The Sunday Wife: A Lockdown Thriller

by Adriane Leigh

  I clenched my teeth together, suddenly feeling every part of the fool he made me out to be. “Fuck you, psycho. I can’t believe I almost married you.”

  “Is that what you came here to say?”

  “You’re a stalker! I know you followed me to the bar with Bradley, I know it was you watching in the corner!”

  “I never trusted him.” His words were delivered so nonchalantly they sent a chill down my spine.

  I gnashed my teeth together. “I hope I never see you again.”

  “If you walk out that door, I can’t protect you.” He threatened.

  “The only person I need protecting from is you!”

  A cocky smile flashed across his face. “So naïve.”

  Before I could reach the door, his hand was at my elbow, pressing me into the wall.

  I clutched at his forearm, digging at his fingers as my lungs contracted, desperately seeking air wherever it couldn't be found. Tav was holding me captive and hyperventilation was starting to kick in. I dug into his skin until one of my nails broke, his grip on me unrelenting as he leaned into me with all of his strength to keep me pinned.

  Stars splintered behind my eyelids before a burst of energy sizzled to life and I loosened one leg from his weight and cocked my knee far enough back to drive with all of my mustered strength into his crotch.

  He yelped, gripping tighter for a moment before I nailed him again with my knee and he stumbled back, one arm held out to block me from another assault. I turned, prepared to run for the door when his hand caught my ankle and I fell. Scrambling against the hotel carpet, I crawled to the door and kicked at his form before he hauled me a half a dozen feet across the room, my t-shirt yanking up in the process and leaving a stinging burn from the carpet.

  I kicked and shouted, praying for someone to hear before he flipped me in one motion, twisting my ankle painfully.

  “I didn’t think you had it in you, Frey. I gotta say, I didn’t even think you had it in you to make it off that mountain, but here you are. Fighting for your life, finally.”

  A glint of metal caught the sunlight, blinding me for a moment to his next move.

  “It’s too bad it had to end so badly.” He lifted the handgun in the air, pointing it at my heart and then his temple. “It’s too bad it took you this long to realize I wasn’t your only enemy.”

  His words rattled in my eardrums and I wondered if this was the last sight my mother saw before she took her last breath.

  Tav’s sinister smile on the other end of a gun.

  “Fuck you.” I spit again, dodging between the wide stance of his thighs and then tipping him off balance with all of my might. He landed on the floor and with lightning speed I stomped on the wrist that held the gun until he yelped in pain. I yanked it from his grasp easily, holding it at arm’s length as I backed toward the door.

  “Stop fucking with my head,” I breathed, watching him as I snaked my hand into the back pocket of my jeans and loosened the small syringe I’d hidden there. The tiny drops of liquid powerful enough to take down a hippo, or a corrupt politician’s son. When I’d checked out of the roadside motel in Seaport, I’d stumbled into the owner selling what I thought was weed to a local teenager. When I’d revealed to the motel owner that I was looking for my husband, but that I didn’t know if I could trust him—he’d given me a small syringe of fluid and told me to puncture the vein deep in the event of an emergency. A quick-acting deadly dose that might save my life. I didn’t think I’d need it, but confronting Tav without any other weapon felt too risky. And now it might be the case that the motel owner selling drugs on the side could be the difference between my life and Tav’s.

  “Good luck finding your husband,” he laughed as I walked away from Seaport, deadly syringe tucked in my back pocket.

  “I can’t believe I trusted you for so long.” I approached Tav, his eyes wide and shining as his gaze bounced between the syringe in one hand and the gun in the other.

  “I’ve got a few surprises of my own.” I hunched at his shoulder and pressed the barrel of the gun to his temple. “It’s not just kill or be killed on that mountain, it’s kill or be killed period.”

  His lips twisted open but before he could form another word I plunged the needle deep into the vein at his elbow.

  “Thanks for everything, Tav. It’s been a fucking pleasure.”

