Taking Connor(76)

I nod once and look at Connor. His expression is hard and riddled with fear. He’s scared for me.

“Mrs. Stevens,” the judge calls. “Is there anything else you’d like to add?”

Turning back to face him, I take a deep breath. Closing my eyes, I say, “I’m ready for my sentencing.”





“God, you guys are so disgustingly cute,” Wendy quips as she enters the kitchen and tosses some mussed up saran wrap in the trash. “Connor just told me to tell you how beautiful you look today.”

I can’t help smiling.

We are pretty disgusting.

And incredibly happy.

I peek out the kitchen window and see Connor, Jeff, and Dusty all standing in a little circle with beers in their hands. Connor has the biggest smile on his face as he talks, throwing his head back occasionally, and laughing.

He’s happy.

I’m happy.

That’s all that matters.

I try not to think about what might have been, about going to prison, because it’s behind me now. Turns out, Leslie’s testimony was what saved me from prison. The judge had mercy on me.

I was convicted of Voluntary Manslaughter and given ten years of probation and required to perform five hundred hours of community service. My case received news coverage across the country, and many have questioned the judge’s ethics—Jim says he’s going to retire soon anyway. The judge couldn’t care less what people think of his ethics.

My conviction was ten months ago.

I took it and my sentencing gratefully, even though it meant losing my job as a teacher. Being unemployed is scary, but jail is scarier. I know everything will be okay, though, one way or another. I thought about selling the house, not wanting to live across the street from Mrs. Jenson, but she sold her home, extremely cheap as most people don’t want to buy a home where a murder has taken place. So Connor and I decided to stay for now. With me out of work and him growing his business, it just isn’t the right time.

Wendy and I finish up in the kitchen and carry out the last two dishes. It’s just a small barbecue with the people we love most. As I place the bowl of potato salad on the table, Connor comes up behind me and wraps an arm around my waist pressing his mouth to my neck and whispering, “I want you.”

Turning my head, I kiss him and whisper back, “Meet me in the house five minutes after we eat.”

He growls and squeezes my hip before quickly sitting to hide his erection. I bend down and kiss his shoulder. “Don’t worry,” I murmur. “I’ll take care of that.”

The meal is fantastic, and everyone seems to feel the same. Not one of the Tuffman children complained, so that’s success in my book. It’s been the perfect, relaxing day. I think we all needed this. Connor and I aren’t the only ones that have had problems lately. McKenzie and Mary-Anne are seeing counselors now, and we are all doing what we can to support them, doing whatever we can to help them heal. They have a long road ahead of them, but McKenzie already seems a little . . . lighter. I think finally making the secret known that she’s been carrying for so long has helped. Grayson will start special education Pre-K this year, and once Wendy and Jeff can get insurance, hopefully, they can get him more therapy. Dusty is still warding off my sister. Poor guy. Lexi loves nothing more than a challenge and Dusty is doing a damn good job of it. But when he doesn’t know I’m looking, I’ve seen the way he watches her. I think he may be a little more interested than he lets on.

After the meal, everyone helps clean up, except Lexi, and a pretty intense volleyball game is happening in the backyard. Connor and I decline to join in, wanting to play a little game of our own in private. I’m grabbing the last of the dirty paper plates from the table when he leans toward me and growls.

“You have two minutes to get that sexy ass of yours inside.”

“Yes sir,” I say, with a grin.

“I have to grab something. I’ll be right there.” He takes off for the garage, and I hurry inside hoping to have enough time to check myself in the mirror. I toss the plates in the trash and rush to the bathroom, running my fingers through my hair. I’ve missed feeling this giddy for someone, feeling so . . . alive. There was a time I thought maybe I’d never experience that again. After a few attempts, I’ve just perfected my sexy pose for when he enters when I hear a loud pop. It’s so loud I nearly jump out of my skin. What the hell was that?

I walk briskly out of the bathroom and when I reach the back porch I see the backyard is empty. Where did everyone go? My heart starts pounding when I hear someone yelling, but I can’t make out who it is or what they are saying. But whoever they are, or whatever they’re saying, they sound distressed. I rush down the steps, the screen door smacking closed behind me and round the corner of my house, stopping dead in my tracks. Connor’s about twenty feet away, his back is to me, and he’s standing right in front of Mrs. Jenson.

Mrs. Jenson is here.

And she’s holding a gun aimed at Connor.

My heart is in my throat as dread and fear choke me. Please don’t shoot him, is all I can think, Please, God, please don’t let her hurt him.

“We would have been married forty-one years today,” she says through gritted teeth. Then her gaze moves to me. “You!” she shouts as she whips the gun at me. Connor immediately moves to stand in front of me as Mrs. Jenson stares at me, wide-eyed with rage, her frail arm shaking from the weight of the gun.