The Inn - James Patterson Page 0,51
Angeles at night, see each other in little hole-in-the-wall bars.”
What she was describing sounded like a spy movie, and she knew it. She laughed.
“We got married too fast. Things changed. He was impossible to live with. Sarcasm became insults, which became shoving, then grabbing. Then he started talking about what he’d do if I ever left him. I got worried. I looked up a couple of his old girlfriends. He’d thrown one of them down the stairs and broken her hip, then later threatened to kill her if she said anything about it to the Bureau agents who did his background check. Another was so scared of him that she moved to Australia and changed her name.”
“Jesus,” I said.
“You’d think it would have made me more cautious.” Susan looked at me. Her eyes were big and full of truth. “But it didn’t. I don’t look people up anymore. I’m afraid of what I’ll find. Once I discovered who he really was, I knew I had to leave.”
“He still works there,” I said.
“He does,” she said. “He’s high profile. So was I. What I did, by leaving—it humiliated him. We had the perfect wedding. There were many important people there, people with power and influence, and I left him to explain where I’d gone. I just cut ties. So I try to avoid dealing with the Bureau as much as I can. I lost a job I loved and a lot of people who cared about me. But I’m … you know. I’m happy here.” She straightened and shook herself in a way that made me think she was lying. Trying to wear the truth of her words.
“Are you just starting again here at the house?” I asked. “Or are you actually in hiding from this guy?”
She chewed her lip, looked as though she wanted to tell me something else. Then she said, “I don’t want to talk about it.” She waved me off.
“If this guy has hurt you or if he’s going to try to hurt you—”
“Then I’ll deal with it myself,” she said. “Like I did the first time.”
“You …” I nodded. “Of course you will.”
“You’ve got the white-knight mentality about you.” She smiled. “Boston cop for a couple of decades. How could you not, right?”
I drew a long breath. “It’s more than that. I know I’m too protective of women. It’s old-fashioned, and I’ve taken it too far in the past.”
“How?”
“Oh.” I shrugged. “It’s a long story.”
“Well, don’t let it get you into trouble with me,” she said. “I can handle myself, and I can handle my business. And so can Effie.”
“Is she connected to your ex?”
“No,” Susan said. “She was a case of mine, sort of. She needed to get away, and so did I, so it made sense to go together. But I’m speaking out of turn now. I shouldn’t have brought it up.” She turned away and started to head back toward the house. But I took a deep breath, put an arm around her waist, and drew her to me.
“Whoa!” she cried.
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
“WHOA!” I RESPONDED, my face flushing. I let her go and she stumbled a little on the rocks, put her hand to her lips. We both laughed awkwardly, our faces burning.
“Were you going to kiss me?” Her eyes were wide, full of hilarity.
“Well, I just … ” I cleared my throat, looked down at my feet, then up at the sky. “Oh Jesus. I just thought you might … I, uh, well, the moon and the water and … ” I gestured. “You know?”
“No.” She laughed. “I mean, yes, I get it! It—it was perfect. I just wasn’t ready for it.” She slapped a hand over her eyes. “I was actually hoping that you would, but I didn’t think you were going to, and then you just did, and—”
“You were hoping I would?”
“Yes!”
“Oh no.” I covered my face. “Now I’ve ruined it.”
“No, I was definitely the one who ruined it.”
We both put our hands in our pockets and looked at the stones beneath us. I thought it was over, and then she grabbed a handful of my shirt and dragged me to her. As soon as her lips were against mine, I was sealed in a moment so perfect, so long desired that I felt like crying. I held her against my chest, and she looped her arms around my neck, and all that I had lost and all the fear and fury at the threat of losing more dissolved.
We pressed our