Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
With that, knowing there was nothing else for me to do, I made my way back into the woods, grabbing the bag, then getting in the car, and heading back to the clubhouse.
Where I did what I said I would do.
I showered, changed, washed my clothes, and gave the guys a breakdown of events. And even told them about the plan I had for the future, to finally finish this all up.
No one was happy about it.
But everyone accepted that it was probably the best thing to keep suspicion off of Lana.
With that, I tried to shake off the rage and tension and uncertainty about Lana’s feelings on the whole situation, I made my way back to the car that had already been cleaned by one of the guys.
I was halfway home when A proved right.
The sky opened up and poured fucking buckets of rain.
I wasn’t too worried about trace evidence.
I’d been careful not to let my own hands get broken open, so I didn’t leave blood. And he hadn’t gotten a chance to scratch at me, to get DNA under his fingernails.
It would all shake out in our favor.
If Lana was willing to go through with the next part.
I walked into the house, finding Sully and Callow passed out on the couch. The kids were upstairs, out cold too, but Kit and Layna were in the kitchen, drinking coffee.
“Oh, good,” Kit said, exhaling hard as she looked at me, her gaze moving over my body, looking for any injuries.
“That was… efficient,” Layna decided, nodding at me.
“It was… an easy job,” I said, knowing I couldn’t give the girls details. “Thanks for this. How’s Lana?”
“She was sleeping last I checked on her,” Kit said.
“Thanks for this, guys. I appreciate it.”
“Oh, we had the easy part. Clara is a doll. But those other two ran Sully and Callow ragged for hours. I think the guys passed out faster than the kids,” Layna said, smiling. “You need anything else from us?”
“No. No, thanks. I got it from here.”
“Okay. We’ll rouse the troops and head out,” she said, following me into the living room where she slapped Sully’s cheeks to wake him up.
I was already upstairs when I heard them pulling out of the driveway.
I checked in on the kids, making sure they were still out cold, before I went into my room.
Where I found Lana sitting up in bed, looking like she’d been up for a while.
“Hey, what are you doing up?” I asked.
She looked over at me, relief washing through her like a wave, erasing some of the tension in her shoulders.
But not all of it.
“I was thinking,” she said as I kicked out of my shoes and went toward the bed.
“About what?” I asked, getting in with her.
“I have to go back, don’t I?” she asked, eyes sad, but seemingly resigned.
“Yeah, baby, you have to go back. But just for a little while. Then you and the kids will be here. With me. Where you belong.”
She curled into me then, her head on my chest.
“That sounds good,” she decided. “Perfect, even.”
“Lana,” I called as her arm wrapped me up tight.
“I love you,” she blurted out.
“Hey, I was going to say that,” I said, feeling my lips curve up even as my heart swelled in my chest.
“You still can,” she said, tilting her head up to look at me.
Lifting my hand to rest on her cheek, I smiled down at her.
“I love you,” I told her, meaning it down to my fucking bones. “And I love your kids too.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Lana
My phone vibrated in my hand.
Well, my temporary phone.
The one with hardly anything inside of it.
Save for my outgoing messages. One, to Simon, telling him I’d misplaced my phone, so I’d gotten a new one, and that the kids missed him,—yeah, it killed me a bit to even type that—that we couldn’t wait for him to get home. The next, asking if I’d gotten his return date wrong.
See, when I’d woken up and some of the headache had lifted, everything came into laser-sharp focus.
Namely, that if I was living in Navesink Bank, and Simon had been killed in or near Navesink Bank, that I would clearly be the main suspect.
The only way to take that focus off of me, as Seth and I had both concluded separately, then confirmed together, was for me to go back.
Back to my old house. A place where trauma sat stacked in the corners, where the art on the walls had sat and watched all the screaming and begging and violence and pain.
My blood was cold as Seth turned the car into the driveway, idling beside my old car that hadn’t moved an inch since I’d last been inside of it.
“You sure you’re okay with this?” Seth asked as I hitched my purse up on my shoulder, so my hands would be free to grab my baby bag and the pumpkin seat.