“When you get done with this asshat, call. Your purse, phone, all of it, is in the back.”
I blinked for what seemed like the first time since we’d left Glenning and turned around to snatch it from the back seat.
“Not gonna ask me how I got it?”
“Does it matter?”
Beau chuckled. “Okay. Well, I took it from your car. Which is parked in the barn.” As I remembered the barns permanently half opened doors, he added, “There’s a back entrance to that old thing. Thanks for the busted nose, by the way.”
My eyes bulged at that. “That was you who grabbed me?”
His top lip curled. “Sure was.”
“I won’t apologize for the nose, then.”
Beau breathed out a laugh and then turned up the radio.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Beau said after a song had finished playing over the silence, and then barely looked before driving into the rows of colorful traffic heading into the city.
My stare remained trained on the window. “I’m sure you think you do.”
Again, he chuckled. “I like you and all. I think having you around has loosened Tom up some. But you need to realize you’re not with a rational man.”
“I know.” Boy, did I know.
He veered toward the city exit. “So why do you sound like you might cry any minute?”
“I’m fine. Just worried about Lou.”
“Uh-huh. Tom just threatened to kill you and blames you for all this, but you’re fine.”
I let my lashes flutter over fresh tears. I had to turn them off. “I will be. We just need to get her back.”
Beau sighed. “Look, you and I both know your prick of a fed won’t hurt her. It’s you that you should be worried about.”
“He won’t hurt me either.”
“Hasn’t he already?”
I shot a glare at him, and his grinning face made my hands itch to smack something.
I diverted the subject. “And what do you do for a living, Beau?”
He tsked. “What a question.” He paused before saying, “All you need to know is I do what I want.”
“Does it involve killing people?”
Cursing, then laughing, he glanced at me. “Get straight to the point, why don’t you?” At the unamused look on my face, he raked a hand through his dirty blond hair. “At times, sure.”
I already knew that, but I was too lost inside the feelings tearing at my insides to care.
Beau turned the radio down once we got closer. “So what are you going to tell him?”
“Nothing.”
He made a scoffing sound. “That’s probably not going to work. You need a plan of action. You need to give him something to get the hell out.”
He pulled over, and I unclipped my seat belt and jumped out two houses down from the one I shared with the man I thought I’d marry. “You don’t need to worry about me.”
“Okay then, lady.” Beau laughed around the words. “Send her out as soon as you can. I’ll keep circling the block until I see her.”
Milo’s truck was parked in the drive, sunshine glinting off the chrome bumper. Beau turned around and drove away.
My legs were concrete as I forced them up the drive. My hand a boulder as I pounded on the door as hard as I could, and my eyes weighed down by more tears as Lou Lou opened the door. “Jemma!”
“Hey, little Lou.” I wrapped my arms around her, inhaling her cinnamon scent, then whispered, “Beau is coming to pick you up, ’kay? Go stand at the end of the drive and wait there until you see him.”
“Okay, but we made cookies,” she said.
I looked up then, straight into the eyes of desperation.
A small grin tugged at Milo’s lips. “Hey, Jem.”
“Go,” I told Lou when I heard Beau’s truck stop a few houses down.
She waved goodbye to Milo, then raced down the grass, and I turned my attention back to Milo before he could step outside and make things worse. “What were you thinking?”
“I would never hurt a child, Jem. Come on.” He had the audacity to half roll his eyes. A pair of handcuffs were tugged from his back pocket. “But I’ll need to take you in to ask you a few questions about the well-being of Miss Lou Lou Verrone. You know, being that you’re her teacher and all.”
I hissed, “Now? You’re interested in her well-being now?”
I stepped away as he came forward, reaching for my wrist. “You know why I’m taking you in. Please, don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”
“You’re not cuffing me,” I spat. “I’ll get in the damn truck myself.”
As I walked over and opened the door, I quickly glanced down the street. Beau’s truck was nowhere to be seen, and my stomach sank as I climbed up into the cab.
