Back at home, after unloading everything, I change into my suit and race to the end of Linden’s newly completed dock, and cannonball off the end. The cold water swallows me, bathing my hot skin with a thousand tiny kisses, and a thought rises to the surface almost as fast as I do: I’m happier right now than I’ve been in a long, long time. The only thing missing from my life is Mom, but she’s here with me. Always.
Later, after my swim, I read my book in the sunshine, the cool lake breeze on my skin, until it’s time to get ready for my visit to the fire station. I text Linden my plan to bring ice cream, turn on a playlist, and head upstairs to shower.
Chapter Thirty
I’m just leavingthe bathroom after drying my hair when Kody dashes down the stairs in a blink of gray fur.
I continue to my bedroom and peer out the window over my driveway. It’s not like my music is blasting, but maybe it prevented me from hearing a knock on the door?
There’s a black BMW parked next to my coupe that I don’t recognize. When I whirl around to head for the door, Russel is standing at the top of the stairs, cradling Kody.
My skin jolts and I take a startled step back. “Russ! What the hell are you doing?”
He strokes Kody’s head, his purr like a small engine. “Your back door was open.”
Anger spikes my bloodstream. “So you thought you’d just come in?”
He’s wearing jeans, a Hawaiian shirt, and flip flops, but his scruffy face looks haggard and his eyes look…unwell. “I need to talk to you.”
I’ve never been scared of Russ, but…I don’t like this. He’s blocking my way out—is that his intention? Do I need to alert the police? Shit, my phone is downstairs. “You couldn’t call first?”
“No, actually,” he says, swallowing hard. He sets Kody down. Kody stretches, then saunters down the stairs. “I think they’re, um, monitoring my phone.”
A chill walks down my spine. “What are you talking about?” Who would monitor his phone?
He draws in a slow breath and squares his shoulders. “I’m going to turn myself in.”
I put up my hands, like I can stop whatever momentum he’s built up all on his own, but they’re shaking. “Stop right there, Russ, okay? You need to leave.”
“No!” His eyes flash. “Sorry.” He scrubs down his face. “When I made that silly joke about a time machine, and you smiled…I realized how much I missed that smile. How much I missed making you happy.”
Emotions swirl inside me, but it’s confusing. Why is he telling me this? And what would he need to turn himself in for?
“There was never another woman, Meg.”
The little bit of tenderness he just evoked pops like a soap bubble, giving rise to anger. “It doesn’t matter anymore, Russ.”
“It matters to me.” His nostrils flare. “Please.”
“Why?”
“Because what happens next means I might not get the chance to tell the truth. And you of all people deserve to know it.” He huffs a tight sigh. “I fucked up. I know that. But maybe, if I come clean, you’ll understand. Even forgive me, someday.”
I don’t know what he’s getting at and I really don’t need this. “Here we are again with your needs,” I mutter.
“Meg, just hear me out. I only need a minute. And then I’ll go.”
I glance over my shoulder, toward the driveway. “Is that your beemer out there?”
“Yeah.” Everett’s question rises up through my swirling thoughts.Does Russel have any expensive hobbies?The beginning of an idea is taking shape, but it’s so crazy, there’s no way…
“I never meant for any of this to happen,” Russ adds, taking a step closer, into the doorway of my bedroom.
Unease twists inside me. “Russel, I really think you should go.”
But it’s like he hasn’t heard me. “It started before we were married. I had…debts. From my pilot training, and just…being irresponsible. When we went to buy a house together, I panicked, because it would all come out. One of my private clients asked if I’d transport something for him…for a little extra. I said yes. At first, I liked the added thrill.” He face pales, and he swallows hard. “And the money. I paid off all my debts. We purchased the condo. I bought that Cessna. Before I knew what was happening, I was taking bigger and bigger risks, and things just…snowballed.”
Frustration that he’s making me listen to this pathetic B.S. gets steamrolled by my anger as I realize what’s he confessing to. “Are you talking about drugs?”
