Behind the Lies (Montgomery Justice #2)(31)

Slowly Farzam conjured a plan.

“Get me a traveling bag,” he ordered his wife.

In silence, she complied.

Slowly, he packed a change of clothes and what little money he’d managed to hide away. He knew what he had to do to succeed in his quest. Bargain with those he despised, those who cared nothing for life. He would find Zane Morgan, and the man would pay just as Farzam’s family had paid. With his life. And his soul.




Jenna hadn’t intended to sleep. She glanced at the window, but no light trickled between the shutters. Darkness had fallen on the cabin. She fingered the bandage on her forehead. How long had she been out?

She swung her legs over the side of the bed, her feet warm on the heated floor. Zach Montgomery spared no expense for his creature comforts.

Zach. The man made her flutter with conflicting emotions, and she refused to acknowledge the strange attraction haunting her. She felt safe with him, and she couldn’t believe she’d revealed so much to him. She still couldn’t understand why he wanted to help them. Who did that for someone he’d only just met?

Jenna rose from the bed and took a survey of her body. Sore, but steady. The ache in her head had muted into a dull throb, and nausea no longer gurgled in her belly, threatening to rise to her throat.

Which meant she would leave tomorrow. Into the unknown. With her son.

Swallowing down the trepidation, Jenna padded toward the kitchen. Sam’s laughter trickled out to her, the sweet voice yanking on her heart. When was the last time she’d heard her son giggle quite that way?

A low belly laugh followed and she pressed open the swinging oak door. Sam sat on a stool and threw mushrooms into a big pot. Spaghetti sauce laced with oregano wafted across the room. Her stomach rumbled.

Forcing herself to smile despite the awkward way Zach had left her room, Jenna stepped to the stove, peering into the simmering pot. “So, a man who can cook, too? Are there any more surprises?”

Zach gave her a wicked wink. “None with a G rating.”

This was a different man from the one she’d met—he was a charmer and a flirt. Zach’s gaze slowly scanned her T-shirt and jeans. Heat rushed to Jenna’s cheeks. Nothing was sexy about this outfit, except that Zach seemed to pause on each and every curve. Jenna crossed her arms in front of her and focused on her son, anything she could do to keep her attention from the man who seemed to compel her gaze toward him with every movement.

She flicked the hair off Sam’s forehead. “What are you doing, baby?”

“The Dark Avenger is making sketti, Mommy. I’m helping.” Sam tossed in a few more mushrooms.

“I can see that.”

“Do you feel like being a sous chef?” Zach asked. “We could use a salad.”

Jenna nodded and walked over to the counter where fresh lettuce and tomatoes waited on the counter.

“Did you go to the store?”

“As a distraction while you were in the CAT scan. Sam here said spaghetti was your favorite.”

“Oh, he did, did he?” She nuzzled her little boy’s cheek. “It couldn’t be that someone here decided I liked spaghetti, because it’s his favorite food.”

Sam gave Zach a sheepish look. “It’s really my favorite.”

“I got that.” Zach grinned and sprinkled in a bit of cheese.

So strange. A family cooking together. Like evenings she’d spent with her father after her mother had died. She’d wanted this with Brad, but she’d learned that first week of their marriage that Brad had very specific ideas of her role as a wife. At his beck and call. A hot meal when he chose to come home. She’d shoved the disappointment aside in exchange for her so-called perfect life. And yet, today, a movie star in a cabin in Colorado made her feel more a part of a family than her husband ever had.

Jenna finished putting together the salad and set it on the table. “Anything else I can do?”

“You must be feeling better. How’s the head?”

“Could be worse.”

A timer rang.

“Grab the garlic bread from the oven,” Zach said. “The basket’s on the table.”

Jenna tried to align the man she’d imagined to a man who had a bread basket. She quirked an eyebrow.

“My mother. She gave all of us one for Christmas a couple years ago. Said since the only dish my brothers and I knew how to make was pasta—despite her desperate tutorials in the kitchen—the only way we’d get a girl to stay past one night was if she thought we were halfway civilized.”

Jenna would love to meet the woman who clearly held the power in the Montgomery clan. “I think I’d like your mother.”

“Everyone does,” Zach said.

“Do you see her often?” Jenna asked as she carried the bread to the table.

“Not enough.” His face fell a bit. “After my dad died. Well, it was hard.”

Silence spread between them. Jenna could only offer the standard sympathy. “I’m sorry about your dad.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Zach’s mask fell away. For a moment, Jenna caught sight of something she hadn’t expected. Real pain. Real suffering.

An uncomfortable quiet settled over the kitchen, with the bubbling of sauce and Sam’s quiet humming the only sounds.

Jenna cleared her throat. “I lost my dad, too. When I was fourteen. Car accident.”