by D. L. Wood
“Yeah,” he admitted, grimacing, “probably not smart to antagonize somebody that knows how to kill you in forty-seven different ways.”
“Forty-eight,” she corrected blithely, a tiny smile turning up the edge of her mouth. “So, I’ll see you in the morning?”
“I’ll leave for the meeting at nine thirty. If you’re not at the office by then, I’ll assume you’re not coming along.”
“I’ll be there.”
“Hey,” he grinned, a mischievous twinkle in his eye, “if I brought a copy of his book over, do you think he’d autograph—”
Rolling her eyes, Chloe closed the door before he could finish.
* * * * *
As much as Chloe wanted some time alone with Jack, there were the kids to think about. And it was a good opportunity for Jack to get to know them. So for about an hour they played one video game after another, before finally sending them upstairs to do whatever homework they had before bed. On the way to the stairs, Emma passed Chloe, flicked her eyes in Jack’s direction when he wasn’t looking, and mouthed, “Not bad.”
Chloe popped Emma on the head as she scrambled up the steps.
“They seem like great kids,” Jack said, standing in the doorway to the kitchen with a glass of wine. “Here.”
“Thanks,” she said, taking it and sipping the zinfandel as they moved back to the family room and sank into the couch. “They’ve really grown on me.”
“I can see that,” he said, twirling a bit of her hair. “You’re a natural.”
“It’s weird being the older one.”
He eyed her dubiously. “Tate was only three minutes older than you.”
“Well, he never let me forget it,” she said, smiling wistfully. “I always felt like the baby of the family.”
“Well, they seem to like you too,” he said encouragingly as she leaned into him and he put his arm around her. She breathed in deeply, soaking him up as he broke the silence. “So…before we get to anything else, I want to tell you about what happened with Lila.”
“Okay,” she replied, listening as he explained how he had ended things with Lila, and how he had passed her on to Evan to handle her questions. “Of course, that was if she really ever had any,” he finished somewhat skeptically. “And that was it. Haven’t heard from her since. I know I should have told you—”
“Don’t,” she interrupted him gently. “You already apologized before. I was actually going to call you tonight when I got home. I know I overreacted.”
He had an odd look on his face that she couldn’t decipher. “What?” she asked hesitantly.
“Was that before or after the thing with Banyon?”
“What?”
“Just…did you decide to call me before or after the thing with Banyon?”
“Before.”
“Are you sure?”
“Uh, yeah. I’m sure. Why…what difference does it make?”
“Because…are you sure you didn’t decide to call me just because you got scared?”
“What? No. It had nothing to do with that.”
He eyed her carefully, then straightened up and pulled away. “I want to ask you something, but I don’t want you to freak out.”
“Okay,” she drawled uncertainly.
“Sometimes…I don’t know…I worry that maybe part of the reason you’re with me is because…because of what happened before. On the island and after.”
“What do you mean ‘because of what happened’?”
Jack looked grim as he explained. “I kept you safe on the island, then I got you off the island to Miami, then I pulled you out of a house full of armed captors—”
“Hey,” she said gently, “stop. What—you think I developed some sort of savior complex about you or something?”
He shrugged. “Maybe. Sometimes.”
She sighed. “No. No way. And you weren’t the only person doing the rescuing, remember? What about Riley?” Jack’s old SEAL buddy, Riley, lived in Miami, and Jack had recruited him to help when Chloe was kidnapped. “He was involved in all that and I didn’t fall in love with him,” she teased, gently jabbing her shoulder into Jack, in an attempt to lighten things.
“Chloe, I’m serious.”
“And I’m serious. This is ridiculous.”
“No, look,” he turned towards her, “it happens. With people who have been through extreme circumstances together. They develop this bond because of what they’ve been through and misinterpret it as something more. Then down the road one of them realizes what it really was and wants out—”
“You want out?”
“No! No. I need to know that you don’t want out.”
“Of course I don’t want out! Jack, you know how I feel about you.” She studied him for a moment. His steady, but pained expression made it clear that this was not easy for him. Her eyes drifted to his bad leg, and she gestured to it. “Is that what this is about?”
He blinked just long enough to let her know she was on target. “No.”
“I don’t believe you. You’ve been acting oddly ever since they told you it might not heal completely.”
“It isn’t about the leg.” He squinted. “Well, not really about the leg itself. But, I don’t know, it’s got me wondering.”
“About what?”
“About whether, now that I’m not one hundred percent anymore, you might look at me differently. That you might start asking questions about why you’re really with me.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Are you sure?” he pressed.
“I’m not that shallow.”
“I’m not saying you’re shallow.”
“It sounds like it,” she said.
“No. Sorry. I’m not saying this well.” A heavy silence filled the space between them.
“Jack, I’m not confused about my feelings. I’m not with you because of what you did. I’m with you because of who you are.” He stared at her, his mind clearly circling something. “What is it?” she pushed.
He pressed his lips together and swallowed. “Okay, so you had already decided to call. So then, why didn’t you call me right after Banyon grabbed you? If you’d already made up your mind to call anyway, it would’ve been a natural time to do it after something crazy like that.”
