One Way Or Another You Will Pay (20 page)

“We’ll
see about that,” Bear says.

She
looks at me. “Tom doesn’t want to come after you. He just wants Warren. He misses his kids so much. That’s why he wanted to take Savannah away. She was his Sasha, the baby you killed. He is trying to rebuild his family.”

I
peer at Ingrid. “Take Savannah …away?”

“I
wasn’t supposed to return Savannah. I was surprised when he suddenly asked me to. Tom planned to take Savannah out of the country using Sasha’s identity. My Sasha.”

“Oh
my God!” The thought of Savannah in Tom’s hands is too much for me to handle, I jerk to my feet and tap my head with my palms.

“Let’s
end it here,” Bear says, looking at me, his brows knitted. It’s clear, he too is shaken by what he’s heard tonight. “Let’s meet tomorrow. We’ll come to you if you want.”

Ingrid
stands up and puts out her hand.

“What?”
Bear asks.

“I
gave you your keys, can I have my phone back?”

He
nods and leaves the room to fetch her phone.

As
he hands her the phone, he says, “Ingrid, I have a question: if Tom misses his kids that much, why isn’t he paying more attention to
your
kids? Your little Warren and Sasha? He has a second chance to be a father, is he taking it? Arena has moved on and so has Warren, but Tom appears to be hankering after what’s no longer his rather than focusing on what he has right now. Don’t you think?”

When
she opens her mouth to answer almost immediately, Bear puts up his hand. “Don’t answer, just think about it, okay?”

When
Ingrid leaves, Bear looks at me. “We have to lure him here and kill him,” he says in a casual voice. “It’s the only way out. He won’t rest until he gets you. I don’t buy that crap about him wanting Warren. He’s coming after you. And probably me.”

After
a long sigh, I nod. “You’re right. He won’t rest.”

“It’s
going to be my pleasure,” Bear says.

Again,
I nod.

“We
have to get those bastards in Lawdy Street too.”

“For
sure!” I say. “For sure.”

Once
again, Tom has cornered us and the only way to win this game he’s hell-bent on winning is to murder him. Freedom for us, that’s the grand prize. A life without Tom means a life without security bars and slam-shut safety doors and high-walls and looking over your shoulder all the time.

Five
years ago, if you had told me that I would be involved in murder, and then plotting to murder for the second time, I would have laughed.

How
things have changed. All thanks to Tom and his long arm.

But
I have no qualms about killing Tom. At least I know my family will be safe.

According
to our plan, Ingrid will go to work as usual and serve out her notice period.

Two
more weeks and she will no longer be employed at Remington.

She
believes Bear will simply apprehend Tom when he comes for Warren, return him to prison, and our lives will go on as usual.

She
has agreed not to alert Tom in any way and hopefully, (I fervently hope) she won’t.

Meanwhile,
our life goes on too. It’s Friday morning. Time to visit Tom and today, I have some serious goading to do. I need to irk him into coming for me.

Before
the kids awake, I get into the shower. A few minutes later, Bear joins me.

The
weird looks he’s shooting my way, tells me something’s on his mind. Probably my visiting Tom. I can tell he’s bothered by it.

“Spill!”
I say, eager to clear the Neutrogena Revitalizing gel-laden air.

“He
wants to fuck you in prison? He said that?

“Bear,
it’s his fantasy,” I say and lather his chest. “That’s all.”

His
eyes narrow.

I
pause with my washing. “What?”

“In
his fucking dreams!”

“Of
course, Bear!” I snap and resume my washing of his chest. “You’re a goddam hairy bear, you know that?” I hand him the sponge and turn my back to him.

He
lathers my back, his moves out of sync as if he’s distracted. “You know what
my
fantasy is?”

“Mm?”

He turns me around to look into my eyes “To fuck
you
in front of him. Give him the fucking closure he needs.”

“We
won that pissing contest, don’t you remember? In his bed, too, Bear.”

“Yeah,
but he was asleep then. Probably put it down to a dream. Now, it’s different. Now!”

“Oh,
Bear,” I say to the shower wall, “aren’t you…like, I mean can’t you be the bigger person here? Pun intend...”

“See,
he took my daughter, he hurt my baby, he came after
me
. Now, I want to take him on man-to-man. Fuck, I so badly want to, Arena!”

I
shake my head and turn to face my husband. Bear might just get his chance to face Tom man-to-man after all.

Even
though it has to be done, I dread that encounter. I just can’t bear the thought of Tom hurting Bear. He’s a dirty fighter, a stealth nutter, you can bet it wouldn’t be a fair fight.

For
a few moments, we stare past each other, each in our own silent reverie. Then, I reach up, kiss his watery lips, and leave the shower.

****

As I go through my closet, searching for something red to wear for Tom, and wondering if I could ever wear red again without thinking about him, the intercom on the outside gates

buzzes.

I peer at the screen. It’s Meredith Simon from across the road. The one who sold us out to the press, accused Bear of being a baby-killer, and then basically kicked us out of her house because of the church? That one.

What
could she want?

The
memories of her unsupportive behavior delivers a fresh batch of bitterness and I press my lips together as I make my way to the front gate.

