Текст книги "Infinite Possibilities"

Автор книги: Lisa Renee Jones

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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 14 страниц)

Chapter Fifteen

Meg’s words hang in the air and she stares at me expectantly. I’m not sure what she expects me to say or do but I have a fleeting memory of the moment Liam had ripped the center of my dress with the dagger and I can almost feel the gentleness of his touch and kiss when we’d finally landed on the mattress. To me, Liam Stone is a man of infinite possibilities, but all of them still equate to one simple fact. He’s the man I love.

“We have to do this on our own,” Meg insists when I apparently don’t speak up soon enough.“We can’t trust anyone.”

“We don’t even know what they want…unless there’s something you haven’t told me.”

“You’re his sister. You have to know. Why else would he hide you like he did?”

Why? Is she serious? “I’m his sister who was barely eighteen when she listened to her family being burned alive. I was ushered into hiding with no explanations.”

She shakes her head, rejecting...what? My claim? The events? “You have to know what they want,” she insists.

“I don’t. Who was the man who met me outside the hospital? Surely he knows.”

“What man?”

Right. She met Chad years later. “Did you meet any of Chad’s friends?”

“He had no friends. I think that’s why we needed each other. He was alone. I was alone.”

My heart twists with how much her words remind me of me and Liam. “Looks like we’re starting from scratch, and that isn’t a good thing. I’ve spent six years trying to put together a puzzle without pieces. Now we have five days.”

“Four days. Now we have four. What are we going to do? We have to figure it out.” Her voice rises and she’s starting to sound hysterical. “They think I know what they want. I don’t know. I thought you’d know. What do we do, Amy?”

Call Liam, I think, but she’s so off the deep end I don’t dare press to involve him. I grab her arms this time, leveling her in a stare. “We’ll be okay.” I nearly cringe at the words I’ve forbidden Liam from saying to me. “We’ll figure it out.”

She inhales and lets it out on a choppy nod. The attendant passes and I release her to grab him, eager for a blanket. “Fifteen dollars for a blanket and pillow,” the uniformed man informs me.

I feel myself pale and some of the bravado of seconds before fades. I have no money, no phone, no resources.

“I got it,” Meg offers quickly and pays the man for a pillow and blanket for each of us.

Unwrapping mine, I snuggle beneath it, and remind myself that one phone call to Liam, and my situation changes. I’m choosing to give away control, and that is control, as he would say. My confidence returns.“What’s the plan once we get to your car?”

“We don’t have one.”

Wonderful. Terrific. “Do you have money? Can we get a cheap motel?”

“Yes. I have enough.”

“Albany isn’t a huge place and it’s a logical location to get off the train from what I could tell from looking at the destinations in the train station. Believe me when I say I’ve learned the hard way that logical choices are dangerous. We should pick a large metropolitan city outside of New York and then stop to rest.”

“Yes. Okay.”

Now she has the “okay” disease. It’s almost as bad as the “do nothing” disease I’ve lived for six years. I sink back into the seat.

“So what’s the closest big city?”

“Philadelphia, maybe.” She frowns. “It’s kind of backtracking so that might be smart. But really why hide out? They’ve found us already and they have Chad.”

“What happens when they decide they don’t need us but we know too much?” I ask.

“Right. Big city it is.” She takes out her phone and checks the internet. “Philly is less than four hours.”

“Philly it is then,” I agree.

I settle my pillow under my head. “We should try to sleep. It’s still a long drive on no rest.”

She hugs me. “I’m so glad you’re here.” Inching backwards, she tilts her head and drags her hand down my long, blonde hair. “You’re beautiful like he was.”

Discomfort ticks down my spine and I manage an awkward, “Thank you, we should rest.”

She nods and shrinks down in her seat.

I roll to my side, giving her my back and I cannot shake her choice of words. As beautiful as he was.

* * *

It’s several hours later when we exit the train station and reach Meg’s expensive grass-green Volvo. “Chad bought it for me,” she says, reading the question in my eyes.

