchable.

She sat up slowly. “I understand,” she said, knowing he could do this to her again and again and there was nothing she could do about it. Worse, she knew no one would believe her, and if they did, her only justice would be a one-way ticket back to jail.

“I don’t know why you women do this,” he said. “It’s like you’re born this way, too stupid to think, as if you really believe you can lie to me and I won’t find out. The next time I show up, it will be with the sheriff’s office, and you’ll be cuffed and hauled back and shoved in a cage to serve out your full sentence. Could still, because if the sheriff wants to add nuisance charges against you, he’ll have that right and you’ll serve additional time. Do you understand these rules I’ve laid out to you?” The way he spoke, she knew the people who lived upstairs would be able to hear everything.

She forced herself to nod, feeling the tightness and ache in her jaw, fighting the urge to lift her hand to her face. “Yes.”

He breathed out heavily as he stood over her, and she knew he expected her to stay down. She could feel his anger and what she thought was disgust for her. His nostrils flared as he breathed in and out, pumping his fist, the other still gripping his cell phone. He tucked it into his jacket, gave one last look around, and said, “Clean up this mess.” Then he was at her door, pulling it open. Without looking back, he said, “And if I hear you’ve been telling stories about me, remember you’re just an ex-con. No one will believe you. Me walking out of here now is me giving you a second chance. Don’t blow it.”

He stepped out and pulled the door closed, and Reine sat there on the floor, fisting her shirt, unable to fight the overwhelming grief that rose up in her. She choked on a sob and cried in silence, realizing Marcus O’Connell was just another man who was kicking her to the curb.

He may have won this round, but next time, she’d be smarter. She was stupid to think she could just walk up to his door.

No, she wouldn’t make the same mistake again.