Protecting Her(111)

When Jack returns with my change of clothes, he comes over and pulls me up from my chair and into his arms. “I’m sorry, Rachel. I’m sorry it’s come to this. But Pearce will come for you. I promise you he will. Just be strong, and never lose hope.”

I nod, then straighten up and wipe my tears. He leaves me alone in the room and I change into black pants, a white shirt, and a gray cardigan sweater. The clothes and the colors will make me blend in, not stand out.

I let down my hair, gather it together, take the scissors Jack left me, and cut straight across, watching my long brown hair fall to the ground. I cut it to chin-length, which is the shortest I ever remember having it. I make some more cuts to even it out, then I put on the new wig. It’s light brown, much lighter than my normal color, and shoulder-length with long bangs. I put on the tortoise shell glasses and look at my reflection in the mirror Jack left in the room.

I take a deep breath as I see this strange person looking back at me. I can do this. It’s just for a little while. Just until Pearce finds me. He’ll find a way out of this. He’ll find a way to get me back and keep me safe. I know he will.

Until then, I’ll be someone else. I’m no longer Rachel Kensington. I’m Jill Smith from Maryland.

And today is the first day of my new life.





CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR


Three Months Later


PEARCE

“Dad, did you hear me?” Garret asks.

We’re eating dinner, sitting on the stools that line the kitchen island. Tonight’s dinner is chicken, roasted potatoes, and a salad. Charles made it and I’m sure the food is very good, but I really don’t know because I can’t even taste it. I eat it, but I’m not aware of how it tastes. I’m not aware of anything right now. Not even my son.

“Dad?” I hear him again.

I look up from my plate and see Charles looking at me. He glances at Garret, signaling me to respond.

I turn to Garret. “I’m sorry, Garret. What were you saying?”

“That I don’t have swim practice tomorrow. Coach is going out of town with his family.”

“Okay.” I look down at my plate again.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Garret moving the food around his plate with his fork. His head is slanted sideways and resting on his fist, his elbow propped up on the counter. It’s the classic bored kid look, but he’s not bored. He’s frustrated. With me.

Every night, we have dinner in silence. Or Garret says something, but I don’t hear what he said because I’m not listening. I know I need to pay more attention to him, and I try. I really do. But then my mind wanders to Rachel and the life we used to have, and I get lost in the memories.

These past few months, I haven’t been able to move on. I can’t get past my grief. I find it hard to get through each day. I go through the motions; taking Garret to school, going to work, then coming home and having dinner. But I’m not really aware that I’m doing those things. The days just go by, one after another, and I never feel any better.

Some nights, I don’t even show up for dinner. I work late or go in my room, but I know that’s not fair to Garret, so tonight I’m having dinner with him. But whenever we have dinner together, it’s always here at the kitchen island. I refuse to eat at the dining room table because it reminds me of Rachel. I tried sitting there once, but it was too hard. I kept imagining her there next to me, smiling and laughing as we ate our meal. She always led the conversation, asking Garret and me about our day, then telling us about hers. I loved our family dinners. I looked forward to them every night. And now? I hate dinner. If it weren’t for Garret, I’d skip it altogether. I have no appetite. No desire to eat.

“I need to get to my other job,” Charles says.

I glance up and see him wiping his hands on a dish towel. “Thank you, Charles. Dinner is delicious, as always.”

Charles makes all our meals now. I hired him soon after Rachel died. He asked if there was anything he could do to help, so I asked him to work for me. He already had a job at a restaurant, and he did small catering jobs on the side, but he agreed to my offer. He had to change his work schedule at the restaurant from days to nights, but he did it because he felt so bad for Garret and me. So now Charles is here every afternoon to make dinner, then he leaves at six to go to his other job. He also does all the grocery shopping for us, but he makes sure he’s always here when Garret gets home from school. I didn’t like the idea of Garret being alone in the house every afternoon, so it’s worked out well having Charles here. I’ve thanked him repeatedly for doing this for us and I pay him double what he’d make anywhere else.