So Jared bargained with the universe. He vowed never to do it or anything like it again. And he vowed never to be so irrationally angry and jealous again.
But that kiss. He couldn’t shake it.
It wasn’t just that her father had kissed her. It was all of it together. The lecturing, the looming. The control he seemed to be exerting over every other aspect of Tabitha’s life. The curfew and the limited use of the phone.
Was the guy some kind of creep? Or was he a strict and controlling father, trying to keep a very careful eye on his beautiful daughter in a new town?
Tabitha never said much about him, never indicated that he hurt her in any way. She seemed in awe of him, as though her father was an impressive, powerful figure, like a wizard in a kid’s storybook. And she seemed a little afraid of him, a little like she’d do just about anything the man asked. Jared figured a lot of girls were like that about their dads. And the guy was a single dad, trying to raise a teenage girl. Who knew where her mother was or what role she played in Tabitha’s life?
He retraced the steps he’d taken while walking Tabitha home earlier. He wished he could go back in time to that moment, or the moments in his bedroom. How had it all gone wrong so quickly, just when everything was going well? Was it possible to feel nostalgia for something so recently in the past? The houses he walked past again really hadn’t changed. Families still gathered in front of the TV. Kids did their homework, looking forward to the day to come.
These families were safe and secure, wrapped in their cocoon of comfort and privilege.
But was Tabitha safe? Was she really?
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Jenna said good-bye to Sally at the door, hugging her friend and making her promise to drive safely even though the rain had stopped.
“It could be icy. And you’ve had a couple of glasses of wine,” Jenna said.
“Are you kidding? I have that every night.”
“I can’t afford to lose anyone else,” Jenna said.
The words just slipped out. She hadn’t meant to sound like such a sad sack, but there it was. And Sally responded with another hug and an assurance that tomorrow would be a better day. Jenna felt a little lift.
She locked the door behind Sally and checked her phone. The texts kept coming in, proof that Reena Huffman’s show reached a lot of people in Hawks Mill. She ignored them. She’d said what she’d said and done what she’d done. Tomorrow Reena would be dropping the hammer on someone else if Jenna was lucky.
But she did see the text from Jared, telling her he was on his way home.
Relief coursed through her. She turned around and unlocked the door again, offering him easy access to the house. Hurry up, she thought. Just get back here.
She started straightening up the kitchen to distract herself from waiting for Jared. She knew she had to address the girl in his room, but to be honest, she didn’t really care about that anymore. She told herself if he came home safe and sound, if he walked through the door again, she wouldn’t say much of anything about it at all. Hell, shouldn’t she be happy that he was opening himself up and spending time with a girl? At least someone in the house was getting some romantic action.
She smiled as the landline rang.
It rarely did. She certainly hadn’t given that number out to any reporters. Jenna figured it was her mother calling back, offering more advice on how a proper lady conducted herself on CNN. But when she picked it up, no one was there.
She heard the sound of breathing and a rustling on the other end, a movement of some kind.
“Hello?” she said again. “Mom?”
Then a voice came through, low and raspy. “Do you kiss your mother with that filthy mouth, bitch?”
The words hit Jenna like a slap. “Who is this?”
“Why don’t you go away, bitch? You might as well as offed her yourself—”
She slammed the phone down, her hand shaking as she lifted it from the receiver. The calls had come before, mostly in the first month after Celia disappeared. Kids and cranks, weirdos offering their own theories of where Celia was and who took her. But sometimes a man like this called, one who seemed to be calling only to inflict some kind of emotional pain, to take a dig at Jenna and probe her wounds. No wonder she thought people in town blamed her.
“Mom?”
She spun and jumped at the same time. Jared stood in the kitchen doorway, his hair and coat wet. Under the harsh kitchen lights, his cheeks glowed from the cold. “You scared me.”
“I told you I was on my way home.”
“I know. I’m glad you’re here.”
He pointed to the phone, sniffling a little. “Another crank caller?”
“Some creep. Yes. It’s no big deal.”
“I told you to get rid of the landline. You don’t need it, and you keep the number listed. Anyone can call and say whatever shit they want to you.”
“We’ve been over this,” Jenna said. She was glad—no, thrilled—he was finally home. She wanted to hug him but didn’t, knowing he would grow rigid under her touch and back away in protest. “Did you lock the door?”