CHAPTER 30

“That was beautiful!” Mike panted. “Is it true what you said?”

“Is what true?” Karen asked.

“Do you really have all night?”

She frowned. “I’m not sure… Jim probably won’t be home for days, but I can’t be sure.”

“Then how late can you stay?”

“I told Phillip’s nanny I wouldn’t be later than eleven.”

Mike displayed an evil grin. “Great! Then we have time for the second half.”

Karen smiled and kissed the end of Mike’s nose. “If it’s half as good as the first half, it’ll be great.” She lifted her leg over his thigh and pressed her body against his.

Thirty minutes later, Mike stared once more into Karen’s eyes. “Do you know what would make me the happiest man alive?” he asked.

“What?”

“Living with you.”

She closed her eyes and exhaled. “I would do that in a heartbeat, but it’s impossible.”

“Nothing’s impossible if you want it badly enough.”

Karen stared at the ceiling. “I want it, but Jim is a jealous, vindictive, selfish man. He said he would kill me if I ever tried to take Phillip away.”

Mike’s body stiffened as reality invaded his happy dream. In spite of his desire, he had no right to place her life in jeopardy, or to ask her to choose between her son and himself. If her assessment of Servito’s temperament was correct, a permanent reunion with her would have unthinkable consequences.

“Dammit!” he declared, pounding a fist into his pillow. “I’m not going to spend one more second of my life without you. Are you the slightest bit interested in living the rest of your life with that man?”

Karen looked into Mike’s eyes and placed her hand on top of his fist. “If I could, I’d leave Jim and move in here tonight. I told you, King. You’re the only man I ever loved.”

Mike experienced an enormous surge of confidence. “Then we’ve got to think of a way of finessing the transition without getting you killed.”

“There’s only one way… we have to bring Jim down. What can he do if he’s in jail?”

Mike mulled over the possibilities as Karen explained, becoming more enthusiastic with every second.

“I’m his wife. I could slip through the cracks in his business. Maybe I can dig up enough dirt to put him in prison.” She kissed Mike’s chest and smiled. “He’ll never know. Besides, he couldn’t make my life any more miserable than it is.”

Mike shook his head. “I still don’t like it. If your husband really is a killer—”

Karen placed her fingers against Mike’s lips. “I’ve made up my mind, and there isn’t a thing you can do to stop me,” she said, her elegant chin protruding.

Shortly after eleven, Mike eased his car to a stop a full block away from Karen’s apartment building. She moved closer to him. “I’ll never forget tonight,” she said. “I’m alive again.”

He stiffened. “I want you to call me the second you sense any danger, or the second you’ve found something.

“How about the second I want you again?”

“That too,” Mike replied with a grin. He kissed her one last time.

Karen entered her apartment and was startled to see her husband standing in front of the television set in the den. He turned the set off and marched toward her. “Where were you tonight?” he asked with a suspicious glare.

“Visiting one of the out-patients at the hospital. She had to be admitted today.”

“Until eleven forty-five?”

Karen concluded that her best defense would be a strong offense. “Until eleven forty-five,” she confirmed, defiantly returning his piercing stare. “Where have you been? I haven’t seen or heard from you for two days.”

“I don’t have to justify myself to you, ever! I pay the bills around here and you never question that!”

Terrified by her husband’s threatening stare, Karen turned, walked to the master bedroom, and closed the door. She closed her eyes, hoping the confrontation was over. Seconds later, the door flung open and slammed against the inside wall with a loud thud. “I haven’t finished talking to you!” Servito shouted, lunging toward her. He pushed her to the bed and seized the front collar of her blouse, jerking downward, ripping it from top to bottom.

Karen frantically grabbed at the shreds of her blouse with trembling hands.

He squinted and clenched his teeth, then slapped her face as hard as he could. “Don’t you ever walk away from me like that again, bitch!” he shouted, his right knee spreading her legs and pressing hard against her crotch. He held her arms against the bed above her head with a vise-like grip, and then lowered his mouth toward hers.

Fear gripped her. His breath reeked of alcohol. She had never seen such rage in his steel-gray eyes.

He kissed her savagely, inserting his tongue and squeezing her left breast until she cried out. Then he sat upright, releasing her arms. “I don’t want to hurt you, darling,” he said with a smirk that sickened her. “I just want you to appreciate that I still call the shots in this marriage. Do we understand each other?”

She responded by turning to face the wall.

“Answer me!” he demanded, his right fist clenched.

“Yes,” she whispered, her eyes closed, her reddened and still throbbing cheek pressed against the pillow.

“Good. I have to go to a business meeting. You have a nice sleep.”

She waited until she heard the front door click closed, then climbed from the bed and walked to Phillip’s bedroom. She tiptoed to his bedside and stared at her son in silence for almost a minute. “I’m going to change your life, Phillip… I promise you that with all my heart,” she whispered.

THE BRIDGE TO CARACAS: A DOUGLASS CRIME AND ROMANCE THRILLER SERIES
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