Behind the Lies (Montgomery Justice #2)(26)

“The Dark Avenger?” Sam’s eyes were wide.

“I think I can arrange something,” Zach muttered.

He left the room and within a few minutes Jenna heard the TV blaring from down the hall.

She tilted her head, testing the pain. Pressing her hand against her temple, she sighed, resigned to spending the night with the Dark Avenger. She found it easier to think of him as a movie star. She had enjoyed him holding her way too much, and his profession made him untouchable.

“How many times has he seen it?” Zach asked from the doorway before returning to her bedside.

Jenna shoved her musings away and shifted in the bed. Her heart sped up as his large frame filled the room. Why did the room seem so much smaller, the oxygen so much thinner?

“I stopped counting at twenty,” she choked, cursing her nervousness. “And that was the first week we bought it.”

With a grimace Zach sat in the rocking chair by the bed. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s a good movie. You were good in it.”

“Good special effects. I had nothing to do with that.” Zach propped his boot across his knee.

“You’re wrong. It’s not the explosions that make the movie special. It’s you, Zach. You gave the Dark Avenger soul. You make the audience understand honor and justice. That’s why I let Sam watch it so many times. He needed a real hero. Especially recently.”

Zach started to protest, and Jenna clutched at the quilt. “Please. Let me get this out. I need to thank you. You could have turned me in to the police. You’ve been very kind…to me and to Sam.”

“You did a hell of a quick job hot-wiring the truck,” he said. “Besides, natural curiosity dictates I have to find out how you gained such an…unusual skill.”

“I’m not as good as I used to be.” Jenna smiled for the first time since she could remember.

He quirked a brow. “And that’s not a statement I’d expect from a woman in our neighborhood.”

Jenna looked away from his speculative glance. How could she explain where she’d come from? How her life with her father had been so wonderful, only to have it ripped away—the same thing she was doing to Sam now. This time, though, she’d make sure Sam had a foundation of security to hold on to.

Zach leaned forward in the chair. “Look, I have to know what’s going on. Your husband stopped me as we were leaving. You may have heard him. He told me you have…challenges.” Zach’s jaw tightened. “Sam told me he gets angry. What’s the truth, Jenna?”

Jenna bowed her head. “Brad yells. He…loses his temper sometimes.”

“Did you ever call the police?”

Shamed, Jenna toyed with the quilt’s stitches. “He always apologized. He hasn’t always been this way. I hoped he’d turn back into the man I married.” She let out a sharp laugh. “I had no idea who I’d married. That’s the scary part.”

Zach rose and sat on the bed next to her. He covered her hand with his. “You’re obviously terrified. I could take you to the police station now.”

“I can’t. I’d be dead before they could help me.” She scooted away from him and rubbed her chilled arms with her hands.

He moved in closer, his face just inches from hers. He tilted her chin up, his gaze holding her captive. “What are you leaving out, Jenna? Convince me not to get the cops involved for your own good.”

She let out a slow sigh. “My husband is more than a computer salesman. He’s an assassin.”




Anna Montgomery sat on the sofa in her house checking the clock once again. She twisted the pearls around her neck and stared up at her husband’s picture, right next to his favorite piece of art—nothing fancy, nothing special, just the one she’d sketched of their cabin in the mountains near Kremmling. Where they’d made love on their anniversary. Where Zach had been conceived.

Five years Patrick had been gone. Five long, lonely years since she’d felt her heart beating.

The doorbell rang. Her pulse skipped and she rose, smoothing her skirt as she walked to the door.

She stared through the peephole.

It was him.

“You can do this, Anna. Just because you’re a grandmother doesn’t mean you’re dead.”

She opened the door.

John Garrison stepped inside. Her son Gabe’s former captain smiled, the crow’s-feet crinkling, his hazel eyes warming at the sight of her.

“Anna,” he whispered softly.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d come,” she said. A tingling sensation prickled at her temple. The warning sense she’d always heeded. Zach had called it her spidey sense during his superhero phase. She’d known exactly when her kids were in trouble—or lying. She stared up at John. Maybe her intuition was warning her she wasn’t ready to take this step.

“I’ve been hoping for this invitation since that barbecue three years ago,” he said.

Her cheeks grew warm. He made her heart and belly flutter like a schoolgirl. She hadn’t felt this way since…Patrick.

John strode into the living room. She closed the door. She could do this. She’d been working up the courage since that same barbecue, when he’d brushed his hand with hers and a spark of something had flared deep inside. He’d fanned the flames, slowly, gently, taking special care. Sharing a meal at a family picnic, a waltz at Luke and Jasmine’s wedding. Then just nine months ago at the hospital while Gabe was recovering, something had shifted in Anna; the spark no longer flickered, it began to glow. She recognized the truth. John was always there. She wanted him there. Still, it had taken months to call. Peeking after him, she watched Patrick’s oldest friend move about the room. He stopped at a photograph.