I turn around. Simone and Zara are standing in the entrance to the living room, their eyes wide, mouths slack. I have no idea if they’re shocked because reporters are hounding me or because of what I said to Cora.
I wanted to say a helluva lot more, but not while the cameraman was recording my every word. Luckily for Cora, I wasn’t holding the open can of white paint I was using earlier. I would have thrown the contents in her face. Zero regret.
I walk into the living room and begin pacing.
I haven’t let myself get angry in a long time. Part of that had to do with fear. If I’d gotten angry with my husband, I would have felt the sharp sting of his punishment for talking back. He had torn me down bit by bit over time before I realized what was going on…and then it was too late. All the fight I’d once had prior to meeting him had burned away.
There was nothing left of me once I was locked away in prison. I’d feared even my own shadow.
What now? Those reporters and protesters will destroy everything I’ve worked hard for since I was released. They have the power to destroy my present and my future.
What did I do to deserve this? Which karma god did I piss off?
I grab a cushion from the couch, walk past Simone and Zara, and enter the laundry room. I shut the door, sink to the floor, lift the cushion to my face, and scream and scream and scream into it.
26
TROY
August, Present Day
Maple Ridge
My phone ringsfrom the van console between Garrett and me. The men behind us are laughing at what one of them just said. Garrett is driving, so I check my phone to see who’s calling.Zara.
I’d let it go to voicemail since the men in the back should be my focus for now, but for some reason unease stirs in my gut. I answer the phone. “Hey, Zar, what’s up?”
“What’s your ETA?” There’s an urgency to her tone that has me sitting straighter.
“We’re about ten minutes from the cabins. What’s up?” Cautious curiosity rides my tone. I don’t want to draw questions from the men behind me, but I do want to know why Zara’s calling.
“Do you think you can come to Jess’s house first?” Simone’s strained voice comes through Zara’s phone. The sound of it hollows out my stomach and fear for my girl claws at my skin. “Her identity is now public knowledge. And protesters and reporters are camped out in front of the house.”
Fuck.
I glance at Garrett. He can’t hear what Simone is saying. I don’t have the phone on speaker.
Frowning, he mouths,What’s going on?
“I’ll be over as soon as we get to the cabins,” I tell Simone and Zara. “Can I talk to Jess?” I want to hear her voice. I need to know she’s all right.
“She’s kinda busy right now.” Zara’s tone is no less urgent than it was before.
Now I’m the one who’s frowning. “Busy doing what?”
“Just get here as soon as you can.”
I tighten my grip on my phone, my eyes locked on the road ahead of us. “How’s. She. Doing?” My voice is low and rigid.
“Just. Get. Here.” Zara ends the call.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.What the hell is going on?
I text Jess.
Me: Zara just told me about the reporters and everything else. I’ll be there soon. How are you doing?
No dots pop up to indicate Jess is typing a reply.
