Behind the Lies (Montgomery Justice #2)(43)

Her son sat mutinous on the backseat. “What’s going on, Sam?”

He thrust out a stubborn chin—a lot like hers. “I don’t wanna go. I wanna stay here.”

His small legs swung against the seat.

“I know, but Zach has to leave, and we do, too.”

“Make him come with us. Please, Mommy.” He worried his T-shirt, twisting the material until she wouldn’t have been surprised if he wore a hole in it.

She gripped his small hands. “What’s the matter?”

The haunted look in his eyes tore at her heart. “Those bad men came after us. We need the Dark Avenger to keep us safe.”

“I can protect us.” Zach had given her the tools. She had to believe she could use them on her own.

“That man was going to shoot me, Mommy. He knocked you down. We need the Dark Avenger.”

Her son’s lack of faith tore at her confidence. How could she argue? “We can’t take him with us, Sam,” she said, finally. “He has other business.” An utterly lame excuse.

“Then I want to go home. Daddy can take care of us. He’s big like the Dark Avenger. And then I can go to the baseball game, too.” Sam crossed his arms in front of him and stuck out his lower lip.

She shouldn’t be surprised. He hadn’t had a lot of sleep, he’d been in a car accident, he’d slept in a strange place. She couldn’t reason with Sam when he was like this.

The burden of her choices sank on her shoulders. She sagged with its weight. “Go inside, Sam. Now.” She used the mom tone on him. It usually worked.

Indecision screwed up her son’s face, deciding how far to push her. Jenna didn’t possess the reserves to deal with him. “I mean it.”

He shoved his foot into the back of the leather seat and hopped out. He ran through the front entrance with a slam.

Zach stood inside the screen door and watched her son vanish down the hallway.

“I take it the conversation didn’t go well?”

The tension in Zach’s body had dissipated. The chill in his eyes had warmed a bit—in sympathy at least. Maybe because he was getting rid of them.

“Temper tantrum. He doesn’t know where to put all the emotions.” She scratched the heel of her palm. “He misses his dad.” Jenna raised her gaze to Zach. “How am I supposed to explain to him that he’s never going to see Brad again? He won’t understand.”

Her words trailed off as she rubbed her still-sore wrist. All she’d wanted to do was protect her son, and by doing so she’d made it impossible for him to comprehend the hard choices she’d had to make. “Am I doing the right thing?”

Zach pulled her hand in his and gentled away the ache with his touch. Jenna’s pulse skipped, then raced.

“The Chameleon is a cold-blooded bastard who kills for money. No one’s been close to identifying him as long as he’s been on my radar. I’ve seen the sheet on him, Jenna. He can’t afford to be caught. He’ll do whatever it takes to protect himself. No matter who gets hurt.”

Zach’s gaze followed Sam’s path.

The certainty in her bones when she’d packed her bags—was it only forty-eight hours ago?—returned. Jenna clasped his forearm. “Thank you for that.”

He studied her hand on his warm skin. The cobalt flecks in the depths of Zach’s eyes flared with something Jenna hadn’t recognized in far too long. Desire.

She swayed toward him, but he closed off his expression and held her shoulders. “I wish we had more time,” he whispered.

She reached up and placed her hand against his face.

“Or maybe I’m relieved we don’t. You could tempt a saint, Jenna Walters.”

“McMann,” she whispered. “Walters belongs to an assassin. My name is McMann as of today.”

“Well, then, Jenna McMann. You go inside and pack. I left a couple of suitcases besides the bags. Raid the kitchen. Take anything you need. I doubt I’ll be returning here anytime soon.” He glanced at his watch. “I want you and Sam down the mountain before dark.”

With a sigh she entered the house behind him. He veered to the stairs and she walked down the hall to the bedrooms. Sam had flopped onto the lower bunk where he’d slept, his head buried.

She touched his back. “Sam.”

He stiffened, attempting to feign sleep. She knew better. She sat on the bed next to him and drew his stiff little body into her arms. “I know this is hard. I know you’re scared.”

“If we can’t stay here, why can’t we go home? Daddy can be nice to you. I’ll ask him.”

She pushed away the hair on his forehead. “Sometimes we can’t—”

“Have what we want.” He turned away from her and huddled in the bed. “Go away.”

She sighed and rubbed his shoulder. “I’ll come get you when we’re ready. Everything will be fine. I promise.”

She left the room and went into the kitchen where the sacks were piled high next to two suitcases, just as Zach had said.

He’d thought of everything.

She unpacked the shopping bags, stunned at the items Zach had filled the cart with when she hadn’t been looking. Clothes, toiletries, even toys and a portable DVD player for Sam, along with copies of a dozen movies for Sam and several books for her. Jenna’s eyes burned as she organized the items in the suitcases.