by Kris Jayne
“Look,” Kid began. His voice trailed off as he turned his head and spoke to someone else in the room. Shannon could barely hear the low rumble of another man’s voice. “I gotta go. But I’ll be hitting you up in a few days. I got plans.”
So do I, Shannon thought as she hung up the phone.
With the arrest, she was back in the questionable category on the custody front, but she and Jeff could maybe work something out. The good news is that since she had him served he was already in the mood to compromise. That might be all it took, which was good.
So far, the custody lawyer was doing it for free, but who knew how long that would last. She’s some women’s rights person, the kind that wore square suits and cut their hair short. She’s probably a lesbian, Shannon thought. Not that she cared. Life without men sounded like the safest bet ever.
Dragging Kid behind like an anchor was maybe the worst mistake she’d ever made. She needed to seize the chance to untangle his life from hers. Ironically, getting her life together made it harder.
In the past, she’d pick up and leave. Now, she couldn’t do that. She had Olivia to consider. She’d signed a six-month apartment lease. The attorney offered her help in getting a protective order. Shannon had even given the woman Taryn’s name since, at least according to Jeff, Taryn had noticed her black eye courtesy of Kid. For now, however, maybe she could count on his staying gone on his own without pissing him off by serving him with papers.
You’ve run out of chances to do better.
As she repeated the words to herself, they sank deeper. Strange as it was, Jeff had given her faith. Faith that she could be a good mom if she just started acting like a good mom.
For all her troubles, Shannon felt hopeful for the first time in weeks even as a nagging feeling about Kid’s dodgy plans stayed with her.
Shannon reached for her phone. She had to let Jeff know that Kid was talking about breaking into his house. Her only way forward was to keep things square with ex-husband number one.
Chapter Forty-Five
This evening promised to be as tense as the previous couple of days. Olivia had asked to see her mother. Her pleading look, plus the fact that she hadn’t seen her mother in over a week, moved him.
He promised her he’d arrange to meet Shannon for dinner. With the theft, the failed drug test, and Shannon’s warning about Kid, Jeff wasn’t ready to have his ex back in his home.
Since his mother picked up Olivia from school, he’d ended up inviting her as well. Normally, he’d have Taryn there to help keep things light and civil. He doubted his fiancée’s presence would be the calming force tonight.
“When you get to the house, Mom, you’ll have to punch in the alarm code,” Jeff explained.
Jeff dreaded telling his mother that Shannon’s boyfriend threatened to break into his house. He already had enough on his plate. The business sale was a couple of weeks from closing. He had the mess with Taryn. Endless messes with Shannon. He heard his mother’s chastising tone in his head. He loved her, but she didn’t know when to quit sometimes.
“You’re setting the alarm now?”
“Yeah. I had a talk with Shannon yesterday. She mentioned that her ex, that guy Wayne Nelson, has asked her a couple of times about what kind of security we have at the house. She told him we have an alarm system, but she said that the last time she talked to him, he was clearly planning something. Better safe than sorry.”
“Oh, my goodness, Jeff, you need to call the police.”
“And tell them what? I’ve never even met the guy. We just have to be careful. From what Shannon said, his main gig has always been burglary. Always when no one is home. They don’t want to bother with people, but we need to make sure we lock up and set the alarm every time we leave the house. You have the code, right?”
“Yeah, Jeff, I have it,” his mom said and sighed. “That woman is a tornado of trouble. If it weren’t for Olivia, I’d rue the day you ever met her. I hope you see that ruining things with Taryn over this…this person is not worth it.”
Jeff dropped head and closed his eyes, saying a silent prayer.
“What goes on between me and Taryn is between us, Mom. It doesn’t have anything to do with Shannon,” Jeff informed her.
He and Taryn needed time to consider where they were in their relationship and whether they could get back to trusting each other and being honest. He wanted to believe they would work it out, but the last thing he needed was interference from his mother or anyone else.