  I left the syringe dangling in his arm and stood, tucking the handgun into my bag and walking out of the door.

  The press would have a field day but I would be long gone by then. I grinned following the signs for the exit as I walked down the hallway. I’d need to dispose of this gun, but I was confident I’d left nothing to implicate me in this crime.

  And even if authorities did track it back to me, I was only defending myself. Tav was holding me against my will. I would take that statement to my grave, even if I wasn’t entirely sure it was true.

  I reached the stairwell, descending it quickly and feeling like I’d finally entered the gates of Hell.

  Tav had kept me sheltered, with every step forward I knew I’d never let anyone steal my power so easily again. Tav had underestimated me, again. I’d survived that mountain, survived the unknown and the other end of his gun barrel, but I wasn't foolish enough to wish it ended with him.

  My descent into Hell had only just begun.

  Thirty-Nine

  I hovered like a creep at a park across the street from the motel waiting for her.

  She'd been quiet for hours. If I knew her at all, she would need a cup of coffee soon.

  Night or day, Freya liked her coffee.

  I would give her time alone if she needed it, but not without first ensuring her safety.

  I shook my head, exasperated, feeling the shame of my own deceit weighing me down. Even after everything we’d been through. Maybe it was time to explain all of that to her. Tell her what I couldn't before—that she’d almost lost her life—consumed in her own world like she was.

  My eyes darted up to the corner room she occupied. I couldn't imagine how she was feeling right now, but if I knew her at all, betrayal would probably be the first reaction on her mind.

  She needed to come to her senses, and fast. I hadn't betrayed her, not for a second. I'd kept secrets close to my chest out of necessity, for her own safety and mine, but betraying her was something I would never do.

  She was everything.

  She was the only human that had ever loved me without condition or malice. I'd throw my own body in front of a tank before anyone would hurt a hair on her head, even if that person was me.

  A light flickered on then, bringing me back to the present and catching my attention as, just like I'd predicted, her soft silhouette came into the small kitchenette.

  She was captivating.

  I thought of the first time I’d ever seen her, braids in her hair and tiny cherries on her dress.

  She'd seen me that first time, she just didn't know it. Her head had turned quickly, her dainty profile lit in bright Sunday sunlight. Her eyes darted up to the sky, before eyelashes fanned her cheeks as she seemed to soak up the light. Her chin wavered, and then her warm eyes flickered open, gaze landing directly on me at the edge of the church yard.

  Time ceased, the world vanished, and I fell into dark depths I'd never find myself free of. Like being caught in a vortex, I was rooted, stunned with something I'd never felt before and hadn't been able to place then.

  From day one I'd loved her.

  Forty

  SENATOR’S SON DIED OF OVERDOSE

  I scanned the article as I stood in line at the local coffee shop. The barista set a hot dark roast coffee on the counter and nodded. “Shelly?”

  I nodded, taking the drink I’d ordered. The name I’d decided to use to stay under the radar felt foreign.

  “Welcome to Portland.” The young barista grinned at my Harvard hat. I’d picked it up at a secondhand store to help disguise myself as I decided what to do next.

  I smiled
politely and replied, “Thanks.”

  “Been to Maine before?”

  “This trip was my first time. I’m thinking of buying something here.”

  “Can’t beat the Nor’east. Wild weather and even wilder people.”

  “I’ve noticed.”

  He tipped his chin, waving once before turning to the next drink order. I crossed the cafe and headed to a private corner near the window. I didn’t dare run back to grab today’s copy of the newspaper, but every fiber of me wanted to.

  I’d been waiting for this news.

  Would Tav be found dead or alive? And would investigators suspect foul play or a drug overdose?

  My entire future depended on the latter.

  I didn’t know the details and I didn’t want to. I’d laid awake all of the last five nights wondering who else may have seen me leave Tav’s room that day. I’d covered every angle in my head, praying the secret services agents didn’t search every minute of the security cameras in that hallway to find I’d been the last to see Tav.

