Behind the Lies (A Montgomery Justice Novel) (11 page)

Jenna didn’t want to lean on Zach Montgomery. She didn’t want to rely on anyone. Not again. She had to find the scrappy kid she’d hidden away when Brad had found her. The girl who could pick a pocket without her target having a clue; the girl who could hot-wire a car in thirty seconds, not the minute it had taken her to start Zach’s truck; the girl who’d survived on her own for two years, carelessly overseen by an uncle whose best friends were paid to break kneecaps. Until he’d vanished, leaving her homeless and hungry.

She clutched at the hood of the Range Rover to steady herself. As much as she wanted to walk away, she couldn’t take care of Sam. Not like this.

And her son clearly idolized the man. She prayed Zach wouldn’t disillusion her son. He didn’t need any more disappointments.

Zach’s strong hands settled on her waist. He helped Jenna into the vehicle, his touch lingering on her back. She shivered. Try as she might to not be impacted by him, he was more handsome in person than on the big screen. His pecan-colored hair, highlighted with strands of ginger, glimmered in the billowing light of dusk.

He’d been younger when he’d played the Dark Avenger, but she’d fallen for that mischievous glint in his eyes that made the superhero oh-so-sexy.

She didn’t admit it to Sam, but she’d relished watching the movie as much as he did. She’d thought him harmless eye candy. Had believed she’d married her very own superhero. Not the supervillain.

As with every time she remembered all of Brad’s lies, nausea rose deep within her. If her husband had risked searching the
neighborhood, he was desperate. Just because they were sixteen hours away from La Jolla didn’t mean they were safe. Ever since she’d approached the FBI, they’d drilled Brad’s skills into her. According to law enforcement, her husband had avoided detection by both American and international police for over a decade. That meant he not only knew how to fly under the radar, he also knew how to manipulate systems.

He didn’t just have money. He had powerful connections.

She sent a sidelong glance to the man who hadn’t hesitated to help. He had money, but he was still just an actor. She couldn’t let herself mix up the hero he played on screen and the real man. Even if he’d saved her life.

Still, something didn’t quite fit. Those instincts from her childhood had started pinging. With everything in the press, she’d thought Zach Montgomery was a soft playboy who looked good. Now, studying the hard line of his jaw and his intelligent gaze, she recognized she’d made too many assumptions. The story of her life.

She let out a small sigh.

“Are you ready to talk yet?” he said, his deep voice smooth as milk chocolate.

She glanced at Sam, who stared eagerly at the back of his hero’s head. How had her life gotten so complicated?

“Why steal my truck?” he persisted.

“I would have left it for you somewhere,” she said. “I’m no thief.”

“I have a perfectly good vehicle in pieces at the base of a thousand-foot cliff that says differently.”

“I’ll pay you back.”

“I’ll take a check.”

She blanched. “Someday.”

“You’re running,” he said.

She looked at Sam. “Later,” she pleaded.

“Fine,” Zach said. “Once you’re safely at the cabin.”

Jenna placed her hand on her temple. “We’ll never be safe,” she muttered.

In another half hour, Zach pulled into the front of the house. He opened the car’s back door for Sam then walked around the vehicle to help Jenna out. He stuffed the car keys in his pocket. “I’m going to trust we don’t have a repeat. I really like the Range Rover.”

She flushed and slid to the ground. Zach swept her into his arms.

“What are you doing?”

“Keeping you from falling on your face,” he said.

He marched up the steps, Sam trailing behind like an eager puppy, awestruck by every gesture, every word, every movement Zach made. Too much like Sam’s reaction to Brad at one time. Jenna’s gut lurched with concern. Sam had idolized his father…when Brad was home.

Until the last few months, Jenna had been able to protect Sam from seeing the darker side of her husband.
She
hadn’t seen the darker side until the last eighteen months.

She’d thought he’d been having an affair.

She couldn’t have been more wrong.

Her son didn’t know it yet, but he’d lost his father today.