“If that’s how you see it.”
“It is, Mom. Please promise me that you’ll try to be neutral tonight when we have dinner. Olivia hasn’t seen her in over a week, and I don’t want it to be awkward.”
“Fine. I can be neutral,” Nora huffed. “I’ll see you at the restaurant.”
“Thanks, Mom. I appreciate all the things you do for me.”
“I do it because I love you, Jeff. I want you to be happy.”
“I know. I love you too. I’ll talk to you later.”
Nora McConnell said her goodbye, and Jeff hung up the phone.
Shannon caught the time on the microwave and hustled to the kitchen. If she grabbed a yogurt, she could eat it in the car and not be starving halfway through her shift that started in half an hour.
She could get coffee when she got to work. One of the few good things about working at a Wal-Mart, you could get a real coffee at the café in the store entrance, not stale, burnt coffee in some break room. Luckily, she still had her job despite her trip to the county jail.
Shannon threw her blueberry Greek yogurt and reusable coffee thermos in her giant hobo bag, snatched up her keys, and hurried to her car.
She pressed the remote, and immediately after the alarm beeped, she heard a most unwelcome voice.
“Off to stack the canned peas, baby?”
Shannon opened the car door and dropped her bag on the driver’s side floorboard before facing Kid.
“At least it’s a job. When did you get back to Dallas?”
“Just now. I need to stop in. Take a shower.”
“Oh. I didn’t think you were coming back.”
“Huh?”
“I thought you were heading back home. I changed the locks.” Shannon crossed her fingers that Kid would believe she’d only misunderstood.
“I go take care of some business for a week, and you change the locks? I’m working for us. You and me. And you’re pulling stunts.”
Kid stepped toward her. Shannon counted the distance between them. Forty feet? He kept striding. Twenty-five? He stopped. Kid swiped his palm down his face, glaring.
“You still going out tonight?”
“Yeah.”
“What time you think you’ll be back?”
She shrugged. “Later.”
“What time are you going to be done with dinner, Shannon?”
“I don’t know. Not too late. Olivia has school tomorrow. Why?”
“You and I need to talk.”
“Kid, look. Are we going to keep doing this? I mean, I got arrested. I got no claim on Jeff’s business. I talked to a lawyer. The plan’s not going to work. We should move on and not just from thinking that we’re going to get anything out of Jeff. You know what I’m saying?” Shannon spoke carefully, putting one foot inside her car and gripping the car door in front of her.
“I know what you’re saying.” Kid stood rigid, spitting his words and coughing. “You can move on, but not before we talk. Back here. Eight o’clock.”
“Nine. It’ll take me time to get back.”
“Fine.”
Shannon jumped in her car, slammed the door, and locked it. She drove half way to work and thought about Kid’s menacing eyes. She’d told him that she changed the locks. She was leaving him. Then, it hit her that he hadn’t.
Something was up. Shannon thanked God she had her walk-away stash of clothes and money in her trunk.
No way was she coming back to that apartment tonight.
&nb
sp; Taryn didn’t notice her head falling forward until it hit bottom and snapped back up. She pinched her leg underneath the table and forced herself to focus on the presentation illuminating a screen in the darkened conference room.
The drone of the speaker from human resources constituted a sedative more powerful than any prescription—even if she hadn’t had less than three hours of sleep the night before. Who needed Xanax?
Management ordered all employees to attend this meeting and then complete online harassment training in the next sixty days. Micky’s foot kicked hers and she turned her head. Micky mouthed, “Stay awake.” Taryn sat straighter in her conference room chair.
Some vice president in research and development had been escorted out by HR the week before, bringing about today’s don’t-make-comments-about-the-receptionist’s-breasts-in-meetings talk. Taryn fumed. She didn’t need tips on how not to be gross at work.
Instead of thinking about what words were appropriate to use when complimenting a co-worker, Taryn thought back to the argument she’d had with Jeff. She couldn’t go another couple of days in non-communication with this tension between them.