“Nice choice,” I murmur, but as I settle into the plush leather seat, thankful for the seat warmers, the car bothers me. I was barely surviving most of the time and Chad paid cash for her Volvo, and he had to pay to park in Manhattan. It doesn’t feel right, but then Chad couldn’t just hand me extra money. It would have brought attention to him and me.

With my driving time coming up, I can feel the heaviness of exhaustion in my body, and I close my eyes, willing myself to rest since I hadn’t on the train. I have to consider my health and I need a clear mind to decide what to do next. Four days is all I have left to discover what has been a six year mystery. And even if I do, it won’t be as simple as figuring out what these people want. It’s figuring out how we get these people what they want and how not to get killed in the process. I wonder why in Meg’s panic she hasn’t thought of this.

I will an image of Chad to my mind and a smile curls on my lips when I can clearly see his face. Chad...

I wave goodbye to my best friend Dana as she pulls her Volkswagen out of the drive and I run up the stairs, stopping dead in my tracks on the top step, my eyes going wide at the sight of Chad sitting in the corner on one of the two outdoor chairs.

“Chad!” I rush him and he’s on his feet at the same instant I fling myself around him. “I can’t believe you’re here.” He’s been away forever it seems, first at college and then in Egypt. “Is Dad with you?”

“Yeah, but you know, he and Mom have to catch up.” He wiggles a brow. “At least they have a door. Those tent sessions they used to have could get awkward.”

I laugh and we settle into the seats. He kisses my head. “How’s school?”

“Miserable,” I confess. “I want to be in the field with you and Dad. So does Mom.”

“Finish school. It’s good for you.”

“You left college.”

“Dad needed me in the field and I didn’t leave. I’m working for school credit and you know I have windows of time when I’m in class.”

“Right. I guess.”

He sighs.“How’s Luke?”

“He took off to college in Austin.”

“Good thing I’m not there much. Don’t like the way the bastard looks at you. He’s lucky I don’t beat his ass.”

A hotspot forms in my chest. I’ve missed how he protects me. I miss our family. “Why do you hate him so much?”

“He’s a user, known for bed-hopping and then bragging afterwards. I don’t want you becoming a conquest.”

“Like you don’t bed-hop.”

“Out of necessity and because I’m not a one woman kind of man. I don’t live a life that supports a girlfriend, but I don’t brag and I don’t make promises I can’t keep.”

Because he’s a goodbye waiting to happen. “When do you leave again?”

“Two days.”

The hotspot is now an ache. Two days. “Oh.”

“We’ll be back for your eighteenth birthday.”

In six months. I guess I’m supposed to cheer up now.

A loud sound jolts me and I sit up. “What happened?”

“We need gas,” Meg announces, and I glance around to find we’re at a gas station and her door is open. “You’ve been asleep about an hour.”

“Asleep,” I repeat, and frown with Luke’s name in my head. Luke. I know why I dreamed of my brother, but why does Luke keep showing up in my dreams? At least they are dreams, not flashbacks with blackouts, I remind myself.

“Want anything from inside?” Meg asks.

My stomach rumbles. “I need a snack, but I think I’ll go to the bathroom.”

“Just get whatever you want and put it at the register.” She climbs out of the car and shuts the door.

Grabbing my purse, I go still with a memory. My fake boss in Denver was named Luke. My fist balls over my racing heart. Chad had been trying to tell me he was alive. Don’t like the way the bastard looks at you. He’s lucky I don’t beat his ass. No. Chad, being bossy, macho Chad, had been trying to tell me he was about to beat Liam’s ass.

“Damn it,” I whisper. “He’s not the enemy.”

Shoving open the door and shivering against the cold, I glance at Meg over the hood. “I’m freezing. I really need clothes and a coat of some sort to make it the next few days.”

“Oh gosh, yes. I’m sorry.” She pops the trunk and opens it, displaying a couple of suitcases, unzipping one and handing me a jacket with a hood. “We can grab you some stuff on the road, too.”

