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Authors: Theresa Rite

Chat (29 page)

BOOK: Chat
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I felt like I was moving through quicksand. The terrible slow motion of what was happening stole my ability to think clearly; somehow, I reached for my phone from my pocket, dialing 911.

When the operator answered, I lowered my voice to barely a hum. “579 Chestnut Street. I need police and an ambulance.”

The operator was still talking when I dropped my phone, edging along the dark hallway toward my bedroom.

My Glock was tucked between the mattress and box springs on my side of the bed. The clip was next to it, fully loaded, and I slammed it into place before chambering a round.

Through my bedroom window, I could hear voices from the backyard.

I flattened myself beside the window, separating two blinds and peering out.

Sandy stood against a willow tree, bathed in moonlight. Jack was in front of her, holding her face, talking to her.

She was sobbing.

He had a gun in his right hand.

He was too close to her. Her dad had taught me how to shoot, and in a brightly lit range, I was pretty fucking good. In the dark, with my heart racing so fast I could hear the pounding in my
ears, I didn’t know what to do.

If I drew attention to myself, he could pull the trigger. If
I tried to take the shot, I could hit Sandy.

I could wait for the police, but I had a feeling that if Jack had gone over the deep end, that would be the one thing that would set him off.

“Jack,
please
,” Sandy sobbed.

Moving through my bedroom, I walked through the kitchen, trying not to look at Joplin. She wasn’t whining anymore, and grief threatened to take over. I remained focused on Sandy’s cries, thankful that the door between the garage and the backyard was open.

“Just come with me. Come with me, and I’ll forget this ever happened. You shouldn’t have left and got him involved.”

“Please just put the gun away,” she begged. “I’ll go with
you, I’ll do anything you ask. Please Jack.”

“If I knew he wasn’t here, I wouldn’t have brought it. I didn’t mean to shoot the dog.
Fuck, Alexandra,
” he moaned.

His hand slid over her waist, and I nearly lost control. Knowing that she was pregnant only escalated the entire situation even more.

“Just please put it down, please, don’t touch me,” she cried, flattening her back against the tree. “Jack, I’m pregnant, I’m pregnant,” she sobbed, covering her stomach protectively.

He pulled back, blinking, stunned.

“Pregnant? You and- and him?” he demanded. I could hear the anger rising in his voice, and I lifted my gun, aiming in his direction.

“Yes… yes, but I’ll go with you, if you just put away the gun, please,” she cried hysterically.

He cocked the pistol.

I had to move. He was going to snap, and if I did nothing to try and stop him, I’d never forgive myself.

I felt movement behind me, and Joplin limped between us, forcing a growling bark.

Jack turned suddenly, and Sandy dropped to a crouching position, covering her head.

I aimed and pulled the trigger.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Sandy

Jack was on the ground
, and I was in Jason’s arms.

“Are you okay? Sandy? Talk to me,” Jason was begging.

I stared at Jack’s body in horror, watching the blood soak the front of his shirt. “Did you
kill
him?
Oh God… Joplin,” she sobbed, running for the German shepherd.

He held me back, and I was locked in his arms. “No, she’ll bite, just stay here. Let me hold you. Let me hold you,” he breathed, his hands circling over my stomach. “Just stay calm. Come around the house with me.
To the driveway. Sandy.”

I was stunned. I tried to talk, but my words caught in my throat.

When Jack had arrived at the door, Joplin had gone crazy.

I screamed as he pulled the gun out from his coat, aimed, and shot her in the side.

I’d run through the house, stumbling, somehow making it out to the backyard as he followed me. I stopped at the tree near the hammock, realizing that it was as far as I could go before reaching the woods.

I didn’t want him chasing me through the woods with a gun.

“The police are coming. Sandy, can you hear me?”

“I can hear you,” I replied, my body growing unusually cold. He kissed the top of my head, his hands chafing over my upper arms.

“We’ll get through this. Just like we get through everything. Together. Just stay calm. Sandy, stay with me.”

Jack was alive. The ambulance, the police, it was all too much like last time. I let the paramedics examine me, and Jason insisted I be taken to the hospital for a prenatal exam.

“What about Joplin? Is she okay?” I begged, and Jason nodded, climbing onto the back of the ambulance with me.

“My dad’s taking her to the animal rescue. She’ll be okay. Can you check their heartbeats?” He turned his attention to a paramedic, his hand cradling my stomach.

“How far along is she?”

“Nine weeks.”

“Let’s get her to the ER. Ma’am, are you cramping?”

“No,” I managed, turning to Jason anxiously. “Call my mom. Please.”

“I already did.” He lifted my hand to his mouth, kissing softly. “We’re okay.
We’re okay
,” he repeated quietly.

He was right.

I was hooked up to a fetal monitor for hours, and after the doctor was convinced both the babies and I were perfectly healthy, I was discharged.

Jason had shot Jack in the shoulder, and when he came to, he confessed to breaking in and shooting Joplin, and then threatening me at gunpoint.

Jack was going to jail.

I spent the next day in a state of shock,
realizing how close we’d come to losing everything. When Joplin’s surgery was over, I broke into tears when the veterinarian came out to the waiting room.

“That’s a good girl you’ve got there,” he told us gravely. “She’s brave. With some time, she’ll heal.”

Jason squeezed my hand, and I could tell that he was fighting back tears, too.

We brought her home Saturday night, and we both dropped into bed, completely exhausted by nine. When I woke up from a nightmare sometime in the dark hours of morning, I heard Jason in the living room.