While he’d told her that she needed to think about whether she could still be his wife, Taryn couldn’t imagine navigating those waters without talking it over with Jeff. Wasn’t that itself a sign? They needed more communication—about everything—not less.
She shifted again in her chair, flipping her phone over and over in her hand. When it buzzed, she almost shouted in surprise. She looked down at the shining screen of salvation.
> 911. Budget issue with the user group. Meet me in my office.
Micky. If she hadn’t just heard a lecture on appropriate office touch, Taryn might grab her friend and kiss her. She rotated slightly in her chair and looked back at Micky, who slipped out of the padded leather conference chair and headed toward the door while glaring sternly at her phone. Taryn waited a minute or two and then followed, racing straight to Micky’s office.
“Come in and close the door,” Micky said in an elevated volume. Taryn followed her friend’s instruction, then she sank into the opposite chair and banged her forehead on Micky’s desk.
“Sweet Jesus, I thought I was going to pass out.”
“We may get into trouble, but probably not as much trouble as if you fell asleep in the meeting.”
“I know. I’ll take the online course later. I hardly got any sleep last night. I’m all agitated. One more minute in there, and next week, everyone would have to go to a workplace violence seminar.”
“Are you going to call him?”
Taryn had provided Micky with a blow-by-blow recap of what happened the night before over the phone.
“I may stop by his house later. Or I guess I should call first?” Taryn chewed her bottom lip.
“Whichever you can do sooner. So, yeah, call him. Text him to let him know that you’ll be calling him after work.”
“You mean I still have to work today?”
“This is the problem with having marriage-age women in the workplace. Our minds are muddled with thoughts of men.”
“That’s a terrible thing to say. I’m turning you in to HR.”
“Well, if we’re going to justify our escape, we should at least provide an updated budget to Ben.”
Ben Russo, their boss, had asked for updates on their second quarter events. Now was as good a time as any to provide them.
“Fine, but I want to duck out on time if I can. Can we get this wrapped up by four? I have a few other things I need to finish before I go home.”
“Done,” Micky said. “Let’s go get some coffee so you stay awake.”
They wrapped up their budget and project plan reviews, sending them off to their boss. Taryn went back to her office and responded to some vendor emails. Some of them were on the west coast, and she knew she might not get answers until after regular hours.
Right at five, Taryn packed up her work and her laptop and headed out. She had time to stop by the store. She could maybe make dinner. With any luck, she could catch Jeff before he left and ask him to meet her at the house.
Pulling up to the restaurant, Jeff parked and checked his phone. Taryn had texted him. She wanted to have dinner at his house. Jeff sighed.
> Not tonight. Talk to you tomorrow. I promise.
He didn’t want to explain why he was having dinner with Shannon. She didn’t understand his stance. Jeff wasn’t sure she would. The situation depressed him, but they could talk it through later. They had to move past the Shannon issue. He had no intention of letting their mistrust keep them apart.
He exited the car and slipped his phone back in his pocket. He’d talk to her in the morning.
Chapter Forty-Six
Taryn parked her car in Jeff’s driveway and checked her phone. Still no text back from Jeff.
She punched the button for the garage door. If she didn’t reach him, she didn’t reach him. She’d put the groceries in the fridge, and maybe tomorrow she could come back over and cook. Not wanting to make two trips, Taryn grabbed her laptop bag and the two bags of groceries.
The backyard gate rattled, and Taryn turned. She didn’t know why it would be open. Taryn rocked backward, balancing her cargo while shoving her car door shut with her foot. Once in the garage, she set down the grocery bags, her laptop bag still strapped around her shoulder, and opened the door into the house. An electronic shriek pierced the air.
Why was the alarm set? Shouldering the door open wider, she dropped her laptop bag in the mudroom and punched in the alarm code to silence it.
