Behind the Lies (Montgomery Justice #2)(6)

Her heart pounded and a niggling skittered up her spine. “Let’s go, Sam,” she called up to the second floor, trying to keep her voice steady. She could do this. A few more minutes and they would be free—then she’d have to figure out how to get out of this mess. But she would—for him.

He sulked down the stairs, his chin dropped, holding a baseball glove and ball in his hand.

Not subtle at all.

“Good choice,” she said with a smile. At least she could speak the truth about one thing. Sam could play baseball anywhere. They would find a new life. Somewhere.

The sound of the automatic garage door opening slammed shut the hope. It couldn’t be. He hadn’t had time to get here from the airport. Unless he’d taken an earlier flight. Stupid, stupid.

“Sam.”

His eyes widened. “What’s wrong, Mommy?”

She grabbed his shoulders. “I don’t have time to explain. Someone bad is breaking in the house. We’ve got to run. Don’t make a sound.”

She’d thought he would argue, but the panic in her voice must’ve gotten through to him. She’d scared him, but hell, she was terrified. If Brad found her, she was dead. Then what would happen to Sam?

She took one last glance toward the hallway leading to the garage. Her duffel sat there waiting. The money. Their future. But she couldn’t risk going for it.

She clutched Sam’s hand and ran to the back entrance.

“What about my ball and glove?”

“There’s no time.” She struggled with the doorknob. She sucked in a deep breath.

For Sam.

She opened the French doors leading into their large, elaborate backyard. She twisted the lock and closed the door behind them.

A waterfall trickled to the side, hiding any noise they made. Maybe…just maybe…she tugged Sam across the grass, behind a grove of trees, into what her son had termed “the jungle.”

Thank God for the dense pines.

A door slammed open. “Jenna!” A voice bellowed from the back porch. “Get in this house. Now!”

Her entire body stilled, resisting the urge to follow his orders. She’d gotten into the habit of obeying to protect her son. No more. This wasn’t how life should be.

“Daddy?” Her son peeked between the leaves.

Jenna tugged him back. Anxiety had darkened his expression.

She swallowed and knelt in front of Sam. “Listen to me, honey. I need you to help me. I’m afraid. Do you believe me?”

His gaze returned to where his father raged, kicking the patio furniture around, and nodded.

“For now, can you just trust me?”

Brad’s fierce scowl didn’t resemble the man who’d swept her off her feet. This man was definitely not Prince Charming. And he wasn’t father of the year, either.

Her son stared at his father’s expression. “Daddy can be mean sometimes.”

She kissed his forehead as Brad peered through the darkness. With a violent curse he disappeared into the house.

She had to move. Now. He’d already seen the duffel by the door. He knew she was on the run. He would search everywhere and use his contacts at the bus station, the airport, the train station. Without the stash of money or clothes, she’d have to be even more creative than she’d imagined.

Laughter filtered from the party next door. Jenna rubbed her temple. No help there. She couldn’t risk anyone knowing she was leaving. Brad could be very persuasive. She needed to disappear. Somewhere her husband would never guess.

She had no one to call. No real friends. She’d never been very social, and Brad had plucked her off the streets when she was so young. She was truly and utterly alone, except for her son.

A searchlight from the house behind theirs flickered on. Eight on the nose. Zach Montgomery’s automated security lights were like clockwork.

The actor’s house was empty. At least she could get out of sight for a few hours. Figure things out.

“We have to leave Daddy alone, don’t we?” Sam said, his voice so sad her heart wept.

“For a little while. Let’s go, baby.”

She guided her son another twenty feet through the designed chaos of their landscaping to the back wall. It was high, but they could climb the tree and drop into Zach’s backyard.

“Come on, buddy. Up and over,” she whispered.

“How long is Daddy going to be mad?”

He scampered up the wall. She’d answer his questions later. She was just thankful he believed her for now. Because if Brad found them, she was dead, and her son would be raised by an assassin.





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Chapter Two




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THE GULFSTREAM’S ENGINES were too silent. If only they’d roar so Zach didn’t have to listen. He’d never returned to the set. Theresa had ordered him to the airport, not even giving him time to pack.

He hunkered down in the private plane’s butter-soft leather seat and glared at the communication screen in front of him. His entire body vibrated with fury. His knuckles had turned white. “Do you have any idea of the problems you’ve caused? How are you going to explain my disappearance to the movie’s director?”

“I’m not,” Theresa said. Even on the video call, he recognized the pained expression on her face—and the guilt.