Behind Closed Doors Read Online Free Page A

red cent to pay for a car she hardly drove in the first place.
    By now, she felt a sticky moisture pouring down from her underarms. She was angrier than she thought. It felt like it was one hundred degrees, but she knew that was far from possible for Schaumburg, Illinois. As a matter of fact, during the month of April, those living in the Chicago area were lucky if the temperature even hit seventy.
    Karen hurried out of the master bedroom, into the hallway, and down the open staircase. Today she wishedthey had bought that ranch-style house down the street instead of this two-story, because by the time she’d stepped on the bottom stair, the alarm system was already going off and John was inside. She had wanted to be at the back door right when he opened it, but getting down the stairs had caused her a short delay.
    She proceeded through the great room with a highly accelerated walk and then charged into the dining room. When she snapped on the light, John was standing at the other end of the glass dining room table and reaching toward the 15-button, ADT keypad, and from the astonished look on his face, she could tell he hadn’t expected to see her standing there.
    For a split second, she’d forgotten how upset she was, because the man was looking as gorgeous as ever. Like her, he had jet-black hair, a smooth, chocolate complexion, and he was tall. Six one, to be exact. His black Guess jeans, complimented by a black Guess sweatshirt, were perfectly starched, and he looked as though he should have been in this month’s—no, every—issue of GQ magazine.
    But so much for good looks. “Where the hell have you been?” she screamed.
    At first there was silence, but from the look on his wife’s face, John knew he had better respond with something. Even if it was a lie. “I drove into Rockford to visit my mother, and then met a couple of the guys from work for a drink.”
    “You know damn well you’re telling a got-damn lie.You’ve had your ass at the horse track all night, and now you’re trying to pretend you’ve been somewhere else? Hell, you must think I’m stupid or something.”
    “I did stop by—”
    Karen stepped closer to John and cut his explanation off. “Stop the bullshit, John. All I want to know is how much fuckin’ money you lost this time?” She couldn’t believe it. She’d just used that F word again. This was definitely going too far. This man was making her lose all of her religion, and it was going to have to cease. Her grandmother was probably doing a three-sixty turn in her grave by now, and her mother would go straight into cardiac arrest if she ever heard a word like that slipping out of her daughter’s mouth. “One hundred, two hundred, three hundred, four hundred?”
    John just stared at her and kept shifting his weight from one foot to the other. How was he going to tell her he’d lost his entire paycheck? He was better off dead.
    “How much?”
    “All of it.” He couldn’t believe he’d just said that shit. While driving home, he had decided to tell Karen that he’d only lost one hundred dollars. He was planning to borrow the other seven hundred and some odd dollars from his brother, Derrick, tomorrow. Derrick had helped him out when he’d lost his entire paycheck three weeks ago, but fortunately for him, Karen was unaware of it.
    “Over eight hundred dollars? I just knew it. I hope you realize I’m not going to keep putting up with this shit? How in the hell do you plan on paying the note on thatBMW next Wednesday? Did you think about that? How in the hell do you think we’re going to make ends meet if you keep taking your irresponsible ass to the track every Friday? I’m sick of this shit, and to tell you the truth, I’m sick of you. You need to grow up. I don’t know what your problem is, but you’d better fix it or you’re getting the hell out of here. I can do bad by myself, so I sure as hell don’t need some gambling addict like you helping me. This shit is so