Breaking Away (32 page)

“I need to focus on Alex right now. Maybe when he’s older and doing more, I’ll think about going back to school or work. Right now, he needs me.”

“I know.” He swallowed. Sharing his feelings didn’t come naturally. In all his SEAL training he’d never received one instruction on how to say mushy stuff and have it come out sounding right. “I need you, too, Marsha.”

He knew she was crying when he felt her tears wet his chest.

“I know I was a shit when Alex was first born, but I’m trying to make up for that now. If you’ll just tell me how.”

She covered his lips with her fingers. “You’re doing just fine.”

At least she was finally letting him hold her. But it hurt like hell to witness her struggling so. If he wasn’t such a badass Navy SEAL, he’d do some bawling himself.

Alex’s cry came over the baby monitor a few minutes later. It seemed the entire family was venting their unhappiness tonight.

While Marsha slipped away to check on the baby, taking the monitor with her, James gathered the remaining debris from their meal and returned the wine, glasses, CD player and CDs to the house.

Marsha came into the kitchen to fix Alex a bottle while he was washing the crystal wine glasses. “Is he okay?” he asked.

“Yes, just wants a bottle.”

“After I’m through here, I’m going to set the alarm,” he warned.

“Okay.”

She looked washed out, as though those few moments of heart-to-heart discussion had drained her. She’d grown thinner, her face bordering on gaunt. She was a shadow of herself. But what could he do to help her?

They had both been prescribed anti-depressants and therapy after the attack. He hadn’t taken the pills, but he’d gone to the sessions alone and with her. If he’d taken the meds, would she have taken hers? Had he made her feel he’d think her weak if she did?

He checked the doors and windows and set the alarm. Pausing outside the nursery on his way to their bedroom he watched Marsha as she gently propelled the rocker back and forth while she cuddled Alex close and fed him the bottle. The baby’s fingers caught in her hair and she pulled it free and flipped it over her shoulder. She had always highlighted her blonde hair with pale streaks to give it more color. It had been months since she’d been to the beauty parlor and had it done. It had been months since she’d done anything but see to his and the baby’s needs.

He wandered into the bedroom, his thoughts on her. He picked up his cell phone, then checked the time. It was just ten. Surely not too late to call. He keyed down until he found the number.

A woman’s voice came across the line.

“Hello, Trish. This is Captain Jackson. I was wondering if you’d have some time tomorrow to meet with me?”

A hollow silence met his words. “This isn’t about Langley, is it?” she asked, a husky tone in her voice.

Realizing he may have scared her, calling out of the blue, he rushed to set her mind at ease. “No. Lang and the other team members are fine. It’s about Marsha. I want your advice about something. And I know most of the ladies in the team look to you as the go-to person about family issues and just about everything else.”

“Oh…” She drew a deep breath. “Sure, Captain.”

“What time would be convenient, and where would you like to meet?”

“I can come to the base tomorrow around lunch time, say eleven thirty.”

“Thanks, that would be good. I’ll arrange my schedule and leave word at the gate about your appointment. I’ll provide lunch. Would that be okay?”

“Sure,” Trish said. A child’s voice sounded in the background.

He rushed to end the conversation. “Sorry to have interrupted your evening. I didn’t mean to wake the kids. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, sir.”

James stripped, put on his pajama pants and t-shirt, and jerked down the covers. He stretched out on the bed and held the television control in his hand but didn’t bother to turn it on.

He’d never been a particularly romantic guy. He felt clumsy and inept when trying to plan something he thought Marsha would like. But if it was going to help get their marriage back on track and maybe make Marsha feel better about him and herself, he’d do it.

He loved his wife. And he was going to do whatever it took to make sure she knew it.

Marsha wandered in a few minutes later and disappeared into the bathroom with her gown. When she came out, she’d changed into the homely night apparel. Her face was shiny with lotion and the faint smell of toothpaste came with her.

“Are you going to watch television?” she asked.

“No. I’m beat.” James laid the remote on the nightstand.

“I am too.” She crawled into her side of the bed. “I never realized how exhausting having another human being depend on you twenty-four/seven can be. But every time he smiles at me it’s worth it.”

“He does have an incredible smile. A bit gummy, but still terrific.”

She smiled, the expression more natural than he’d seen in months. “He’s working on a couple more teeth. He’s chewing everything I give him.”

This stress-free talk of Alex relaxed him and seemed to relax her too. She reached for the light on her side of the bed and he did the same.

When she turned away from him, he suppressed a sigh and turned on his side away from her. It was just going to take time. He had to just recognize that, accept it. But they had been so close before, or at least he’d thought they were. He had his work, she had hers. He had his men, she had a group of friends from work and the other wives she’d spent time with.

He’d noticed that she and her mom weren’t talking much these days. That had stopped shortly after Alex’s birth. Depression, withdrawal from others, fear, flashbacks, all the symptoms that encompassed PTSD. They were going to therapy. What else could he do but encourage her to take her pills?

The mattress compressed behind him and Marsh slipped an arm around his waist. He placed a hand over hers and held it against him.

“I just need to hold onto you for a moment.”

His throat tightened with emotion. “As long as you need, honey.”