“What?”
“You had the whole drive here after that happened and you didn’t call me.” There was no condemnation in his voice. It wasn’t an accusation. Just a wistful statement of fact.
Something in her stomach rolled, as she began to sense something significant being unearthed. “I was a little shell-shocked. I just wanted to get back.”
“Yeah I heard.”
“What do you mean?”
He looked away, down at her hands, and placed one of his over hers, rubbing her knuckles absentmindedly. “When you walked in, you were yelling for Holt.”
“I needed to tell him what had just happened.”
“Exactly.” The word was just a whisper. Then he looked up, his gaze determined, but sad. “The first person you ran to was him. Not me. Before this week I would’ve been the first one you reached out to.” He pushed a curl away from her chin. “Tonight it was him. And I saw the way he was looking at you.”
“Okay, now you really have lost it.” Chloe shook her head. “Holt is Reese’s business partner. I’m helping him with his case. He’s helping me with the kids.”
“I’m sure he is.”
Chloe cocked her head, any semblance of a smile choked back by burgeoning angst. “Jack Bartholomew. Seriously, stop it.”
“This thing with Lila—it was so easy for you to shut me out, Chloe. I know I should have handled it differently, but it was one mistake. Granted, I know it hit a raw spot because of your past—but still, one mistake and you stop talking to me. For days.”
Chloe’s shoulders sank. “I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have reacted so severely.”
“That’s not what I’m saying. The thing is, it was so quick, so comple
te. It made me think that somewhere in there, some part of you is looking for a way out.”
She held his gaze, her eyes steady. “Absolutely not.”
“I want to believe that.”
“Then believe it because it’s true,” she said, and kissed him, momentarily driving all thoughts of Holt and Banyon and interfering ex-wives far, far away.
THIRTY-SIX
Chloe rocketed up, gasping for breath, her heart slamming against her ribs at a strength that threatened to break several of them.
She had had the nightmare again. The same one she had been having on and off since they had gotten back from Miami months earlier. Only this time it was different. And much worse. Like all the other times, Tate was dead, only he wasn’t. And he had chased her to the Caribbean where he threatened to throw her off a cliff into shark-infested waters. Only they weren’t sharks. They were men; the same men that had tried to kill her—Sampson, DiMeico, Vargas—the very men Jack had saved her from. Only this time in the dream, at the point where Jack usually grabbed her arm to keep her from falling off the cliff, he let her fall, yelling after her, “I’m not sure you really want me here. Maybe I should go…”
And that was when she woke up. She steadied herself, remembering the night before. Jack was there. He wasn’t going to let her fall. She took a deep breath. She understood why he had his doubts, but she was going to prove to him that they were unfounded. They would be fine, and when all this was over in Franklin, they would go back to Atlanta and be great, just like before.
The clock read 6:45 a.m. “We’ll start with breakfast,” she said, deciding to make Jack’s favorite banana pancakes, and go from there. Tiptoeing past Reese’s room where she had put Jack up for the night, she crept down the stairs, determined to make a huge breakfast for everyone. She pulled out a skillet and reached for a mixing bowl, when she spotted a folded note addressed to her on the counter.
Dear Chloe,
I’m so sorry to leave like this, but I had to catch a super early flight back because I’m supposed to be on set later today. I sort of skipped out on them without permission. I hate that our time was so short, but it was the best I could do. I couldn’t let this go on any longer without seeing you. I thought it would just be better to let you sleep. I’m not sure I could have left otherwise.
About last night—I meant what I said. I know you said I’m wrong, and I hope I am, but I want you to really think about it, to really be sure. I want to be with you more than I’ve ever wanted anything. But it only works if you want to be with me for the right reasons. And, given everything, I just need to make sure that’s true.
Whatever you might think, I know what I saw last night. Holt is more interested in you than you realize. As much as I hate to admit it, I definitely sensed something between you two. It kills me to say this, but please just think about it. Pray about it. Make sure you want me for me, not because you fell for some guy that pulled you out of a tight spot once upon a time.
I’ve got another week and a half in California before I can come back. I’m not going to call or text or anything between now and then, to give you some time and space to really think. When you’re ready, I’ll be in Atlanta waiting. I’m not going anywhere.
I love you,
Jack
Shock rolled over Chloe as she gingerly sat on a bar stool at the kitchen counter. She had only just set the note down when her cell rang. A pang of disappointment struck when she saw it wasn’t Jack.
“Hello?”
“Could I speak to Chloe McConnaughey, please?” replied an oddly official voice.
“This is she. Who is this?”
“Middle Tennessee Hospital, ma’am. Something’s happened with your father.”
THIRTY-SEVEN
“Where is it?” Holt bellowed urgently, striding into Reese’s hospital room and nearly knocking over an exiting nurse.
Chloe looked up from her seat by the window, next to where Reese’s bed should have been. The absent bed left a significant space in the room. She nodded her head at the police officer standing in the opposite corner, speaking with a second nurse.
“And you found it where?” the officer asked the nurse, a pad and pen ready to record her response.
“Underneath the bed. It must have fallen between the mattress and the railings. I didn’t spot it until we moved him for testing downstairs.”
