Getting Even

She nods.

“About a week ago. She was heading off to some bible something or other in California.”

“You mean they let her out of the compound in Alabama?”

“Sounded like it was a group trip.”

“When is she gonna realize that those fucking assholes are cult leaders?” Samera shakes her head. “Religious freaks. I can’t stand them.”

“She seems happy.” And that’s the best I can hope for, really. I know she’s had a hard life. Personally, I think she suffered some childhood trauma that’s had her searching for peace ever since. I only talk to my mother once in a while, mostly when she has a moment to call me. She’s thrown herself one hundred percent into this new church family of hers, and she doesn’t have much time for me anymore. It’s just as well. I can only take so much of her fire-and-brimstone talk.

Samera scowls. “Forget Mama. You came to talk about Charles.”

Oh, Samera talks a good game, as if she doesn’t care one bit about our mother, but I know she’s does. And I know she was hurt when my mother cut her out of her life. Yet another person who rejected her the way our father rejected both of us when we were little kids.

But it’s not a subject I want to discuss now, even if I think it’d do Samera good. Instead, I say, “Sexy clothes, huh? You think that will do the trick?”

“Not just sexy. Trampy. And don’t just wear them around the house. Wear them when you leave to hang with your girlfriends. That’ll make Charles wonder who you’re going to meet. Seriously, give guys a little competition and you’ll see how fast they try and get you in bed.”

“You might just be right.” When we were dating, if Charles noticed another guy looking at me, he always held me a little tighter.

“I am right. And you know it, or you wouldn’t be here.”

“I won’t argue with that.”

“Look, sweetie. Lana’s just finished her routine, which means I have to go back and get ready. But you stay and finish your drink. It’s on me.”

We both stand and hug. “I love you, Sammie.” And I do. With all my heart. Regardless of how little we see each other, she’s always in my heart. As her older sister by four years, there’s a part of me that’s very protective of her, even though she’s the one who could probably kick butt to save my ass.

“I love you, too. And one more piece of advice?”

We pull apart. “Sure.”

“Start checking Charles’s clothes. Check his wallet, his car. Everything.”

“Sam—”

“I’m serious. See if that motherfucker’s got phone numbers hidden and a secret stash of condoms. Because a guy’s a guy. If he’s not fucking his wife, then he’s fucking someone else.”