But he was tired. Tired of being afraid, tired of feeling hunted. But mostly tired of missing a girl he never should’ve fallen in love with in the first place.
So he stood in the middle of the family room. Right next to the floral love seat, his hand on Mrs. H.’s favorite crocheted doily.
As the gun appeared in front of him, took aim at his gut.
No more worries, Aidan figured.
He thought of Rachel. She was smiling in his mind. She was holding out her arms to him, and this time, when he took her hands, she didn’t cry.
The gun fired.
Aidan fell to the floor.
Dying took longer than he thought. That made him mad, so at the last moment, he flipped onto his belly, tried to crawl to the phone.
Second shot took him in the back, between the shoulder blades.
Jason turned off his flashlight. He clutched the heavy metal object as a weapon and eased himself carefully toward the rickety attic stairs. The lit hallway provided a pool of illumination spilling across the bedroom floor. He used it as his target, placing his left foot on the top rung of the ladder, then his right. The top step creaked, the attic ladder trembling unsteadily beneath his weight.
Screw it. He slid down in a rush, landing with a solid thud and rolling low into the darkened master bedroom. Then he was up on his feet, preparing to dash into his daughter’s bedroom and fight for her life.
He discovered his wife standing in front of him instead.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
“I don’t understand,” he faltered.
“I know.”
“Are you alive? Is this for real? Where have you been?”
She took the flashlight from him. Belatedly Jason realized that he’d been brandishing it before him, threatening his wife, who, apparently, had just returned from the dead.
She wore all black. Black trousers, black shirt. It wasn’t an outfit he recognized, cheap, ill-fitting. He saw now that there was also a dark baseball cap on the bed. The perfect outfit for stealth. Was she stealing in, or stealing away? Why couldn’t he understand what was going on?
“I saw the news,” she said quietly.
Jason stared at her.
“My father made the five o’clock broadcast, claiming he deserves custody of Ree. I realized then that I had to come back.”
“He claims you’re a liar,” Jason murmured. “Your mother was a fine, upstanding woman, and your father’s only sin was loving his wife more than his daughter.”
“He said
“You’re troubled, have a history of drinking, promiscuity, perhaps multiple abortions.”
She colored, didn’t say a word.
“But your parents were solid. You were just jealous of your mother, then furious about her untimely death. So you ran away from your father, and then… you ran away from me. You left us.” He was surprised, now that he was saying the words out loud, how much they hurt him. “You left me, and you left Ree.”
“I didn’t want to go,” Sandy said immediately. “You have to believe me. Something bad happened. And maybe he didn’t kill me Wednesday night, but it was only a matter of time. If I stayed, if he could find me. I… I didn’t know what to do. It seemed better if I disappeared for a bit. If I was gone, he couldn’t want me anymore. It would make things all right.”
“Who? How? What the hell are you talking about?”
“Shhh.” She took his hands, and the first touch jolted him. He didn’t know if the feel of her fingers against his skin was the best or the worst thing that had ever happened to him. He had wanted her. Prayed for her to come home. Despaired over her return. And now, heaven help him, he wanted to wrap his fingers around the white column of her throat and hurt her as badly as her leaving had hurt him…
She must have seen some of it in his eyes, because her grip on his hands tightened, becoming painful. She urged him closer to the bed, and after a moment, he followed her. They sat on the edge of the mattress, a couple returning to their marriage bed, and still none of it made sense to him.
“Jason, I screwed up.”
“Are you pregnant?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Is it mine?”
“Yes.”
“From… from family vacation?”
“Yes.”
The breath finally left him. His shoulders sagged. He felt bewildered, but less pained. He shrugged off her hands because he had to touch her. This is what he had dreamed of doing, what he had wanted to do, since he’d first heard the news.
He splayed his fingers across the slender expanse of her stomach, seeking some sign of growth. That a little miracle existed here. A real life. One they had made together and-at least on his part-with love.
“You’re still flat,” he murmured.
“Honey, it’s only been four weeks.”
His gaze finally came up. He stared at her, taking in her shadowed blue eyes, gaunt cheekbones. He could see the remains of a bruise above her right temple. A swollen cut on her upper lip. His hands moved on their own, across her stomach to her waist, her shoulders, her arms, her legs. He had to feel each piece of her, to assure himself she was all here, whole, intact, okay. That she was safe.
“I had to learn that you were pregnant from the police. From some sergeant who’s one step away from hanging me.”
“I’m sorry.”
He turned the screws a little tighter. “If they’d arrested me, Ree would’ve become a ward of the state. They would’ve placed her in foster care.”
“I never would’ve let that happen. Jason, please believe me. I knew when I disappeared it might be risky. But I also knew you’d take good care of Ree. You’re the strongest person I know. I never would’ve done this otherwise.”
“Let me be accused of killing my pregnant wife?”
She smiled wanly. “Something like that.”
“Do you hate me?” he whispered.
“No.”
“Is our little family that intolerable?”
“No.”
“Do you love the other man more?”
She hesitated, and he felt that, too, another bruise to nurse in the days and nights to come.
“I thought I did,” she said at last. “But then, I thought my husband was Jason Jones. So I guess we’re both very good at wanting what we can’t have.”
He winced, then forced himself to nod. This is what it came down to in the end. He had started their marriage with a lie, so if she chose to end it with a lie, well, who was he to judge?
He removed his hands from her body. Sat upright, squared his shoulders, steeled himself for what had to come next. “You came back for Ree,” he stated. “So your father can’t have her.”
But Sandra shook her head. She lifted her hand, brushing the moisture from his cheek.