I nod and slip on the jacket. “Any idea why Chad would have put a camera in the computer you gave me to use back in Denver?”

She snorts and shuts the trunk. “Yeah. He didn’t trust Liam Stone. He was determined to find a connection between him and the men he was in trouble with.”

I was right. The name Luke had been no accident, but it’s just creepy thinking my brother would tape me. What if he’d seen Liam and I having sex? Did he? The thought is choke-worthy. I refocus on Meg. “Did Chad find a connection to Liam?”

“No. Not before he...you know. I’m shocked you found out about the camera. He was confident you wouldn’t.”

I don’t say anything and I’m confused by how she claims to not know anything about how Chad had set up my living situation, and yet she knows so much. My gaze lifts to the store and it hits me that I can call Liam and tell him I’m okay. I need to hear his voice. I think he needs to hear mine.

I motion to the door and start walking when Meg calls out, “Amy.” Turning I tilt my head in silent question and she says, “Either he’s one of them and he’ll kill us the minute he has what he wants, or he’s not, and they’ll kill him for getting involved.”

Suddenly the ice in my blood is far colder than the winter air chilling my bones. I don’t reply. She’s right. I can’t involve him. I have to let that idea go. I give her a choppy nod and start walking, and it hits me that I was wrong. She has thought about what happens when and if we hand over whatever these people want from us.

Inside the store, I find the bathroom, where I lock the door and let air rush out of my lungs. Think, Amy. Think. But nothing comes to me. I have no plan. I walk to the sink and the girl in the mirror is a horror show of puffy eyes, no makeup, and witchy blonde hair. My hand flattens on my belly where my reason to survive above all else rests. I’m going to figure out an answer. I just have no idea how.

Wanting the comfort the gun offers, I flip open my purse, and instead stare at the contents: a makeup bag that I unzip to find well-stocked, a brush, hairspray and a wallet. If the make up bag is stocked....I grab the wallet and flip it open, to stare at the wad of cash inside and the black American Express Liam had once given me and I’d discarded, that he’s replaced. Liam has made sure I was taken care of and then some.

Without a bra to tuck the cash into, I take off my shoes and distribute it between them. I hold the credit card in my hand and I’m certain it’s being monitored. One swipe at a register would tell Liam where I’m at, but Meg’s warning rolls through my head. They’ll kill him. It’s not the first time she’s said it. I’m convinced that at least part of her story is true. And of Chad being alive. I believe he’s alive. One swipe of the credit card and I know Liam will be alerted to where I am. I stick the credit card in my shoe, my dire emergency plan, and my way to reach Liam when I’m ready. Which will be when I know he won’t end up dead like everyone else in my life.

Meg is at the register when I exit and I gather a couple of protein bars and some fruit. We are just settling into the car when Meg’s phone rings. Her eyes go wide, terror in their depths. “My purse.” She starts scrambling for it. “Where is it? That’s the phone. That’s the one they gave me.”

My heart jackhammers and I search behind us and on the floorboard, grabbing it and handing it to Meg. The phone stops ringing.

“No!” Meg shouts and hits the steering wheel, her head dropping onto it, her long hair draped over her face.

“Try to call it back,” I urge, wondering why I doubt someone this distraught, but I do.

She lifts her head, tears streaking her cheeks. “Been there, done that. It doesn’t work.”

The phone beeps with a text and she glances down and goes even paler than she already is. “What is it?” I whisper, barely able to breathe.

She hands me the phone and I read the message, my blood running cold. You’re wasting time that Chad doesn’t have in gas stations and highways. Get on a damn plane and get me what I want or your lover boy is dead.  

Meg turns to me and grabs my arm, her fingers pinching into my flesh. “What do we do? What the hell do we do?”

