Page 69 of Golden Touch
“I miss you. And so does Henry.”
The mention of her little boy makes my heart squeeze. If I leave Vermont, I won’t get to see him grow up. “How’s he doing?”
“Great, actually. He’s worked so hard with the speech therapist, and with the OT. I’m really proud of him.”
“Aww. That’s our boy.” I feel a rush of love for Henry. I was the first person to hold him after he was born—a preemie at four pounds, six ounces, but already a fighter. He’s five now, with some significant developmental delays.
He also has a twat for a father. Now there’s a man who knows how to do a runner.
“The thing is…” Jennie hesitates. And I know exactly what’s coming. “I told him he deserved a reward if he could do another ten sessions with the occupational therapist. And he did it without complaining.”
“What does he want?” I brace myself.
“He wants to go to Six Flags. His friends have all been.”
Ouch. “That’s a couple hundred bucks, then.” At least she didn’t say Disney World.
“Yeah,” she says quietly. “And I owe the speech therapist three hundred dollars. But I could pay you back.”
As if. “The thing is, I need to trade in my car pretty soon. Before it stops working entirely.”
“You told me that thing still had years in it! Did something happen?”
I open my mouth to answer, but then I realize I shouldn’t say. Jennie doesn’t need to hear my problems. She doesn’t need to know that the guys from the Valkyries Motorcycle Club have finally found me.
Or that trading in my car is the only way I can stay in Vermont and avoid detection.
She’ll worry.
“How much do you need?” I hear myself ask.
“Five hundred,” she says quietly. “Things have been rough.”
This is why I haven’t saved enough money to escape. This right here. Between Jennie and my brother, someone always needs the cash worse than I do.
“Okay,” I say softly. “I’ll make a deposit and mail you a check.” Most of my money is kept in cash, in case I need to run. But I’ve been mailing checks to Jennie with fudged return addresses on them. I don’t think Razor can trace me from that, even if he got his hands on Jennie’s mail.
“Thank you,” she whispers. “I wouldn’t ask…”
“I know,” I say quickly. “I know.”
She sighs. “Reading anything good? Wish we could have had our night at the bookstore.”
“Me too,” I grumble. Meeting at bookstores was my bright idea for seeing Jennie in a place where the members of the VMC would never go. “I’m reading a book on my phone. I just started, but it looks like just the right blend of smart and trashy. If it is, I’ll send you the cover.”
“Ooh! That’s just how we like ’em.”
It’s true. It’s just how I like ’em in real life, too. An image of Nash floats into my mind. I picture him pinning me against the bed… And instantly, I have a case of the warm flutters. That man is exactly the right amount of smart and trashy.
I should never have slept with him.
These are thoughts I keep to myself. And after Jennie and I hang up, I sit down and try to read. It isn’t easy, though, because the pumphouse is too quiet without Nash in it. I’ve gotten used to his presence. He’s always here, playing silly tunes and cracking jokes in the kitchen. But tonight, even the creak of the old beams makes my skin crawl.
You’re just nervous,I tell myself.This is Razor’s fault.
As the light fades in the sky, I gather my courage and stepoutside, just to make sure the new security systems are doing their jobs.
The moment I do, a bright, motion-activated light comes on. And from inside the house, I hear the ping of the security system announcing that someone has approached the pumphouse.