She’d lost her Prince Charming the moment he’d hit her for the first time. She’d taken a bite of the apple the moment she’d discovered she’d married a killer.

Zach jostled her a bit and she wrapped her arms around his neck. Brad had never carried her this way…not since he’d carted
her over the threshold. It was part of the honeymoon—part of an act, she recognized now. After one night and day of bliss, he’d received a phone call and left for a job. She’d been disappointed, but proud. He was her provider.

What a fool she’d been to believe in him.

Zach cradled her securely as he walked through the living room and down a hallway. The walls were made out of logs, and the large stone fireplace took up an entire wall. If you dreamed of mountain cabins, this would be the one.

He pushed open the door to a large bedroom and gently laid her on the quilt. “You’re staying in here tonight.”

Sam skipped behind her holding a football in his hand. “Look, Mommy. Can I play ball with the Dark Avenger?”

Zach winced at the name but didn’t correct Sam. The kindness warmed Jenna from the inside. Clearly the role that had made Zach famous also made him uncomfortable, and yet no matter what Sam said or did, Zach was nothing but patient.

“Tell you what, buddy,” Zach said. “How about I put on a movie for you?”

“
The Dark Avenger
?” Sam’s eyes were wide.

“I think I can arrange something,” Zach muttered.

He left the room and within a few minutes Jenna heard the TV blaring from down the hall.

She tilted her head, testing the pain. Pressing her hand against her temple, she sighed, resigned to spending the night with the Dark Avenger. She found it easier to think of him as a movie star. She had enjoyed him holding her way too much, and his profession made him untouchable.

“How many times has he seen it?” Zach asked from the doorway before returning to her bedside.

Jenna shoved her musings away and shifted in the bed. Her heart sped up as his large frame filled the room. Why did the room seem so much smaller, the oxygen so much thinner?

“I stopped counting at twenty,” she choked, cursing her nervousness. “And that was the first week we bought it.”

With a grimace Zach sat in the rocking chair by the bed. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s a good movie. You were good in it.”

“Good special effects. I had nothing to do with that.” Zach propped his boot across his knee.

“You’re wrong. It’s not the explosions that make the movie special. It’s you, Zach.
You
gave the Dark Avenger soul.
You
make the audience understand honor and justice. That’s why I let Sam watch it so many times. He needed a real hero. Especially recently.”

Zach started to protest, and Jenna clutched at the quilt. “Please. Let me get this out. I need to thank you. You could have turned me in to the police. You’ve been very kind…to me and to Sam.”

“You did a hell of a quick job hot-wiring the truck,” he said. “Besides, natural curiosity dictates I have to find out how you gained such an…unusual skill.”

“I’m not as good as I used to be.” Jenna smiled for the first time since she could remember.

He quirked a brow. “And that’s not a statement I’d expect from a woman in our neighborhood.”

Jenna looked away from his speculative glance. How could she explain where she’d come from? How her life with her father had been so wonderful, only to have it ripped away—the same thing she was doing to Sam now. This time, though, she’d make sure Sam had a foundation of security to hold on to.

Zach leaned forward in the chair. “Look, I have to know what’s going on. Your husband stopped me as we were leaving. You may have heard him. He told me you have…challenges.” Zach’s jaw tightened. “Sam told me he gets angry. What’s the truth, Jenna?”

Jenna bowed her head. “Brad yells. He…loses his temper sometimes.”

“Did you ever call the police?”

Shamed, Jenna toyed with the quilt’s stitches. “He always apologized. He hasn’t always been this way. I hoped he’d turn back into the man I married.” She let out a sharp laugh. “I had no idea who I’d married. That’s the scary part.”

Zach rose and sat on the bed next to her. He covered her hand with his. “You’re obviously terrified. I could take you to the police station now.”

“I can’t. I’d be dead before they could help me.” She scooted away from him and rubbed her chilled arms with her hands.