There is one answer and it is both right and wrong in every way. We go to Texas, where this started and deep down, I’ve always known it will end. Liam will find me there, though, and it’s clear we’re being watched. But I’ve warned him he’s in danger. He’ll play it cautious, and watch me from a distance like they, whoever they are, seem to be doing. I might even be safer for that reason. He won’t charge into Jasmine Heights and claim me as his. Who am I kidding? This is Liam Stone I’m talking about. Yes. Yes, he will. And these people I’m dealing with have killed before. They’ll kill again. They’ll kill him if I don’t find a way to protect him.

Meg grabs my arm. “Amy. Please. What do we do?”

“We go to a cheap hotel where we shower, change, eat real food, and sleep at least two hours. Then we figure it out.”

“We should figure it out now.”

“No, we don’t. We need to figure it out right. The wrong move and people die.” And no one else is dying on me. That’s the only “The End” I’ll accept.

Chapter Sixteen

Three hours later, we’re back on the road and pulling into the airport after sleeping for a couple of hours and showering. I’ve borrowed a bra that’s a size too big, a pink tank top, jeans, and a jacket from Meg, and I at least feel a little human.

Meg parks her Volvo in the long-term section of the Philly airport, and hangs up the phone after calling the airline. “We’re good. The flight that leaves in thirty minutes is still under-booked.”

“How under-booked?”

“Thirty percent.”

“That’s perfect. We can buy a ticket at the gate right now and get a seat.”

“Liam Stone has money and power. He’s still going to be able to see you used your ID for the flight.”

“You keep saying that.”

“Because I’m right.”

Yes. She is. “That’s why I have to distract him. I assume that phone you’re using is under an alias since you helped Chad relocate me?”

She nods. “Yes.”

“Then I need to use it to call Liam.”

Her eyes go wide. “What? Are you crazy?”

“I’m going to convince him I’m in Denver and on the run. He’ll get everyone working for him focused on finding me there. It won’t keep him away forever, but maybe it will be long enough for me to figure this all out.” She doesn’t look overjoyed. I’m sure not. “It’s the closest thing to a solution we have.”

She hands me the phone. “You have to make him believe you’re in danger.”

I take it and turn away. “I know.” And I dread this clear to my soul. I take a moment to think of my story, then punch in the number I’m thankful I still remember. He answers almost immediately and how he knows it’s me, I don’t know, but he says, “Amy?”

The dark, gravelly richness of his voice ripples down my spine and I can barely breathe.

“Amy? Is that you, baby? I need to hear your voice. Tell me it’s you.”

The desperation and worry in his voice rips through me like a blade. “I can’t talk,” I whisper. “I snuck a phone. I’m in Denver. I...oh God. They’re coming. I...Denver, Liam. I don’t know where, and–” I hang up and drop my head to the seat, biting my bottom lip and willing myself not to cry. A horrible knotting sensation in my stomach starts and I pop the door open and get sick.

 “Amy. Oh God. Amy are you okay?” Meg shoves some kind of fast food napkin at me and I take it, wipe my mouth, and grab the navy jacket she’s given me and my purse. “Let’s go before we miss this flight.”

* * *

Once we are inside the airport, Meg and I head to the bathroom, but the minute she’s in the stall, I dart away and find a locker to store my gun inside. It kills me to leave the security it offers behind but I’m without an option. She is, of course, frantic when she finds me but I soothe her by telling her I was looking for a Ginger Ale for my stomach, and she helps me locate a Sprite instead.

Now, I’m unarmed and on a plane headed to what I am certain is danger. I spend the first hour of the flight dozing off and on with Liam’s voice in my head. Is that you, baby?I need to hear your voice. I love him. I love the way he calls me baby. I love that he cares this much and I hate what I did to him on that call. I hate it so much.

Somehow, I force down the snack that is served, and sleep afterwards. I wake to my hand hitting a stack of pictures Meg has set on my lap. I can barely swallow as I look at shots of Chad.There’s one of him laughing and there are fine lines by his eyes that didn’t used to be there. This is a recent shot, the six years showing in his face. He looks older, more mature, a fully developed man like Liam. And amazingly, now that I see Chad’s face, I can look at other moments in my mind and see him clearly.