  Or had I?

  I had no details of his death, maybe I hadn’t been the last to see him. I’d left before I’d known the outcome for a reason. He’d still been breathing, he’d still been alive, and the tabloids were already having a field day with Tav’s sordid history. Dipping his toes into small-time scandals was the norm for Tav, or so I’d come to find out.

  I didn’t know what he did while he was away all week, he kept me in the dark. Always.

  Would the day come that I could get a knock on my door, a friendly looking investigator just wanting to ask a few questions about the last time I’d seen Tav? Maybe, but I wouldn’t be there to get it.

  I hadn’t left Maine since the moment I walked off that mountain.

  Something warned me off going back to Lancaster, our life there—what we almost had—too real.

  Plus, they would come looking for me there.

  Whoever they were.

  I knew they existed. The one that’d stolen my mom’s life by orchestrating a convenient accident. The ones that’d insisted to Tav’s senator father that my family was a problem that required handling.

  To them, we are objects.

  I inhaled a silent breath of coffee steam, a smile lighting my face when suddenly I caught sight of the broad expanse of shoulders I’d missed so much.

  “I missed you.”

  I rose to meet him, the way his arms encircled my waist sent a warm thrill through my veins.

  “I’ve missed you too.”

  Bradley’s lips dusted the shell of my ear. “What took you so long?”

  “Something tells me I should have stayed on the mountain,” I hummed.

  Bradley settled himself in the seat across from me, but refused to release my hand, holding both in his palms across the table. “I thought you were dead. Jesus, I thought he must have murdered you. He wouldn’t answer any of my phone calls, and right before his dad announced he was running for senate he blocked me. His phone wouldn’t even ring anymore, but I caught him, I called him from a friend’s phone one time and he picked up. I heard a woman’s voice in the background that thought it was you. I told him to let me talk to you but he didn’t say a thing and just hung up on me. I hated him from the beginning, Frey, and I hate him more now.”

  “Well, he’s dead, so we shouldn’t talk about him like—”

  “I don’t care if he’s dead or not. I hope he rots in Hell, Freya, he deserves it for what he put you through. You were basically his prisoner up there. I never liked him, from the moment I saw him at Steph’s gallery opening I knew he had ulterior motives.”

  “The gallery opening? Which one? I don’t remember seeing you at Steph’s gallery.”

  “I stopped in once, I wanted to buy you something special for your birthday last year but Steph was sold out of all art. An art gallery, without art, can you imagine that?”

  “I miss art galleries, and Steph, and the real world.” I confessed. “Once the Sunday packages began arriving I began to count them off in my head. If I lived another fifty years, that’s two-thousand, six-hundred Sundays. Two-thousand and six-hundred interactions remained with a complete stranger, and none with the one person I’ve spent so many of my Sundays with before now. I thought I'd never see you again, but I think that was the point. Tav put the house in my name. He was brilliant, don’t you see? It’s his final fuck you, he told me he did it all for me, to save my life. But Tav would never do anything that didn’t look out for Tav first.”

  “Geez, this is a crazy story. I had no idea, Frey.”

  “Maybe he’s right, though. Maybe I was safer for a while, but he didn’t tell me the risks he was saving me from. In fact, think about it, putting the chalet in my name ensures he’s the hero no matter what happens. If I ever tried to smear his name like he claimed my mother did to his father, he would be covered because he’d gifted me with this beautiful luxury house. And worse...if things between us blew up in his face, well then...as soon as investigators find out he transferred the house to my name, they’re going to want to talk to me. He’s set me up to fail, even with his death, my life isn’t my own.”

  “Frey, you can’t keep letting that fear hang over you. Let me take you home to Lancaster, I’ll stay over so you don’t have to worry about anything.”

  “I’m not going back to Lancaster. I’m not going anywhere I’ve ever been before.”