Holt eyed the plastic bag the officer was holding, then glanced up. “Officer Richards,” he acknowledged, nodding at the policeman.
“Holt,” replied the officer, returning the nod, obviously another acquaintance of Holt’s.
Holt gestured at the bag. “May I see it?” he asked.
“Help yourself,” Officer Richards said, setting it on a nearby tray table before returning his attention to the nurse.
Holt stepped up for a closer look. Inside the zip-locked bag was a small square of blue-lined paper containing a handwritten warning.
Don’t forget. Stop. Next time I finish the job. Or maybe break her other arm.
Holt moved closer to Chloe, leaning over her as he spoke.
“‘Break her other arm’?” he said quietly. “Did you tell him—”
“I explained that it probably means Emma,” she said in a hushed tone, so as not to disrupt the officer’s conversation with the nurse.
“So either it’s the same guy from the alley,” Holt muttered, “or someone who’s watching all of you very closely and knows about her broken arm.”
Chloe nodded.
“…And you found nothing else out of order?” Officer Richards continued with the nurse.
“No,” she answered, a bit flustered. “Nothing. I’ve searched everywhere. Security did too.”
“Yeah, I’ve already spoken with them downstairs,” replied Officer Richards. After jotting down the nurse’s contact information, he dismissed her and she strode out, clearly wanting to step away before he thought of any more questions.
Officer Richards turned his attention to Holt. “They sent me over to take statements, but Detective Laney will be here shortly. She’s the one assigned to Reese’s assault.”
“Did anybody see anything?”
“Nah. ‘Course we haven’t talked to all the shifts yet. Just this morning’s, so you never know. Evidence has already been by to dust the room, but I wouldn’t hold out much hope for fingerprints. They’re pulling the security video now for the floor, but there isn’t a camera directed down this hall. Still, we’ll see what we get. At the very least we can get a look at the elevators. Unfortunately, since the note fell under the bed, there’s no way to know how long it’s been there. It could’ve been left at any time since the last time he was moved, which they said was Monday.”
“Okay,” said Holt.
Officer Richards focused on Chloe. “Like I said, Detective Laney should be here soon. And, for the time being, we’ll post an officer outside Reese’s door until a better threat assessment can be made.”
“What about his kids?” Chloe pressed, her voice pinched. “The threats are against them too.”
“You’ll have to talk to the detective about that. But, if they determine that the kids are at risk—”
“If they determine?” Chloe sniped a little too sharply, her volume climbing steadily higher. “There are multiple threats, a broken arm, swelling on the brain…” Frustration punctuated her every word. “What more do you need?”
Officer Richards’s face tensed sympathetically. “Ms. McConnaughey, I assure you that we are doing everything we can.”
Heat flushed Chloe’s complexion. “Well, it’s not—”
“It’s okay,” Holt interrupted, clasping Chloe’s forearm to cut her off. “Thanks for the information, Jim. We’ll wait to hear from Detective Laney.”
“Yeah. All right,” he said, nodding at Holt and clapping him on the back as he left.
“Do you know everybody in this town?” Chloe muttered, biting her bottom lip.
Holt’s mouth twitched. “
Hey, if you want, I could catch him before he hits the elevator. Bring him back, let you take a few punches. Just so you’re not swinging at me.”
Chloe exhaled, her whole body deflating. “Uhh, Holt. I’m sorry. It’s not you.”
“It’s fine.”
“No, it’s not. It’s just…some guy takes a crack at Reese—twice—and now threatens the kids again, and this,” she held her hands out wide, “is the best we can do?”
“I know it’s frustrating, but they’re doing what they can. Trust me, the law enforcement community in this town is top notch, really thorough. They’ll check for fingerprints and review the video, and I’m sure they’ll do some more interviews of the staff, but it’ll be hard to get answers without a better sense of when this happened.”
Worry lines crinkled Chloe’s forehead. “I know, but…the kids. Someone has to be watching them all the time. If one of us can’t be there, we’ll have to arrange for Mrs. Brinkley to sit with them. We’ve got to keep them safe.”
“We will. We’ll figure it out,” Holt said, turning and leaning against the window sill next to her chair. He glanced at the space where Reese’s bed should be. “Why did they take him for tests?”
“They’re concerned about additional swelling because he hasn’t regained consciousness again. He was scheduled for a CT scan at six this morning. That’s when they found the message.” She bit her lip. “This has got to be about Sims, right? I mean, it’s all you’re working on right now. Somebody doesn’t want you doing that.”
“Well, no, it’s not the only thing. I’m working other cases too.”
“But any as significant as this? And what about the guy you chased off at Sims’s house? Has that happened in any of your other cases?”
Holt shook his head. “No. You’re right…at this point the most likely culprit is the Sims case.”
“Okay, so if we assume this is about Sims and your firm representing him, that suggests that all of this is to get you and Reese to back off of helping him. Why? Why would somebody do that? What difference would it make if you dropped Sims as a client? Wouldn’t he just get another attorney?”
“He doesn’t have the money for it. Nobody will take this case on for free.”