Her mother didn’t have any retirement savings, and by the time Wayne stopped bothering to even pretend he was a remotely decent person, Josie didn’t feel like she had any choice but to do what he said for fear of what would happen to her mother if she left him.
Later, when she started volunteering at Ruth’s House, she found out this story was so common, it would have been a cliché if it hadn’t been happening to women across the country every day. Intake after intake told her the same tale: a guy who seemed like a fairytale come true at first only to morph into a cruel task master. These men would insist on getting them pregnant as soon as possible or setting up a beloved relative in a nice place, only to eventually use their loved ones against them. Many men had threatened to take their abused wives’ children away, and Wayne wasn’t the first asshole to threaten to put a parent out on the street.
After Josie finished shopping, she’d used the store’s ATM to withdraw some “walking around” money, only to discover her bank account had gone from three to five digits. She stared at her new balance, which was more than she could have made in a year doing domestic work. It was enough to keep the shelter open for the next six months at least with money leftover for her to start at UAB in the spring.
The money represented a fresh start, but it also represented what was really going on between her and Beau. As sweet as that scene had been this morning, she wasn’t his girlfriend, she was his kept woman. And that was all she’d ever be to him—something he’d bought and paid for.
Josie had come straight back from the grocery store, like Beau had told her to, but she had assured herself she wasn’t under his thumb the way she’d been under Wayne’s. She’d prove it by going to the shelter that night.
And if Beau tried to stop her, she’d remind him about the terms they’d agreed to. But when she’d crawled into bed naked with him after his appointment, it had been more than she’d expected.
She hadn’t been surprised he hadn’t wanted to talk about his appointment with the UAB neurosurgeon. But then he hadn’t let her finish the blow-job that had been meant to take his mind off of it.
Why had he insisted on coming inside of her, like he really did care about her and wasn’t just interested in having a play-thing until he could get back to his groupies in L.A.? Why had he held on to her like that when they came together, like he was trying to crawl inside of her, so they could be bound in the moment forever?
And why had he looked so peaceful, when she crept out of bed and arranged for Mac to come over? Like sex with her hadn’t just been a distraction, but also a healing balm for the wound he’d received that day.
“Josie? Josie? Please report to the front desk!” Nancy’s young voice sounded frantic over the intercom and it was enough to snap her out of her Beau meditation.
She threw down the sheets she’d been folding and ran to the reception area.
“What’s up?” she said to the girl, who was ducked below the window, obviously hiding from whoever was out there. She’d dropped the metal curtain down, but that wasn’t enough to keep the sound of someone shouting, “Hey! Hey!” and banging so hard on the window the curtain rattled.
“There’s a guy out there who says his wife is here. I think he’s drunk.”
They both jumped when a fresh round of bangs sounded on the window. “Hey! I know you’re in there! Open up!”
“And there’s a new intake out there with him. He must have followed her in.”
“Did you call Curtis?”
“He’s still dealing with the guy from earlier.”
Josie cursed. This was what Sam referred to as a pile up and it was also the reason they’d wanted more than one security guard for the shelter for some time now. The problem with abusive husbands was they weren’t dumb. On big intake nights, Ruth’s House could usually count on at least one husband or boyfriend figuring out his wife or girlfriend was at Ruth’s House and creating a ruckus until Curtis threatened them with jail time. Then if they didn’t go away, Curtis would cuff them and take them to the security trailer, which sat behind Ruth’s House until the police showed up.
However, if another husband showed up while Curtis was in the security trailer, and managed to get past the first set of doors, usually by sneaking in behind a possible intake, that was what Sam called a “pile-up.”
Josie didn’t know what was scarier, that the situation happened enough for Sam to have a nickname for it or that it was happening right now.
“Did you call Sam? She’ll know what to do.”
“She’s in deep process with that blonde and her kids.” Nancy said. “But I can call her on the intercom if you think I should.”
Deep process meant the woman wasn’t sure if she could leave her abusive husband yet, so Sam had commanded they not be bothered while she tried to convince the woman to make a decision that could save both her and her children’s lives.
Josie shook her head. “No, let me see if I can handle it.”
Taking a deep breath, she walked up to the window and yanked open the curtain. “Sir! Our security guard will be back any moment now, so I suggest you stop banging on this glass and get out of here…”
She trailed off when she saw the person on the other side of the glass. It was Beau’ high school football buddy, Mike Lancer! About fifty pounds heavier, and from the look of his red drunk face, about twelve years meaner, but it was unmistakably him, nonetheless.
He slammed his hand against the window. “Josie Witherspoon. What the hell are you doing here? Do you have my wife and kids back there?”
The willowy blonde with two kids. Mike Lancer was the abusive husband they’d come here to escape.
“I- I don’t know who you’re talking about,” she said, falling back on shelter protocol.
“I know she’s back there. Who the hell do you think you are?!”
“Sir, I’m asking you to leave now,” she said, using her best stern voice.
“You don’t think I know why you’re back in town? Probably servicing Beau like you did back in high school when you let him ‘tap that ass’ as you people like to say.”
He banged on the glass so hard, the whole wall seemed to rattle.
“You’re nothing but a whore!” he yelled. “And you’re lucky you’re behind that glass, because if you were out here, I’d teach you exactly what happens to little whores who go sticking their noses where they don’t belong!”