Jarrett tried to chase me before the man threatened him. He then sent a final text to my phone before it was busted, telling me to lock the doors, to call the cops and my father.
He offered to help John find Dina and me, under the guise that I would be able to get help first and he could trap him.
It didn’t work out exactly as planned.
Thank God Walsh checked his phone and was able to track my location, busted phone or not. It pinged off the cell tower by my parents’ house.
But there’s still some gaping holes that need filled.
I’ve had some time to think, and there are lingering questions that pick at my brain when I try and relax or when I drop my head to the pillow at night to sleep.
Niggling thoughts that won’t leave.
They beg to be answered.
The day I went to Portland and an unidentified voice called me to tell me they killed Talin. Why?
And was the man meant to harm me?
I ask.
She takes a cigarette out of the pack, her hand shaking as she lights it, sucking it in as if it’s a drink she can inhale and savor. Her eyes close. I think she’s ignoring me, but she opens her mouth to speak after a few more drags. “John told me a woman with out-of-state plates was driving around the area. He saw you knock on the neighbor’s door and enter her house. He described you. I thought for sure you went to Cali, so I gave him your number to call and see if it was really you.”
“With what intention?” I snap.
“To scare you into leaving.” She leans forward, tapping the butt in the metal ashtray. “I didn’t want you poking around.”
“He locked me in the back yard.” I exclaim. “What if he hurt me?”
“Why would he do that?”
“You claim he wasn’t supposed to ‘hurt’ Talin, and he killed her,” I shoot back. “Why wouldn’t he do the same with me?”
“Because he was paid for her services,” she says numbly.
“If he thought I was getting close to the truth, he could’ve done the same,” I murmur.
“That’s why I wanted him to scare you away.”
“By locking me in her yard?” I’m dubious.
“I didn’t tell him to do that.” She leans forward, elbows resting on her knees.
“He must not listen to instructions very well.” I’m sardonic.
“Meghan, you have to believe I would never put you or the kids in danger.” She turns to look at me. I don’t meet her eyes, instead focusing on a stain on the cream carpet.
“Did you know the detective would be watching the house?”
“No, but I figured it would be under surveillance.”
“Were you hoping John would draw attention to himself on his own?”
“Yes.” She’s blunt.
“Did you call and cancel the security system installation?”
She moans. “Yes.”
I rise to stand. “Those are the only questions I have.”
“Please don’t go,” she begs.
“What else could we possibly have to talk about?”
She mumbles something I strain to hear. “What?”
“Are you going to stay with him?”
“That’s none of your concern.”
“What about Jarrett?” she asks, bringing a fingernail to her mouth to bite instead of a cancer stick.
“He got shot because of you,” I shriek.
“I know.” She spits out the remnants of a nail. “I know.”
“I’m going to go pick up the boys.” I sigh.
“Tell them nana loves them.” She stares at me, her eyes glazed. “I miss them. I want to see them soon. Please.”
I nod, my heart breaking.
Reed’s waiting for me in the Suburban, his seat leaned back as he rests his eyes. I know he’s not sleeping, his body on high alert. His lids fly open when I tap on the locked door. He presses the button and I climb into the passenger seat, weary, as if I came back from my own personal trip to hell.
“How was it?” He clasps my hand in his, the comfort a security blanket I sorely need.
I lick my lips. “Unbearable.” Drained, I rest my head against the seat.
He nods, turning the key in the ignition.
We’ve both loved and lost, with each other, and right now in a new stage of life, blindly shifting our way through our own stages of grief. We still share the same four walls, but we co-exist and co-parent, the only way we can survive together right now.
Driving down the tree-lined street, he hangs a left and a few miles up ahead, merges onto the freeway.
Where’re we headed?
Reed and I are headed in separate directions, our paths deviating - the stress of marriage, children, philandering, and murder-for-hire a direct route to splitsville.
But in this moment, we’re headed to the hospital.
For Jarrett.
He took a bullet for my family. When Reed drops me off, I tiptoe into his hospital room, I realize he’s made of something stronger than any of us Bishops. He’s my own personal hero.
I lean over him, kissing the growth of his beard, his eyes widening as he feels my lips. He’s where I’m meant to land.
And as soon as he’s back on his feet, I’m never letting him go.
About the Author
Marin Montgomery is the Amazon Top 100 bestselling author of four psychological thrillers. Originally from the Midwest, she currently lives in Phoenix with her golden doodle, Dashiell.
For more information, visit www.marinmontgomery.com.
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