CHAPTER 25

W
ill paced the ten feet of open floor space in front of his desk. Where the hell was Zusak? He’d used the private detective numerous times before and he’d
never
been late for an appointment. He was an obsequious little prick, but thorough, and Will needed someone who could find out about that asshole, Tim Carnes.

The cops had dropped by to see Will about Sam’s car earlier. They knew he’d done it, Will knew he’d done it. But they didn’t have enough evidence to arrest him. Their attitudes had been very clear, however. They were tired of dealing with his shit and would be on the lookout for his car anywhere in the vicinity of Sam’s house.

He’d have to lay low for a while. Make everyone think he was walking the straight and narrow.

He wanted to kill that son of a bitch, Carnes. Because he’d touched his wife, but even more because he was in her good graces all cuddled up to her while Will couldn’t even call her on the fucking telephone.

He wanted to kill Sam, too. It had only been eight months since they’d separated. Most widows waited a freakin’ year before taking up with the next guy.

His lawyer had notified him about Joy’s emergency room visit and the role the neighbor had played in saving her.
Great!
The fucker had swooped in like Superman and saved his daughter’s life.

Now Sam would feel like she owed him or, even worse, see him as some kind of hero. Damn it.

He thrust his fingers through his hair and pulled. Frustration vied with anger, making his head feel like it might explode. He should never have scratched the word into Sam’s car. But he got so angry when he thought of her living without him. She shouldn’t want to live without him. He should be everything to her, like she was to him.

And now that asshole was right there, Johnny on the spot, ready to leap to the rescue if Will even came near the place.
Damn it!
Heat flared in his face. It was all Carnes’s fault.

He stomped behind the large oak desk and threw himself into the over-stuffed office chair. As his weight hit it, the seat puffed air in protest.

Where the hell was Zusak?

A knock sounded. He lunged to his feet, strode to the door, and jerked it open. “Where the hell—” he cut off the words as his father brushed past him into the room.

“The police came to see me,” Chaney announced without waiting for him to close the door.

“So?” Will looked down the hall to see who might be standing outside the office. Luckily, no one. He slammed the door.

“For someone so smart, you’re a fucking idiot. When are you going to give it up?”

Was it his imagination, or was his father beginning to age a little? The silver at his temples had begun to thread its way through the rest of his thick hair and lines of tension carved deep trenches between his nose and mouth. His tan seemed to be a shade or two lighter than usual as well.

“What are you talking about?” Will asked. “I didn’t do anything.”

“If you didn’t do it, you hired someone to do it. It has your MO written all over it.”

“MO? Since when did you suddenly become a police detective?”

“Stop playing dumb. I know it was you who slashed Sam’s tires and carved ‘whore’ into the side of her car. What is it about that bitch that makes you incapable of leaving her alone?” The impatience in Chaney’s voice lay so thick it had a texture.

“She’s my wife.”

“
Ex-wife. Ex.”
His father stuck his face close to his. “Do you really think you’re going to get her back doing crazy shit like this?
Leave her the fuck alone.”

At hearing words nearly identical to what Tim Carnes had said fall from his father’s mouth, rage ripped through Will like a blowtorch. “Get out of my face.” He suppressed the urge to shove his father across the room by a fingernail-thin margin of control.

“I mean it, Will. The next time the cops show up at my door, I’m cutting you off. No more job, no more money, no more anything.
Am I clear?”

No, he wasn’t.
“You’re not going to do anything.” Will crowded him and Chaney took a step back. He could read the wariness in his father’s face. There was some satisfaction in making the man who’d run his life for so long fear him. “You forget,
Dad,
I know all about this business and how you’ve conducted it. I know about every bribe and payoff you’ve made. You cut me off, I’ll start making phone calls.”

Chaney reared back and raised a hand to strike Will. His arm shook as he fought for control, balled his fist instead, and dropped it to his side. “You ungrateful piss ant. Your mother and I have given you everything, and you dare to threaten
me
?” He narrowed his eyes and his jaw bulged as he ground his teeth. “You’ve already cost us our granddaughter. You won’t cost us anything else. I’ll pick up the phone and make a few calls myself, and you’ll find yourself back in jail so fast it’ll make your head spin.”

Had he gone too far? He needed the money to keep rolling in for his plan to work. Will threw out the one thing he knew would make his dad back off. “Not if you want to get custody of Joy, you won’t.”

“What are you talking about? They’re not going to give you or even us custody. Not since Moreland ran his mouth. They know your mother and I turned a blind eye to your obsessive behavior, and your violence toward Sam. They won’t give us Joy.”

“They will if Sam isn’t able to keep a roof over her head and provide for her. I have a plan.”

Chaney shook his head. “Why do you hate this woman so much? Why do you keep going after her?”

“I don’t hate her, I love her. And I’m going to get her back, no matter what I have to do to accomplish it. If I have custody of Joy, I’ll have Sam. They’re a package deal. Because the two things Sam loves the most are Joy and that fucking house she lives in. I’ll get them both, and I’ll get
her
.” He grinned. “In fact, I’ve already put something in motion that almost guarantees I’ll get the house, and I’m halfway there.”

Chaney stared at him, his face stiff with control. “I’m done, Will. If you get into trouble, don’t call me to come bail you out. I won’t do it. Leave your mother and me out of this. Besides, they pick you up for stalking her or defying the restraining order she has against you, you’ll go away for a lot longer than seven months. Get on with your life. Find someone else.”