“Jem.” Milo got in, and the truck grumbled to life. “Talk to me. What the fuck happened there?” His eyes looked me over.
“Do I look like I spent the past month with a killer?”
His jaw clenched, then he backed out of the drive. “I just want to make sure you’re all right.”
“No, you want to use me to get to a man who’s done nothing wrong.” It was easy to lie, I discovered, when to do the opposite could destroy your heart. Mine couldn’t handle any more damage.
“You know that’s not true.”
I said nothing as he drove through the suburban streets, then followed the main road into the city. And I resolved to do just that.
Until he started talking about us.
“You don’t even know”—he laughed out—“how fucking worried I’ve been, Jem. If something were to happen to you …”
“What?” I asked. “You’d what, Milo? Don’t you have a broken marriage to repair?”
His mouth snapped shut and remained that way until we arrived at the police station and he led me inside, straight past the desk attendant, and down a gray painted hall to an empty room.
Approaching the table, I dropped into a seat, the cool air causing the hair on my arms to stand as I watched Milo flick switches on a recording system by the wall, then leave the room.
It was surreal to see him do a job I had no idea he was even capable of.
How easy it was to forget just how hurt I’d been by his lies, when my heart now hurt worse, and for different reasons.
For a different man.
Milo returned with a small file, and I shoved down the emotion desperate to crawl out of my throat and eyes.
“Is that it?” I raised a brow.
He frowned, tugging out a chair opposite me at the table, then taking a seat. “What’s with the attitude?”
“What’s with kidnapping a kid from a birthday party just to get me to talk to you?” When he shot a worried glance at the recording device, I grinned. “Whoops. Stealing kids isn’t okay? Even for a federal agent?”
“Jemima,” he warned.
“You know, I could forgive you for upending my life and breaking my heart with your lies, but taking her?” I lowered my voice, pushing the words through clenched teeth, “That I’ll never forgive.”
I could tell when the Miles I knew became Milo, his mask slipping away. “Why do you care about her so much? Isn’t she just a student?”
“I want a lawyer,” I said.
He guffawed. “Jem, what?”
“You heard me.” I glared. “I won’t answer any questions without a lawyer present.”
“You don’t need one.”
I pretended to look interested in my unpainted nails. “I’ve decided I’d like one anyway.”
His hard stare threatened to flatten me to the seat, and I might’ve caved some months ago. But that was then. Before my world turned upside down. For the better, no matter how much my chest was on fire. “You’re serious.”
“Deadly.”
He blinked, then laughed and roughly scrubbed a hand over his stubble-coated chin. “We’re not the bad guys here.”
“We?” I asked, pretending to look around. “Funny, the only other person here who’s even remotely interested in me is you.”
“Jem, I want to make sure you’re okay.” His eyes pleaded, but his eyes were carefully trained liars too.
“And as I’ve said, I’m fine.”
“You were kidnapped by a hitman. A criminal with strong familial ties to the Sicilian mafia. Someone who enjoys killing others for a living.” He said the words slowly as though my trip away from home had cost me more than a few brain cells.
“No,” I said, then drawled back, “I spent half the summer at my boyfriend’s home. There’s a bit of a difference.”
He slouched back in his chair, spearing a hand through his hair. “Jesus, fuck. You’re joking, right?”
I just looked at him.
“Jem, no.” He leaned over the table, face paling and jaw hardening. “This is so far from okay, it’s not even funny.” Remembering we were being recorded, his voice lowered to barely a whisper, as he accused, “How fucking could you?”
“There’s nothing else you really need to know, so until I get a lawyer, I’m done talking.”
We sat in silence, well, I did, for another ten minutes. Milo shot question after question, accusing look after pleading look, but he eventually gave in and left the room.
I watched the clock, wondering how long Lou had been home. If Thomas was okay, or if, at the very least, he’d calmed down.
Milo returned when the clock struck three. “Come on.”
I stood, the chair almost falling back in my haste to get out of there. “I’m free to go?”
