Lies(64)

Ironic, really, given the way the day started.

“I told him it wasn’t a high-threat situation.” I could feel my voice rising in volume with each word. Back and forth I march, gaining even more momentum. It hurts to feel this much. Just like it hurts to be without him. “Maybe if I hadn’t ignored his concerns, this wouldn’t have happened.”

Fox, however, simply inspects her nails, calm as can be. “Anger. Stage two. This is such a sad process to watch.”

I stop cold, lips pressed tight together. “He left me a lot of money. More than I know what to do with. But I’d give every cent of it to get him back.”

“Bargaining. Stage three,” she says. “It’s heartbreaking to see you this way. Truly. But at least we’re progressing.”

For fuck’s sake. I’d attack her if I thought there was even the slimmest chance of getting a hit in. So instead I slump back onto the sofa, the fight gone clear out of me. “Guess he didn’t love me after all if he could leave me this way.”

“Depression. Stage four. Please hurry up and move on to acceptance. I don’t have all day to deal with your mopey ass. Bear and Crow can tiptoe around your delicate little feelings all they want, but I have better things to do.”

“Oh, go away, would you?” I groan. “I’ll clean the house and take a shower, I promise. I’ll even track down a gun or two. Just leave me alone.”

“You promise?”

“That’s what I said.” I half-heartedly lob a throw cushion in her general direction.

Fox plucks it out of the air neatly. “Really, now. No need to get hostile.”

“You broke into my house!”

She rises from her seat, takes a deep breath. “Yes, well, make sure I don’t have to again. I’m a busy woman and girl talks aren’t really my forte.”

“Whatever. Get out.”

“I’m gone. Remember your promise. And take a walk—get some sun.” She heads toward the door. “Put on the alarm once I’ve left and let’s never do this again.”

“On that at least we agree.”

Her reply is the slamming of the door.

Truth is, I don’t know how to pick myself up from this. But I guess showering and getting some fresh air is as good a start as any. And if it stops Fox from breaking into my home, that’s a positive. Then there’s everyone else always popping in for a visit and giving me worried looks. At least I’ll be able to say I did something and hopefully get them off my back for a while. I don’t want to build a life without Thom. But no one’s giving me much of a choice.

“Fine,” I say to an audience of none. “I’ll go for a walk.”




It’s your typical beautiful spring day in California. The sun shining in a blue sky, the birds singing their hearts out. It’s been almost four months since the horrors of my wedding day, and just as I’d promised, I actually pulled my life together. I cleaned myself and the house. I got some sun. None of it had been easy, but staying busy helped. And at least Crow, Bear, and Fox have stopped watching me constantly—checking that I’m using the security system, making sure I’m being careful when I go out. All of that got old real fast.

Jen helps me carry the groceries in from the car. Lots of organic fruit and vegetables since I’m looking after myself these days. I turn off the house alarm, hit the button for the garage door to close, and head into the kitchen. That’s when it happens.

Clad in all black and wearing a balaclava, the man dashes in beneath the slowly descending garage door with a gun in his hand.

Jen screeches in fright, dropping a basket of food. Apples and oranges roll across the floor. His gun is matte black and long, care of the silencer fitted to the end. He aims and fires.

It all happens so fast. Jen staggers backward into the kitchen. She tumbles to the floor, but not before I can see red blossoming across her chest.

“No!” I shout. “Jen!”

The garage door shuts and the man’s on me in an instant, grabbing me by the arm. Not that I could do anything anyway. My handbag with my small pistol inside is still in the car and all of Thom’s weaponry is gone. The guns, the flash grenades, both stockpiles from the safe room and the safe in the garage floor. A few months ago I’d tracked down Henry in his bunker in the forest, and said he was welcome to anything he could find in the house. The wily old survivalist promised me his immortal soul after he found the contents of two more weapons caches I hadn’t even known about. It’s not like I knew how to use or would have use for the bulk of the stuff. Though I did keep a few other pistols. Unfortunately, they’re in gun safes upstairs, likewise beyond my grasp.

If only I had them now.

The guy’s grip is strong as he ushers me into the house. He pulls me past Jen’s body without a moment of pause. The front of her shirt is almost completely red.

My breathing is heavy and sobs come from my chest. “What do you want? Who are you? Why did you have to kill Jen?”

“Move it,” he orders in a deep, rasping voice. At the kitchen table, he drags out a chair. “Sit down.”

I do as told. “Please don’t hurt me.”

In no time at all, my hands are tied behind my back, linked to the wooden chair so I can hardly move. “There’s some jewelry upstairs. Some money in my purse.”