He was on his hands and knees, scrubbing at Joplin’s bloodstain in the carpet.

“Hey,” I called quietly. He lifted his eyes, smiling lovingly my way.

“Hey, babe. You should go back to bed. I just didn’t want you to wake up and look at this again.”

“Let’s just… not worry about it right now,” I suggested, reaching for the rug by the front door and gingerly spreading it over the dark, red stain.

Jason sat back with the brush and bucket of soapy water, smiling up at me. “Well, that’s one way to solve the problem.”

“I’m thinking new carpet might be a good wedding present to
ourselves.”

He rolled back on his ankles, backing against the couch. I lowered next to him, resting my head on his shoulder.

We stared at the dark, brown rug in silence.

Finally, after a minute, he laughed. “Guess who was at my hotel in Boston.”

I stiffened. “Who?”

“Carissa Steel.”

I counted to ten slowly, taking deep breaths. “And?”

“And she tried to rape me in the elevator.”

My temper flared, and he tucked my head against his shoulder, kissing my forehead.


And?
” I demanded.

“And, I kicked her out on her floor and caught a stand-by flight home.”

I sighed, nestling even closer to him. “Thank God you did.”


Hey.” I turned to her. “I was thinking KC and JoJo. “All My Life.” What do you think?”

I laughed softly, arching my brow. “What, for our first dance?”

“Yeah. It reminds me of our prom.”

“Oh, that was the theme, wasn’t it?” I asked, grinning. “That’s such a great song. Okay.”

“Okay? Just like that? You’re willing to relinquish Shania Twain?”


Oh, there will be Twain, trust me.”


I trust you, Boss,” he assured me, resting his hand over my stomach. “How long until we feel them move?”

“Really soon.
I’ll feel them inside of me first.”

He tipped my chin up, his eyes meeting mine. “That’s my favorite place in this whole world, Sandy.”


Where?
” I breathed, the ache stirring deep in my stomach.


Inside of you,
” he murmured, his mouth moving slowly over mine.

“You’ve been there for a really long time, Brew,” I breathed, taking his hand from my belly and pressing it to my heart.
“For as long as I can remember.”

He grinned, the Jason Brewer Grin that melted me from the inside out.

 

EPILOGUE

Sandy

When people ask how
Jason and I met, I tell them about the first day of second grade.

When they ask how we
fell in love, I reply, “Slowly…
and with great surprise.

I sat at the kitchen table with my Anna, patiently helping her fold the paper before us.

“Mommy?”

“Yes, Anna?”

Her five-year-old fingers worked to painstakingly crease each crinkle. “Will you tell me the Marry Daddy story again?”

“Again!”
I protested with a grin, and she nodded eagerly. I pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Okay, let’s see… oh, right. I met Daddy when he was flying in a spaceship somewhere near Wyoming-”

“Mommy!”
She giggled.

“Okay, okay,” I replied with a smile. “Daddy was my best friend in the whole world. When we decided to get married, you and Leo were in my belly, so I wore a dress that showed off my pretty tummy. Daddy liked that.”

“And he sang to you,” she went on, having heard the story probably a thousand times.

“Yes, he sang to me, a song he made up that was highly inappropriate but made everyone laugh. And then we held each other’s hand
s on Grandma and Pappy’s dock-”

“And you had roses and Joplin was between you!” Anna added.

“Who’s telling this story, young lady?” I teased, and she smiled up at me. “Yes, Joplin was there, and she wore a diamond collar.”

“And you wrote books!” s
he cried.

I nodded. “Yes, I wrote some books. And people liked them, so I stopped working with Daddy so I could write all the time.
And then seven months later, you and Leo were born, and you made Daddy and me into a family.”

“Daddy says you’ve
always
been his family,” she protested.

I bit my lip, smiling down at her. “That’s true. You made us into a fairy tale,” I corrected, pointing at the paper. “Okay, one more
flap. Let’s write “Walk Joplin” on that one.”

“Okay!” Anna agreed.

The sound of the garage drew our attention to the door, and my son burst through the living room.


Dad!” Leo slammed into Jason before he could lower his laptop to the floor, and Joplin was close on his heels, barking excitedly.

“Daddy,” Anna cried, wrapping herself around his left leg. Her pigtails were ringlets, dripping down her back like white chocolate twists. “
Mommy made me a toy!” She giggled.

“Mommy is very creative. And I love toys,” he said, winking my way and squatting to the twins. “What is it?”

“Mommy said it’s called a “cootie catcher.” It tells your fortune,” Anna explained, her little fingers fitting perfectly into the pink construction paper. “She said you used to make them all the time in the olden days.”

I laughed softly, and Jason grinned my way. “Yes, back when dinosaurs roamed the Earth.”

“Dinosaurs!” Leo growled, taking off after Joplin with his hands in the air.


Pick a color,” Anna urged again, lifting the fortune teller up to his chest.

Jason’s blue eyes flickered to mine for a smiling moment.
“Okay… red.”

“Red!
R-E-D,” she opened and closed the origami paper, peering inside at the triangles. “Okay, pick a number.”

“Hmm
. Four,” he answered quickly.

“One, two, three, four,” she counted, lifting the flap too soon. He ignored her disregard for the rules,
and she read the result out loud to her father. “Kiss Mommy. You have to kiss Mommy!” she squealed excitedly, jumping up and down and clapping her hands together.


Eww!
” Leo cried, chasing Joplin back through the kitchen. My son’s blond hair stuck to his forehead in sections…

BOOK: Chat
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