Silent Run(102)

“Like a big Russian guy knocked me out with the butt of his gun,” Teresa said dryly.

Sarah smiled. Teresa was a tough-talking, no-nonsense brunette who made up for her lack of height with a generous amount of bravado. She’d missed talking to Teresa—having her in her life. She should have left Chicago when Teresa wanted to go, but instead she’d chosen Victor—another bad mistake. She’d certainly made a lot of them.

“How are you?” Teresa asked.

“Not bad.”

“Did you make things right with Jake?”

“I’m not sure I can.”

“But you want to.”

“I really do.” She shook her head. “I don’t know that he can forgive me for what I did.”

“He sure as hell should forgive you. You were running for your life.”

“With his child under my arm. He doesn’t see it in quite the same light as me, and I can’t blame him. I did put Caitlyn in danger. I can’t deny that.”

“She would have been in danger if you’d left her with Jake,” Teresa said firmly. “Victor is the one to blame, not you. You did what you had to do.”

“Okay, my turn,” Catherine interrupted. “I want to know why you never got in touch with me, Jessica. I looked for you in Chicago. I stayed there for two weeks, searching the streets, talking to your friends.”

“I sent you a note as soon as I could,” Sarah said, knowing that what she’d done wasn’t nearly enough. But at that point she truly had been running for her life.

“A cryptic note that you could have been forced to write at gunpoint.”

“I was afraid to make contact with you again. And for a while I couldn’t physically do it even if I wanted to. I was in Witness Protection. Then Victor sent Shane to kill me in the safe house. If he’d found me there, he could find me anywhere. I had to run. I had to stay in the shadows. I was afraid one wrong move would bring him straight to me, or to someone else I cared about.”

“You told Andy. What did you think—that his comic-book superhero could protect you?” Catherine asked.

Sarah saw the pain in Catherine’s eyes. So many of her decisions had hurt the people she loved. “I needed a new identity. Andy was the only one who could do that for me. But he died for it.”

“He died because of Victor,” Teresa put in again.

“He died because he helped me,” Sarah said, “and because Victor thought Andy knew where I was. So many people have been hurt because of me, including the guards in the safe house who were supposed to protect me. And then poor Mrs. Murphy got beaten up and Amanda got burned out of her apartment. I’m like a hurricane, bringing trouble in my wake.”

“You could have brought it my way,” Catherine repeated. “I would have helped you.”

“You finally had what you wanted, the art school scholarship, the glamorous life in New York. I didn’t want to take that away from you. After a while, when things settled down, I thought about calling you, but I figured by then the damage had been done and nothing could be gained. You had your life, and I had mine, such as it was.”

“She didn’t call me either,” Teresa interjected. “Which also pisses me off. You waited eight years to get back in touch, Jessica. Way too long.”

“You were my family. And you were safe away from me. I wanted to keep it that way.”

“But you let Jake into your life,” Catherine pointed out. “You had to know it was a risk.”

“I did know it. In the beginning I told myself it was a fling, a temporary thing, but he was too great to let go,” she said with a helpless shrug. “I was being selfish hanging on to him. When I got pregnant—oh, my God, I was terrified. It was a complete accident. I had never intended to get that involved with anyone. But I couldn’t get rid of my baby. I couldn’t walk away from Jake. That’s when I started telling myself lies—like, It’s been five years and Victor has probably forgotten about you. And my other favorite—Victor is in jail; he can’t hurt you now. I was an idiot. I never even considered that he could get out on parole after serving a third of his sentence.” She let out a sigh. “I don’t expect either of you to understand or forgive me.”

“I’m not judging you,” Catherine said. “I just wish I could have helped you, Jessica. I always thought of you like my little sister. And I never stopped worrying about you. I saw you in my dreams. For months I could hear your voice calling out to me. I could see you running down this street late at night, and all I could think about was how much you hated the dark.”