Gathering up the groceries again, she ambled into the kitchen and set them on the countertop next to the fridge. Looking out over the family room, a swish of color caught her attention in the backyard. She maneuvered around the bar and into the living area to see what it was.
A person. A man? Taryn froze.
Her purse. That’s where her cell phone was. In her small clutch purse, which she'd stuffed inside her laptop bag. She ran into the mudroom and seized on the large computer bag. She emptied its contents and picked through the debris for her purse and her phone. The door to the garage burst open, and the charge of a ski-masked man knocked her backward.
“Lucky, lucky. Guess I don’t have to cut those phone lines, after all,” he growled with a thick, slow East Texas drawl. Sprawled out on her back, Taryn splayed her hands on each side of her, prepared to spring back up. “That is a nice ring.”
He gave a loud laugh that rattled in his chest. Taryn rolled over and jumped up to her feet. She still clutched her phone. She ran back into the kitchen and toward the front of the house. Get to the front door. She repeated the command to herself over and over.
Swinging around the corner and down the front hallway, she circled the round entry table. She closed her fingers on the deadbolt latch as the heavy footsteps closed the distance behind her.
Taryn looked down at her cell phone. The screen was locked. She knew there was a way to make an emergency call, but she had no idea. She’d never looked at that feature. Who would? Her finger flew across the screen to unlock the device. Suddenly, it all seemed complicated.
The rush from behind flew at her, and she didn’t see what was coming. The blow of another body against hers knocked her sideways, smashing her ribs into the knob of the front door. Her phone sailed, dropped, and skittered across the marble tile.
A heavy fist blasted into the side of her head. Pain exploded in her ear. Taryn managed to push herself upright and turn halfway around. She flailed, grabbing at anything she could. Her nails caught the skin of his neck, and she sank them into his flesh. As she strained to separate herself from him, she brought with her the man’s wooly mask.
Who was he?
He raised up his hand to backhand her. Taryn flinched, turning her head away. She needed to get a good look at him, but first, she had to get out of his grasp. With only one of his hands gripping her, Taryn pulled free and kicked. She caught him in the shin once,
then again.
“Fuck! You bitch.” Another blow connected across her jaw and sent shockwaves of pain through her skull.
Taryn gathered her vision. She dodged and whirled back around the solid wood table. The man slipped as he changed direction in his pursuit.
She grabbed one of the heavy candlesticks flanking the large vase of flowers on the foyer table. Squaring her shoulders, she swung it like a golf club, up and across her body. The hard smack against his chin returned vibrations down into her arms.
She struggled, but maintained her grip and struck downward this time. The man had tried to steady himself and push forward, but the weighty metal smashed against the side of his head. Not wanting to leave anything to chance, Taryn pressed her advantage over the wobbly man and cracked him once more on the crown of his head.
It wasn’t until he dropped to the floor that she noticed the blood seeping from his face and splattered across the foyer. She focused her eyes. He looked familiar but she had no time to match the face in her mental databank.
Her stomach heaved.
Taryn didn’t know whether it was because of the bloody mess or blows she’d received. She didn’t stop to contemplate it. She hurdled the unconscious man and bent down to snatch up her phone. She flicked the door lock and bolted.
A van parked a few doors down peeled out and past her on the street. Taryn took one look behind her. No one. Finally, she tapped the now-broken screen of her phone and brought up the keypad to dial 911. Her heart pumped. Her face felt hot. The nauseated feeling rolled in her gut. Somehow, she tapped the necessary numbers, but then her breath left her.
Wayne Nelson.
The name coalesced into her last thought before the ground flew up to meet her. Taryn felt herself falling as if through the sidewalk into a swirl of black.
A shower of light suddenly filled the spinning space around Taryn. She heard warbled shouting and a piercing wail cutting through every other sound. She pressed her torso upward into bands of resistance wrapped around her. A thunder of pain rolled from her head, down her back, and into her legs, but she wasn’t upright.