I touch the photo, wishing I could touch him, praying I will hug my big brother, who I thought buried beneath fire and pain. This photo feeds the hope in me. Another of him on a motorcycle. My mind replays the many times I’d seen him on one in Egypt. One more of him with Meg, his arm around her shoulder. I study it and try to see the spark between them that I know people must see between me and Liam, but it’s just not there. Maybe if he was looking at her, I’d see it.

The announcements for landing begin and I glance at Meg. “Thank you.”

“You can keep them. I have more.”

“Thank you.” I tuck the photos into my purse when I’d really like to study them longer, but I need to mentally prepare myself for what might be waiting at the gate when we land, or rather, who.

By the time we exit the plane at the terminal, I’m a ball of nerves and Meg holding on to my arm like she’s afraid someone will grab me and run, doesn’t help at all. Clearing the walkway, I scan the crowd, and a mix of disappointment and relief washes over me when my big, bossy, lovable man is nowhere to be found. “So far so good,” Meg murmurs. “Let’s hope that means your plan worked.”

“Yes,” I agree. “Let’s hope.” And I do hope. This is a miserable way to operate but it’s about protecting both Chad and Liam, the two men in my life I am blessed to have alive and well. Moving through the airport to the rental cars, despite all the reasons Liam’s absence is a good thing, I crave that sense of awareness I have when he’s nearby, that odd prickling of my skin and the singing of my soul that he creates. But it doesn’t come. He does not come.

By the time we exit the rental van to pick up our car, the warm Texas November has me tying my jacket at my waist, and fairly confident that we aren’t looking at any roadblocks of the Liam Stone nature. Once we’re settled in some sort of gray Dodge, we pull onto I-35 for the two hour drive to Jasmine Heights. I sink down into the seat and ball my fists on my legs. I’m going to face the Godzillas of my past without Liam.

“At least it’s a short drive,” Meg comments. “Thirty minutes according to the GPS.” She pauses and I feel her look at me. “You okay?”

I don’t look at her. “Yes.”

She’s quiet a moment. I want her to stay that way. She doesn’t. “You think they’ll kill him if we don’t jar your memory in Jasmine Heights?”

A vise-like sensation tightens around my windpipe. I force out air to reply. “I think they’ll hurt him or someone else I care about.”

“Like Liam.”

“Yes,” I agree, and the word is lead on my tongue. “Like Liam.”

We fall into blessed silence, and I stare straight ahead, willing myself to be calm and collected, terrified the answer to all of this isn’t in my head, or if it is, I won’t remember it in time to save Chad and Liam. My brother has to be alive and he has to stay that way. I can’t lose the brother I just found again and I can’t lose the man who has brought me back to life. But my track record of love and loss is terrifying.

“Jasmine Heights city limits,” Meg announces and I sit up straight, staring at the sign I thought I’d never see again. She asks, “Any hotel preference?”

“I don’t know.” I don’t care. “Stay on this road and take the Snyder exit.”

“Sure. You know this place. I don’t.”

I direct her to the exit and through several twists and turns. “Here,” I say at the final turn and frown at the shopping center at the edge of my old neighborhood. I point to the residential street.

“This isn’t a hotel.”

“No. It’s my old house.”

“Where?”

Where, is right. It’s now a restaurant. My house is a restaurant. “Pull into the driveway.”

“Shouldn’t we get a motel first?”

“Pull in, Meg,” I bite out.

“Fine. Fine. I’ll pull in.”

She parks in the front row to the right of the door. I stare at the fancy red and white brick building with a big sign that reads “Red Heaven Restaurant.” The irony of the word “heaven” does not escape me. Though the population of this city has grown from ten thousand to nearly twenty since I was last here, it was, and is, still small enough that everyone knows what happened here.

“Red Heaven,” I whisper.

“I’m not sure what kind of food it is,” Meg says. “Did you want to go in and see?”