He moved in closer, his face just inches from hers. He tilted her chin up, his gaze holding her captive. “What are you leaving out, Jenna? Convince me not to get the cops involved for your own good.”

She let out a slow sigh. “My husband is more than a computer salesman. He’s an assassin.”

Anna Montgomery sat on the sofa in her house checking the clock once again. She twisted the pearls around her neck and stared up at her husband’s picture, right next to his favorite piece of art—nothing fancy, nothing special, just the one she’d sketched of their
cabin in the mountains near Kremmling. Where they’d made love on their anniversary. Where Zach had been conceived.

Five years Patrick had been gone. Five long, lonely years since she’d felt her heart beating.

The doorbell rang. Her pulse skipped and she rose, smoothing her skirt as she walked to the door.

She stared through the peephole.

It was him.

“You can do this, Anna. Just because you’re a grandmother doesn’t mean you’re dead.”

She opened the door.

John Garrison stepped inside. Her son Gabe’s former captain smiled, the crow’s-feet crinkling, his hazel eyes warming at the sight of her.

“Anna,” he whispered softly.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d come,” she said. A tingling sensation prickled at her temple. The warning sense she’d always heeded. Zach had called it her
spidey sense
during his superhero phase. She’d known exactly when her kids were in trouble—or lying. She stared up at John. Maybe her intuition was warning her she wasn’t ready to take this step.

“I’ve been hoping for this invitation since that barbecue three years ago,” he said.

Her cheeks grew warm. He made her heart and belly flutter like a schoolgirl. She hadn’t felt this way since…Patrick.

John strode into the living room. She closed the door. She could do this. She’d been working up the courage since that same barbecue, when he’d brushed his hand with hers and a spark of something had flared deep inside. He’d fanned the flames, slowly, gently, taking special care. Sharing a meal at a family picnic, a waltz at
Luke and Jasmine’s wedding. Then just nine months ago at the hospital while Gabe was recovering, something had shifted in Anna; the spark no longer flickered, it began to glow. She recognized the truth. John was always there. She wanted him there. Still, it had taken months to call. Peeking after him, she watched Patrick’s oldest friend move about the room. He stopped at a photograph.

He picked up her wedding photo. “I remember this day. You were a beautiful bride.”

“Thank you.” Anna swallowed. “I better check the roast.”

She hightailed it into the kitchen and leaned over the stove. She couldn’t do this. It was too soon. How would she explain to her boys, especially Zach? They’d all adored their dad, but Patrick’s death had stolen a piece of Zach’s soul. Would he think she’d betrayed Patrick’s memory?

A pair of warm hands touched her shoulders.

John turned her toward him.

Her breath caught as she met his gaze. This had been coming for a long time. She knew it. So did John.

He traced the curve of her cheek with his hand. “You’re nervous.”

The low timbre of his voice made her body tremble in a way it hadn’t in such a long time.

She tried to bow her head and look away, but John tilted her chin up. “We don’t have to do this. We can keep things the way they’ve always been. Old friends. Good friends.”

“Is that what you want?”

“You know it’s not.” His voice dropped to a husky whisper. He pressed his body against hers. Though she knew she still had ample time to escape, she didn’t want to. In her heart she knew Patrick wouldn’t have wanted her to give up her life.

“I’m afraid,” she whispered.

“Anna Montgomery. The Irish terror of Arvada, Colorado?” he teased. “The woman who raised six sons and never blinked an eye at Gabe and Luke’s crazy antics. Not to mention Zach’s frequent stays in the Jefferson County jail.”

She smiled up at him. “You know them well.”

“Patrick shared more than one story.”

She sighed.

“It’s Patrick, isn’t it? You still love him.” John’s face closed off, and he looked as if he were waiting for a blow.

Anna gently eased from his arms and went to the sink, staring through the kitchen window into the night. “I’ll always love him.”

John grabbed her hand and pressed his lips against her palm. She shivered at the pressure of his soft touch against her skin.