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The Pieces We Keep(68)

By:Kristina McMorris


A guy in the next driveway sponged suds over his windshield. Across the street three women sat on a porch, all sunglasses and drinks, while children played tag on the lawn.

Audra had a sudden urge to alert them all, to expose Robert and Meredith for the people they truly were.

She told herself to calm down. No good would come from making a scene. She would be smart about this. She would reason it out once she’d thought everything through.

“It’s Grandpa!” Jack said.

Down the driveway came Robert Hughes. His strides were those of a seasoned commander headed into battle.

A flood of betrayal returned; it fueled Audra’s anger to a combustible level. A solitary spark and she just might explode. She needed to leave right now.

With great effort, she placed her hand on the key to restart the motor. But in a final glance over, she noticed Robert’s eyes connect with Jack. A target to be captured.

Audra’s restraint snapped in two. Again, she was on the Philly-bound plane, determined to protect her son. Primal instinct took over and sent her charging from her car to block Robert’s path.

“Audra, listen,” he said. “I know you must be upset.”

“Upset? Are you kidding me?” Her voice spiked to a boom she didn’t know she possessed. “Just because you want to destroy what’s left of my family?”

“Hang on, now. We’re not trying to destroy anything.” He showed his palms, a false show of innocence. His name, too, was on that petition.

Past his shoulder, there was movement in the window. Meredith was spying from the curtains. Bold enough to hire a lawyer but too cowardly to face the accused.

“How long have you been planning this, Meredith?” She aimed her fury toward the house. “How long?”

“That’s enough,” Robert said, low but gruff. He motioned discreetly to the car.

Jack. Jack was watching. Fear and bewilderment contorted his small features.

The heat in Audra’s veins dropped ten degrees, cooled by a shot of remorse.

What was she thinking? How could she have brought him here?

Sounds of splashes pulled her gaze. The man washing his car held the nozzle of a hose, his attention locked on the drama. Water missed its mark and streamed toward the gutter. The mothers and children had also stopped for the show.

“We just want to work out what’s best for Jack,” Robert said to her. “Please know, that’s our only intention.”

Audra didn’t reply. She couldn’t without saying something she might regret. She rounded the car in a composed manner and lowered into her seat. Her hand quaked as she drove away. She focused on the road, striving to keep Jack safe, a priority she had just trampled.

Paused at a stop sign, she dared to look over her shoulder. Jack firmly rubbed at his plane, a distant haze in his eyes.

“Jack, I am so, so sorry. I shouldn’t have lost my temper.” At the break in her voice, the rising of tears, she turned back around. Her first goal was to get them home, her second to fix this mess.

In the entry of their apartment, she apologized again. She gave him a hug, which he didn’t return—not that she blamed him. “Baby, why don’t you go run a bath? Let me know when it’s ready and I’ll put a bag over the cast. Then we’ll have some dinner. Okay?”

He nodded, shoulders toward his ears, and treaded away.

The apartment never felt so small.

Audra geared up before retrieving the phone. In the privacy of her room, she called the last person she could count on.

“Tess, it’s me.”

“Hey. I hope you’re calling to fess up. Because you are so not off the hook.”

Audra cut straight to it. “I need to know—could your husband take on a new case?”

Tess went quiet, changing gears. “I’d have to ask him. Why? Who’s it for?”

Her answer stalled, hindered by the memory of Devon’s old saying: nuttin’ but a scratch. The problem was never bad until you acknowledged it aloud. But this was more than a scratch; it was a gash through the heart by people she loved. Family she trusted.

“Audra?”

“It’s for me,” she managed to say. “I need a lawyer, in order to keep Jack.”





32


Arms pinned to her sides, Vivian shuddered from a cold rush of helplessness. The man behind her tightened his hold, one hand on her mouth, the other around her chest. Trees surrounded her like bars of a prison.

Again, he sent hushed words into her ear, but she deciphered none of them. Her internal screams wailed too loudly as she struggled to break free. Not a single soul knew where she had gone. The note from the cafe, stored in her jewelry box, would not be found in time.

The horror of it all slowed the scene to a crawl. Her thoughts stretched out, long and thin, the strands of an endless web.