3rd Degree

Chapter 52

JILL HAD IT ALL planned out. And in her mind, it was going well.

She had come home early and prepared one of Steve's favorite meals, coq au vin. In truth, other than half a dozen kinds of eggs, it was the only thing she knew how to cook - or at least that she was confident about.

Maybe tonight they could talk about how to proceed. She had the name of a therapist that a friend had given her and Steve had promised he would actually go this time.

She had vegetables simmering in the pan and was about to add wine when Steve came home. But when he walked up the stairs, he seemed to look right through her. “Look at us,” he said. “You'd think we were an ad for domestic bliss.”

“Trying,” Jill said. She was wearing pressed jeans and a pink V-necked T-shirt, and she had her hair down the way he liked it.

“Just one thing wrong.” Steve tossed his newspaper down. “I'm going out.”

Jill felt her stomach sink. “Why? Look at me, Steve. I've gone to a lot of trouble.”

“Frank needs to bounce a proposal off me.” Steve reached across to a fruit basket and took a peach. There was a part of him that seemed almost to be gloating, amused that he'd ruined the evening.

“Can't you see Frank at the office tomorrow? I told you, there was something I needed to talk about. You said okay. I've got all this food.”

He took a bite out of the peach and laughed. “You break one night before eight and get it in your head to play Alice on The Brady Bunch, and I'm the one blowing the script?”

“It's not a script, Steve.”

“You wanna talk” - he sucked out another bite of the peach - “go ahead. In case you've forgotten, it's still my check that pays for those Manolo Blahniks. The market the way it is these days, the only thing scarcer than the Ice Queen with an urge to have sex is a promising deal. Given the odds, I'll throw in with the deal.”

“That was really cruel.” Jill glared at him. She was deter-mined to hold herself together. “I was trying to do something nice.”

“It is nice.” Steve shrugged, took another bite. “And if you hurry, you might still catch one of your girlfriends to share this special moment with you.”

She saw herself reflected in the window, suddenly feeling ridiculous. “You're an incredible bastard.”

“Aw...” Steve whined.

Jill flung the spatula down, grease splattering over the counter.

“That's a five-thousand-dollar slab of limestone you're redecorating there,” Steve said.

“Goddamn you,” Jill cried, her eyes starting to well up with tears. “Look what I'm trying to do for you.” Everything had fallen apart. What was she trying to hold on to anyway?

“You belittle me. You criticize. You make me feel like crap. You want to walk out that door, go.... Get out of my life. Everyone thinks I'm crazy for wanting to keep this together anyway.”

“Everyone...” She saw the venom in his eyes, the switch suddenly tripped. He grabbed her by the arm and squeezed it hard, forcing Jill down to the floor. “You let those bitches run your life. I run your life. Me, Jill...”

Jill held back more tears. “You're gone, Steve. It's over!”

“It's over when I say it's over,” he said, hovering close to her face. “When I make your life so miserable, you beg me to leave. And I will, Jill. Until then, this is the way it is. It's not over, honeybuns.... Things are just starting to warm up.”

“Get out,” she said, and pulled away from him.

He cocked his fist, but she didn't even flinch. Not this time. Not even a blink. Steve moved fast, as though he was going to strike, and Jill just held her ground. “Get out, Steve,” she seethed again.

The blood seemed to drain from Steve's face. “My plea-sure,” he said, backing away. He picked up another peach from the basket and rubbed it against his shirt. He tossed a last smirk toward the messy stove.

“Be sure and save the leftovers.”

As soon as she heard the door close downstairs, Jill broke into tears. That was it! She didn't know if she should call Claire or Lindsay. There was something she had to do first. She pulled the Yellow Pages out of a kitchen cabinet and paged through them, frantically dialing the first number she found.

Her hand was trembling, but this time there was no turn-ing back. Answer, someone... please!

“Thank God,” she said when a voice finally did.

“Safe-More Locksmiths...”

“You do emergencies?” Jill asked, resolve mixed with her tears. “I need someone over here now.”