Behind the Lies (Montgomery Justice #2)(56)

“If I were a true superhero, I’d be able to resist you. Guess this proves I’m a mere mortal after all,” he said softly.

His lips hovered over hers. His hand circled from her shoulder to her back, and she plastered herself tighter against him. She circled his waist with her arms, in a never-ending gift.

He needed to feel. She made him feel again.

She parted her lips.

His mouth pressed slowly to hers.

A loud explosion sounded much too close. The ground shifted under his feet.

Zach tore his lips from hers and jerked his gaze to the horizon. The sky had turned red with fire. He knew the location. His haven. His solitude. The last of his communications and equipment were a fiery ball.

They’d been found.





* * *





Chapter Eleven




* * *





THE FIRE HAD consumed everything. Hours later, ash still floated through the wind, peppering the cove of trees and ground around Jenna. Nothing remained of Zach’s cabin—his home. Family pictures had hung on the walls, unlike his La Jolla mansion. The California estate had been a movie star’s show house—the one that appeared in magazines or on television shows. She’d believed the glass and stone to be a reflection of Zach’s soul. Now, she knew better.

The powder prickled her nose, and a small cough escaped her. They’d watched from afar as the firefighters doused the blaze, then soaked the land around Zach’s house. Wet cinder and twisted metal littered the ground.

The devastation choked her throat. She pulled Sam closer into her arms, holding him tight. She rocked him close, her eyes blinking back the burn. He stuck his thumb in his mouth, watching Zach’s every movement.

Sam’s Dark Avenger knelt at the edge of the structure where a small pipe emerged from the ground. He hadn’t let a modicum of emotion or dismay show. He’d set his jaw and, after the firefighters finally disappeared on their trucks, he’d begun sifting through the little that remained of the cabin.

Zach dug in the debris. He pulled out a lump, then flicked the ash and dirt away. Jenna leaned forward, squinting. She couldn’t quite make it out. Metal, perhaps? His face froze like stone. He clutched the item before picking his way back to them.

“The car’s toast,” he said, stating the obvious. “So is the helicopter.” He tossed the metal gadget in his hand, then stuffed it into his back pocket. “Whoever did this was a professional. The detonator wasn’t jerry-rigged.”

“I’m sorry,” Jenna said, tightening her arms around Sam. A detonator meant explosives. She knew who had destroyed Zach’s house.

He shook his head. “No, I’m sorry. Once the paparazzo showed up, I should have gotten you two out of here. It was only a matter of time.”

He knelt down in front of her and Sam. The icy-blue depths of his eyes held no blame, only concern and sorrow. He said nothing about Sam’s escapade delaying them. Her gaze darted from his. They both knew the truth. If not for Jenna and her son, Zach would have been starting a new life, with everything he needed.

Now, he had nothing.

“We have to create new identification,” he said, stuffing what remained of their supplies into his backpack. “Then we get you as far away from me as possible.”

“I agree we should separate, but not for your reasons.”

Sam whimpered in her arms. Jenna shushed him and met Zach’s gaze, unwilling to flinch. The time had come to stop hiding the truth from her son, no matter how much it hurt. “Brad did this. When I researched his so-called accidents, he set explosives near gas lines. It fits.”

“Whether Brad or my company set the charges doesn’t matter,” Zach said. “It doesn’t change what we have to do.” He slung the pack onto his good shoulder. “We can’t hang around any longer.”

Sam tugged at her shirt.

“Not now, baby.”

He tugged again. “Did Daddy burn down Mr. Montgomery’s house?”

Jenna winced and crouched down to stare at her son. “We don’t know, Sam.”

“He was mad when I talked to him,” Sam whispered, burying his face in her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Mommy.”

Sam’s words drained the blood from her face. She lifted her son’s chin. “When did you speak to him?”

He swallowed a loud gulp. “I was mad ’cause Mr. Montgomery kissed you. I called Daddy. I didn’t mean to get the house burned down.”

Jenna’s hands clawed into the earth at her sides, the pine needles digging into her palms. She gripped the dirt in a futile attempt to keep her wits. “How did you get hold of him?”

“I stole Mr. Montgomery’s phone,” Sam said, head bowed. “Am I in as much trouble as Daddy?”

Jenna could do nothing but close her eyes and hold Sam close. “Oh, baby.” She shook her head, her chin brushing his soft hair. She met Zach’s somber gaze.

“Daddy’s not a real bad guy,” Sam said, his lower lip quivering, the uncertainty tingeing each hopeful word. “He just got mad. I’m sure he’s sorry.” Sam pulled the phone from his pocket.

The muscle over Zach’s jaw pulsed. He let the pack drop off his shoulder and stretched out his hand. Jenna handed the phone to Zach.