“I
brought you a pie,” she says, a sheepish look on her face. “Just to say sorry about the …the…” with her free hand, she flexes two fingers in the air, “
misunderstanding
. Can I come in?” She raises the pie at me, all her false teeth showing.

“No,”
I say with my arms across my chest.

Her
smile dips. “Wha…?”

“Take
your pie and shove it!”

“Wha…?’

“I don’t need friends like you who bail out on us the moment things go south.”

She
jerks back, surprise all over her face. “But…but…”

I
wag my index finger at her. “We did a lot for you and your husband, Meredith. Bear has done many repairs around your house, performed umpteen handyman jobs for you over the last three years, took you several times to the airport at 5 in the morning, just so you didn’t have to pay exorbitant cab fees, even invited you over for Christmas when we heard you guys would be spending it …”

“Bygones,
Arena! Let …”

“…alone,
helped you any time you needed help, and you dump us in times of need? No, I no longer want to be your friend so take your pie and piss off.”

Her
jaw falls.

“But…but
Bertie needs Bear’s help with the pergola! He can’t fix it himself. Bear promised to help so Bertie bought all the material!”

“Get
someone from the church to help. The people you needed to consider when you kicked us out of your house.”

“I…I
can’t believe you!”

“Believe
it.”

She
rolls her eyes, then straightens her back. “Well, just for the record, I have to tell you, I have my doubts. Still.”

A
snort escapes me. “I don’t give a shit …”

“You
South Africans, you’re all the same, with your apartheid-loving ways and the way you take over, make this place yours. Hmph! Not to be trusted, I tell you. Will steal your parking space without batting an eyelid. Don’t know why you people don’t stay in your own country.”

I
fling open the gates and step outside.

“Bear
is Australian, you idiot!” I say, grabbing the pie from her hand. To her horror, I throw it on the ground and squish it with my boot. “And, I don’t steal parking spaces!”

“Oh,
my God!” she shrinks from me as if I am going strike her. “You are crazy!”

I
turn and storm back inside my house, feeling really good. Maybe I am a little crazy. You can’t have experienced all that I have, abuse, hardship, the loss of a child, imprisonment, the kidnapping of a second child, having an ex who blackmails you into visiting him, and not go a little crazy.

But,
man, crazy felt good just now! Cathartic.

****

“Why is your hair down?” Tom snaps, his face spasming with disapproval.

I
shrug.

He’s
jumpy today and, of course, I know why. Big plans on the low.

“I’m
wearing red,” I remind him.

He
doesn’t answer

“Why
red?”

“’Cause
it’s the only colour you look good in.”

“Oh.
The
only
colour…”

“It’s
true. But you can be sexy when you want to.”

“Oh?”

He nods. “The men around us, all our friends, I saw the way they looked at you. I knew that they would fuck you if they had a chance.”

“Oh.
And you fed off that?”

He
jerks back. “For sure. I liked men looking at you, wanting you, desiring you, yearning for what Tom has but being unable to touch it, to feel it, to have it. I won hands down when it came to the women around. Hands fucking down. Seriously. Compared to all our friends, you were the best looking wife by far. By very very far. But
I
had a lot to do with it. I mean,
I
kept you in check, kept your weight down, kept your hair looking good, kept your clothes chic and up-to-date… look at you now.” He flinches.

“That’s
your opin…”

“We
were a power couple until you decided to fuck it all up. Yes, you were the problem. You. Not me, I was a good husband. I did my duty and more. I carried our marriage.”

I
let out a long, exasperated sigh.

For
a while, we sit in silence.

He
breaks it first. “I saw you dancing that night in Hornsby. That night after you ran off with my two children so you could fuck around with Dick and Harry. Leave Tom out of it. Tom was dumped along the roadside.”

I
didn’t know he was at the dance that night. It’s chilling to know he was watching me.

“You
were at that crappy fund-raiser with that Asian whore. I watched the men licking their lips as they eyed you like a piece of biltong (similar to beef jerky), watched you dance like no one was looking, hands in the air and …” With his face contorted, he jerks his shoulders around like he’s dancing, “those arseholes throwing drinks at you, hoping to get you drunk so you can add them to the line of blow jobs you were promising to give that night. You showing them your teeth and tits and accepting their cheap beer and whatever, with not a care about being roofied.” His mouth twists with disdain. “Slutty. Fuck, you were a slut. Dirty. Eeeewwww!”

His
words don’t mean a thing. I know what my strengths are. After leaving him, I was able to take stock of me, Arena, and I liked what (and who) I saw. No man is going to tell me differently.

“You
danced like the whore you are, but guess what? I was so turned on. In spite of being mad at you, I got hard.” He chuckles. “I followed you as you walked to your apartment, you know that?”

“No,
I didn’t know that.”

He
nods. “I did. But that hairy, retard, that fucking circus freak, that spiv, he was behind you, watching over you. Fuck, he’s heaps ugly.” A series of chuckles escapes his venomous lips.

“Why
the fuck do you want to be with a retard like him? I mean, he’s so ugly, when he was born, they threw away the baby and kept the placenta.” He slaps the counter as he guffaws, eliciting some curious stares from guards and visitors.