“No,” he said, not looking at me. “You’re in a cell tonight for impeding a federal investigation. But don’t worry, I’ll make sure you get one to yourself.”
My throat closed when he grabbed my purse from the table, but I croaked, “Gee, how chivalrous of you.”
His touch made me want to reach around and punch him, maybe knee him in the balls again. But too shocked by the unexpected, it was all I could do to breathe properly as he shut me in a tiny cage that reeked of ammonia and sweat.
The green gate rattled as he locked it, then he leaned his forearms on it. “Holler when you’re ready.” After pointing up at the small black camera in the ceiling, he walked away.
I refused to cry, but holy mother of should’ve kicked him in the balls, it was hard.
I looked over at the stained mattress that was no thicker than my thumb and sank down to the concrete floor, my head resting against the patched-up wall behind me.
With nothing else to do, and no chance of sleeping, I sat, and I waited.
He was mad, but maybe he’d come for me.
But after eating a bread roll and ignoring the sludge pile they called soup for dinner, I woke myself up from naïve dreaming yet again.
He couldn’t even if he wanted to.
That was probably also part of Milo’s plan. Though who knew what he’d be able to do if Thomas walked into the precinct. I’d bet a whole lot of nothing, or he’d already be in custody, but that small file suggested otherwise.
At the very least, he could end up where I was, and the thought of him here, pacing the cell with fury lighting his blue eyes made me smile, even as I pleaded with whoever would hear my thoughts to make sure that didn’t happen.
Footsteps clipped toward me. “Jem-Jem.”
My head rolled to face Milo as he lowered to sit on the floor. “Can I go yet?”
He shook his head and grabbed the bars. “I can’t do that. I want to, but I can’t.” He blew out a rough breath, eyes meeting mine. “Please, just … give me something. What did you see? What did he tell you? Something.”
I turned away and resumed staring at peeling paint. “What was in the envelope you had me collect from the grocer?”
“Keys to a car he wouldn’t know to follow. And directions to a hotel.”
I spoke again before he could. “You knew what happened to my mom.”
His silence was answer enough.
A few minutes ticked by before he started talking. I didn’t know if his plan was to talk until I said something I shouldn’t have, but if it was, I was ready. “I couldn’t break your heart like that, even if I was allowed to. I’m sorry.” He sighed when I said nothing. “I’ve missed you, Jem. Forget all the bullshit for a minute. You know I miss you, and that I love you. Or else, I wouldn’t still be here, trying to make sure I didn’t blow my life to hell for nothing.”
“If you’re expecting me to feel sorry for you, that won’t happen.”
He huffed. “I’m not, but I am hoping you’ll believe me when I say I just want this to be over. So we can go back to being us.”
“There’s no us to go back to.” My voice was flat, bored.
“I don’t believe you. You loved me—”
“Exactly,” I said. “Past tense. I loved you once, but that time has now passed.”
“What? This isn’t you, Jem. You can forgive me. I know you can if you—”
Fed up, I spoke over him. “I can forgive mistakes, Milo. I can forgive betrayal. Maybe even of this magnitude.” I met his gaze, and my voice softened. “But I can’t just do that. It’s not that simple. You forced me into loving you, forced me to hand over parts of myself that I’d never shared before, all the while you were feeding me scraps. Enough to gain my love and sustain it, but not enough for me to grant you forgiveness should the day come that you’d need it.” A bitter laugh left me. “Funny, how I never realized just how little you gave until I’m faced with what I might lose.”
He cleared his throat. “Lose what, Jem?”
With tears threatening, I looked away. “Do your parents even live two hours north? Where is that anyway?”
“Lambton, which is three hours north.”
“And your last name? Is it really Fletcher?”
“It’s Carlson. I’ll tell you anything you want to know. Just tell me you’re not in love with him.”
A shallow laugh was my only response. I knew enough.
He kept trying, kept apologizing, but I pretended to fall asleep, and eventually, he left me alone. In a disgusting cell, on the cold, hard ground, and with renewed vision.
Milo Carlson was a spineless, self-serving dick.