I think about the fact that some patron or patrons are sitting at a table that might well be the same spot my mother screamed while she burned alive. “Evil,” I say.

“What? The food is evil? That’s a new one.”

I don’t speak to her. I can’t speak to her. My gaze travels over the building again and goes back to the sign. It’s an insult. A battle cry and a threat. I expect pain, and a flashback that takes me down. Instead, there is a burn in my chest and tension in my shoulders. My jaw clenches and I shove open the car door.

“I guess we’re going to eat evil food,” Meg mumbles and I ignore her, charging for the door.

I grab my purse and on the way to the door, fix it cross body over my chest. Pushing open the doorway, I’m in a homey restaurant with hardwood floors and wooden tables with comfy chairs. Homey being the operative word. Like the home it once was.

“Who owns this place?” I ask the twenty-something girl behind the wooden hostess stand before she can speak. And God, I think she’s the kid I use to babysit a few blocks from here.

Her dark brown brows dip. “Do I know you?”

“No. You don’t know me. I need the name of the owner.”

“Sheridan Smith. He owns everything around here.”

So Derek had said. “Do you have a business card for him?”

“The manager might. She’s behind the bar right now.”

“Did we get a table?” Meg asks.

A shiver of unease slides down my spine and the source seems to be Meg. Aware that my nerves are jumping and my mood is suited for a tornadic event, I don’t try to understand it. “I’m going to the bathroom.” I start walking, praying she won’t follow. I intend to head to the bar and I do not want Meg to be a part of this.

Frustrated, I follow the bathroom sign and push open the door, thankful it’s made for one. Turning to lock up, I never get the chance. A man shoves into the door and shuts it behind him, giving me his back, his long, light brown hair tied at the nape, while he locks the door himself.

My heart races and my hand goes to my purse, but he’s turned before I can make a move, and where I’d once thought him rugged bad-boy hotness, I know better now. He’s danger in a way Liam never was.

I clutch the strap of my purse. “What are you doing here, Jared?”

“I have a message from Chad.”

I blanch, but for some reason I’m not as shocked as I think I should be. I think I always knew Jared was more than just my next door neighbor in Denver. “Let me see your tattoo.”

“I’m not a part of your brother’s Underground Society, but I think the message will clear up the trust issues.” He holds up his phone and sets it on the counter, then pushes play.

Jared, it’s Chad.

At the sound of my brother’s voice, my hand leaves my purse and my back hits the wall, the air gushing from my lungs. Tears burn my eyes. He’s alive. Deep down, a part of me hadn’t allowed myself to really believe it could be true.

You were right on the ping on Lara, the voicemail continues, I moved her to Denver as we’d planned but there’s trouble. I have to make arrangements. I need you to come here and look out for her for a couple of weeks. Fuck. I have to go. I need you here. I have to protect my fucking sister, man.

And there it is. Proof Chad has been alive all these years and an explanation as to why Jared felt so familiar. On some soul-deep level, I think that Chad must be that odd attachment I felt to Jared in Denver. I felt a bond with him to my brother. “Tell me I haven’t lost him before I find him again.” My voice quakes, the fear digging a hole in my already bleeding heart.

“I don’t know where he is, but I promise you, I’m trying my damnedest to find him.”

“Not the answer I want.” My throat is raw and scratchy.

“It’s the only one I have to give.”

I hate that reply as much as Liam must have when I used it on him. “What did he mean by ping?”

“I’m what you might call a tech expert—”

“Might?”

“I’m a hacker, legit now, but I wasn’t always. I use those skills to monitor internet chatter that involves you or your brother and set up pings or notifications if a match occurred. I wasn’t the only one watching you. You went to work at the museum and someone had a wide search that fit the profile of your employment which triggered my pings.”

“So I did this? I made this hell start all over?” I don’t know why I’m asking. I know I’m responsible.

“No. You didn’t do this. Chad did this, but I think you know that.”

“Know this? I know nothing. Nothing. I am living on the run and I didn’t even know what you knew, that my own brother was alive.”

