Behind the Lies (Montgomery Justice #2)(79)

The crickets chirped a mournful song through the window. If she kept her meeting with Brad, she would never live to see her son again. She longed to go to him now, but she knew she’d break down.

A soft knock sounded at the door. “Jenna,” Zach whispered.

She fell backward onto the bed, curled her body around the phone, and closed her eyes, feigning sleep.

A soft snick sounded as the door opened, then silence.

She focused on making her breathing slow and even.

A strange tension filled the room. She who had begged him for no more lies now deceived him. Her heart shattered.

Less than a minute later, the door clicked closed again, and heavy footsteps walked away. She squeezed her eyelids and a tear leaked down her cheek. She curled her arms around her abdomen and pressed tight, shoving down the shame and fears rising up into her throat.

No one could beat Brad, but he would never expect her to fight back. He’d cowed her for so many years. She would be the only one who might get close enough to surprise him—and stop him.

The longer she lay there, though, the more she doubted herself. Zach would be furious at her. He’d have gone in to meet Brad with his brothers—each armed with enough weaponry to kill ten men. She scraped her hands through her hair. What was she thinking trying to somehow surprise Brad enough to kill him with her bare hands?

She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. She didn’t want to die and leave Sam alone.

God, what a fool.

She knew what she had to do. She’d have to admit to Zach and his brothers what she’d done. They weren’t going to be happy.

She groaned and sat up. Something crinkled beneath her. She tugged the manila file folder free and stared at her name, printed on the label. Her emotions were all over the place. This burgeoning sense of disaster hovered over her.

She should go out there and face Zach.

Instead, she removed the paperclip holding the documents together and opened the file. Several photos slipped out, including her engagement picture with Brad. The edge of the paperclip dug into her finger. She slipped it into her back pocket and nudged the image aside. Her hand trembled. Sure enough, her father’s eyes stared back at her.

Beneath the newspaper clipping lay a mug shot. A prison photo. Of her father? But he’d died in an accident when she was fourteen. Maybe it wasn’t him. This man had crow’s-feet around his eyes. And the date. Only a few years ago.

It made no sense.

Her fingers trembled. She searched and found another document. A death certificate bearing her father’s name and a date. Oh God.

Not over a decade ago. Two years ago. In prison.

She scanned the paperwork. In prison for fraud, tax evasion, assault, and battery.

The heroic image she’d held for so long exploded into sharp shards that pierced her heart. Her father had been a thug.

He hadn’t died in a car wreck like she’d been told.

Another lie, but this one shook her to her core. She’d believed in him. Every cell of faith in humanity inside her came from him. And he had been a fraud.

Her stomach twisted. She gasped for air.

She’d loved her father. Believed in him.

Nothing about her life was real. Nothing. Not her marriage, not her childhood, not her life. She ripped the locket from her throat and dropped it on the floor.

Had Zach known?

She shivered again. She felt so cold. She glanced at the window. The curtains fluttered into the room, billowing.

“Mommy?” a small voice whined from the doorway.

Jenna turned her face from the window and scrubbed the tears from her cheeks. Sam tiptoed in.

“Hi, baby.” She choked the words and struggled to stop her body from quaking. She needed the one person in her life who loved her unconditionally. “Can Mommy have a hug?”

“Don’t cry, Mommy.” He ran across the room and climbed into her lap, crinkling the file beneath her. She didn’t care. She shoved the papers to the floor and clutched her son, praying he would restore the heart that had just been pulverized into oblivion.

Sam squirmed on her lap and faced her. He patted her cheek. “Everything will be OK, Mommy.” He laid his head against her breast and she rocked him, holding on to the one real person in her life.

“Tell me a story, Mommy. It’ll make you feel better.”

Stories had been her father’s way of driving away the pain, of giving her hope. The inspiration had vanished. “I don’t have any more stories, Sam.”

He sat up, his eyes wide. “None?” He gently kissed her cheek. “It’s all right, Mommy. I’ll tell you a story.”

Tears burned her eyes. She lifted Sam and sat him on the bed. Her eyes flicked to the blowing curtains. Oh, my God. The window was open…and it hadn’t been.

“Mommy. Are you all right? You’re breathing really fast.”

“I’m…I’m fine.”

But she wasn’t. She ran to the window and slammed it down. The screen was gone.

She turned around. “Run, Sam. Get out—”

Sam’s eyes suddenly grew wide. His mouth gaped open. “Mommy!”

Something slammed against the side of her head and the room went black.

She’d made a terrible mistake.




Zach looked down the hall. Had he heard something? The television on the counter droned the local newscast.