  “You’re not?”

  “I can’t. I’ve been thinking about where to go next, and…” I worked the next words over in my head. Could I trust Bradley? I thought he was my oldest friend. “I contacted the advocacy agency my mom worked with.”

  “Why?”

  “I’ve agreed to publish anonymous articles detailing what I know.”

  “Freya, don’t. They’ll know it’s you. Then you’ll really be targeted.”

  “The advocacy group said it’s the only way to ensure my safety. Be open and honest, they want me to use my real name but I’m scared to really paint the target on my back.”

  Bradley narrowed his eyes. “I don’t think that’s a great idea.”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know what else to do. I’m already a target, Tav made me one.”

  My oldest friend sighed, worried eyes on mine. “Geez, here I thought I was coming up here to save you from Tav, but it looks like I need to save you from yourself.”

  “Think about it, if I just go back to that house in Lancaster and hide out and wait for that knock to come to my door...I’m living in fear. I’m letting them control me…”

  “But who are they exactly?”

  I shook my head, leveling with him. “I have no idea, but I have to act like they’re everywhere.”

  “Ugh, this is intense.”

  “Every moment of my life has been under a microscope since I met Tav, and I had no idea. Not until now. And now...he’s gone so I don’t know who to trust beyond myself.”

  “You can trust me, always.” Bradley squeezed my hands.

  “Tav taught me to trust no one.”

  Bradley frowned. “That’s dark.”

  “Welcome to life, the weather is weird and the people are weirder.” I pulled a file of printouts from my bag. “I’ve been digging.”

  “Great.”

  “Turns out Tav was sent to boarding school after some behavior issues. I couldn't find much—”

  “That’s probably for the best,” Bradley commented.

  “So I called the boarding schools around Lancaster.”

  “You did?”

  I nodded. “He was threatening other students—other female students—and he was diagnosed with a suspected personality disorder at that point. Lack of impulse control, the intake report specifically said.”

  “How did you get his intake report?”

  “You’d be surprised how cheap it is to get information on a senator’s son. It’s like people are desperate to share what they know and knock the golden son off of his pedestal.”

  Bradley
cocked his chin my way, then broke into an awkward chuckle. “So just to be clear, you’re not coming home to Lancaster with me, and you’re being hunted by you-have-no-idea who?”

  “Pretty much...” I frowned. “It’s complicated.”

  Bradley shook his head. “I’ll say. I want to help you, Freya. I’m here for you however you need me.”

  I shook my head, unwilling to ask him to stay and live this life with me, even if I wanted to. “I shouldn’t have called, it’s involving you too much.”

  “You should have called. I was waiting for your call.” He pulled my hands closer to his, stroking my knuckles in soft kisses. “I’m so glad you called, there’s nowhere I’d rather be. I still love you, Freya. I never stopped. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it over and over.”

  “Come with me then.” Were the only words I could stand to utter.

  “With you? W-where?”

  “Everywhere.”

  “Freya—”

  “I’m selling the chalet. We can live off the money for years, let them find us. Portugal, Puerto Rico, Panama—name it.”

  “Frey—”

  “I don’t trust anyone else,” I squeaked as I sank my fingers into my pocket and pulled out a folded letter. “This arrived at my hotel late last night. Someone slipped it under the door. They know where I am.”

  Bradley unfolded the notepaper, eyebrows shooting up when he read the single sentence.

  I know what you did.

  C

  “Who is C?”

  “I think it’s the man that murdered my mother. I think he was also sending me letters while I was at the chalet. They were addressed to The Sunday Wife and so creepy.”

  “Maybe they weren’t meant for you.

  “You think the mailman made a mistake?” Sarcasm laced my words.

  “Maybe.” He shrugged. “Even if it was the guy that killed your mom, what does he want from you?”

  “He wants revenge.” I folded the letter and tucked it back into my pocket. Hidden, but not forgotten.

  “Revenge for what?”