Suddenly I’m against the wall and his hands are by my head. “Shhh. You have to be quiet.”

“I have to do a lot of things. Hide. Change my name. Lie. I have to lie a lot. Don’t lie to me, Jared.”

“Sweetheart–”

“And don’t call me sweetheart, or Lara for that matter. I’m Amy and I’m staying Amy and you’d better not be here to tell me I’m Mary or Casey or Sandy. I’m Amy.”

He stares at me for several beats and says, “Amy. I didn’t come to change your name. I came to save your life and I hope like hell, Chad’s, while I’m at it.”

“How do you even know him? Why do you care?”

He pushes off the wall, leans on the sink, his face turning all hard lines and shadows, like he doesn’t like the story he has to tell. “Back when we were at UT together, my sister was dying of cancer and the insurance wasn’t paying for all of the treatments. I can hack. I told you that, and I’m damn good at it. I started doing it for money and Chad knew. What I didn’t know was that he was in deep with some powerful rich assholes, doing some of his own dirty work.”

“What kind of dirty work?”

“Oil guys is all I know. Your dad got involved and got nervous. Chad took over and formed his Underground of followers. I had a sister who had no one but me. I didn’t want to know more and he didn’t offer.”

My stomach roils with the memory of the stranger handing my father the envelope. I believe what Jared’s saying. It adds up and it feels right.

“Chad needed a job done,” he continues. “And it paid four times any job I’d done and  I was getting paid well. He knew I’d keep my mouth shut and I trusted him to keep me out of his loop of people.” His voice tightens. “My sister had five more years because I did that job and Chad and I lost contact. Until the fire. He needed to make you both disappear, and like your brother did my sister, I became your guardian angel and back-up plan.”

“And the man who brought me the paperwork and money to disappear with?”

“No idea. I just created your identity.”

“And Meg?”

“Yes. And Meg.” His voice bites on her name.

“She says she’s Chad’s wife.”

He snorts. “Yeah well, I never heard about a wife. Granted I’ve talked to him all of three times in six years, but I also didn’t hear him asking me to protect his wife on that message. And Chad was a lot of things, but he isn’t someone to turn his back on responsibility, even if love was gone. He’s a man’s man. He’d protect those who count on him to the death.”

“Yes. Yes, he would.”

“I also don’t think Meg would be sticking her tongue down some guy’s throat when she thinks her husband is missing now either, would you?”

“What? What guy?”

He punches a button on his phone and hands it to me, the display showing a photo of  her in an embrace with a man twenty-plus years older than her. And I don’t need a forward shot to know that he’s the same man who’d been cuddling up to my mother and arguing with my father. “Who is he?” I look at him. “Who is he?”

“You’ve seen him before.” It’s not a question.

“Yeah. Arguing with my father, then my brother, and sticking his tongue down my mother’s throat.”

His gaze sharpens. “Sounds like we have a lot to chat with Meg about, doesn't it?”

“Yes, we do.” But I barely get the declaration out for the splintering in my brain. I sway and Jared closes the distance between us and grabs me. “Whoa. Easy there, sweetheart. You okay?”

“God, I hate that word.” I suck in a breath, resting my head on his chest and curling my fingers around his shirt. “But yes. Okay. Give me...a minute. Or...two...”  Prickling begins in my head and I both welcome it for the memory I need to embrace and curse the timing.

“Amy?”

At the sound of Meg’s voice, my head jerks up, sending shooting pain through my skull and I blink into Jared’s worried light brown eyes. He presses his fingers to my mouth, giving me a silent warning.

I nod, my mind racing. “Yes,” I call out. “I’m fine. I’m sick again. Can you get me a Sprite or something, please?”

“Oh. Sure. Be right back.” Footsteps sound and fade.

His hands close on my shoulders, too intimate, too like the way only Liam should, but not exactly wrong without being right. “We need to move now,” he says. “Are you able to?”

“I’m fine. It’s just–”