Never Let You Go

“I’m just not in the mood for a bath.”


“Okay.” He gives me a quizzical look. My tone was too short, my voice tight.

“I’ll come and sit with you. Let me just freshen my coffee.”

The sound of running water floats down the hall. I think of the bathtub upstairs. Did Elizabeth sit with him? Does he still bathe in there sometimes and think of her? I wonder if he’s ever actually rented this house out or if that’s just another lie. I fill my coffee cup.

When I enter the bathroom he’s already got the tub half full, bubbles covering his body up to his hard stomach. His feet are braced against the spout, and he uses one to tighten the tap.

“Sure you won’t join me?”

I shake my head and perch on the side of the tub. He lifts a wet hand, trails a finger down my arm, following a bead of water. I want to scratch at it. Maybe I should just leave now, when he’s in the bath. I might get a few miles down the road before he catches on, but he’s fast—I’ve seen him on the treadmill. If he chases me down, I won’t be able to intercept Sophie.

“I was thinking I might want to cook something different tonight,” I say. “When Sophie comes back, mind if I run to the grocery store and pick up a few things?”

“Want me to come with you?”

“No, that’s okay.” I can’t meet his eyes, so I stare down at my coffee, rubbing at an imaginary spot on the handle with my thumb.

I hear a noise, the front door opening, then Angus barking excitedly. I don’t look at Marcus. I just I rush out of the bathroom—and stop when I see Jared with Sophie in the kitchen. He’s kneeling down and petting Angus. Jared looks up at me, gives a friendly smile. I can’t stop staring at him. I feel as though I’ve slammed into a wall, my thoughts scattered. Jared can’t be here. Now he’s in danger too. I have to get them out of here. Noise in the bathroom. Marcus is draining the tub. I only have moments. His keys, Sophie must still have his keys.

I meet Sophie’s eyes, trying to figure out how I can signal that we have to leave without alarming her and setting off panic. “Sophie, we need to get to town. We—”

“Mom, I crashed the Cherokee.”

“You what?” She’s pale, I realize now, her hair messy, and her arms wrapped around her body as though she’s freezing cold. I hadn’t noticed. I’d been too scared. I walk closer. “Are you injured?” I search her face, notice a red mark by her temple. I graze my fingers across the spot.

“I’m okay,” she says. “But the Cherokee is wrecked.” Her voice is quavering and I can tell she’s trying not to break down in front of Jared. “There was a tree and I tried to stop, but the Cherokee slid everywhere, and I went off the road.” Marcus comes up beside me with a robe wrapped around him and she looks at him, her face pleading. “I’m really sorry.”

His face is calm as he looks at her, almost reassuring. If this was yesterday, I would’ve been grateful for how he was always so thoughtful about everything, how he’d take a beat or two before responding—he was so centered. So in control. He’d never lose his temper like Andrew. Now I see something else. I see anger. I’d never noticed before, how his eyes could go so flat and cold. I hadn’t seen it for what it really was, deep-seated hatred and rage.

“I’m just glad you’re all right, Sophie,” he says. “I’ll get you some ice.” He heads over to the fridge, says casually over his shoulder, “Have you called the police?”

I feel a tiny leap of hope. The police. If they come to take an accident report, I might be able to signal that we need help. I look at Sophie. Say yes. Please say you’ve called them.

“No.” Her face flushes. “It was my fault. I glanced at my phone.…”

She’s watching me. She’s expecting me to be angry, to lecture her about driving while distracted, but it’s as though the roof has collapsed onto my head and I’m still trying to dig out from the rubble. Marcus is listening. I have to say something.

“Sophie!” I finally manage. “What were you thinking? You could have been really hurt.”

“I’m sorry, Mom.” She looks so ashamed, and I want to hug her and reassure her, but I can’t think past the next few minutes and how I’m going to keep myself together.

“We’ll talk about this later.”

“We’ll have to call a tow truck when the phone lines are fixed,” Marcus says. “And I’ll have to contact my insurance company and make a report, but we should be able to keep the police out of it.” His voice is still smooth, assured. He’s so confident. Why wouldn’t he be? He’s played the game for months.

“You need to get checked at the hospital, Sophie,” I say. “You could have tissue damage or torn ligaments.” While Marcus is distracted by taking care of the Cherokee, I’ll get Sophie and Jared out of here and call Corporal Parker as soon as I have cell service.

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