Savage Row - Britney King Page 0,54

kid has his nose pressed to the glass, his breath making fog on the glass. What the fuck?

As he raises his fist to knock again, I press the button to slide the window down. He squints into the sunlight, eventually cupping his hand over his eyes so that he can see me. Finally, he drops his hand and leans into the car. He braces himself against the door, his breath coming out in quick gasps. “I thought you were dead.”

“Theo, right?” Greg always refers to him as the neighbor boy, but this close, it’s obvious he’s a full-grown man.

“That’s right.” He extends his hand as though it’s something he’s been taught to do, not something that comes naturally.

“We’ve met before. Remember the fire? I helped your mom. I’m Amy.”

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

“You said that before.”

“You shouldn’t let him hurt you like that. Amy.” The way he says my name as a full sentence catches my attention. “What about the children?”

As he eagerly awaits my response, he glares at me through narrowed eyes. “Theo,” I say, with broad emphasis, trying his tactic on for size. “You, of all people, should know better than to believe the things you hear.”

“Didn’t hear it.” He shakes his head from side to side. “I saw it.”

“What you saw was wrong. And also none of your business.”

Greg exits the garage. Theo makes eye contact briefly. He pats my car door. “Okay. Bye.” I watch as he starts for the fence line. Over his shoulder, he mumbles something. I can’t say for sure exactly what that something is, only that it sounds an awful lot like, “The children are my business.”

Greg opens the door. I exit and walk over to the passenger side. He hops into the driver’s seat. As I buckle my seat belt, he looks over at me. “What was that all about?”

“He saw the video.”

“Where are we going?” I ask every few miles.

My husband doesn’t answer. He simply smiles and grips the wheel. He drives out of the neighborhood and past the neighboring housing developments, until we’re on an old farm road, surrounded by nothing but rolling hills. I ask again.

“I told you it’s a surprise.”

“I hate surprises,” I say as the woods grow thicker and the road grows thinner. Farmland spans for miles on all sides.

“You remember that place we took Christmas photos of the girls that time?”

I don’t really, but if I think hard enough, I vaguely recall it. That was at least four years ago. “Sure.”

He nods at the backpack he carries his laptop in. It’s on the floorboard of the backseat. “Check it out.”

“A picnic?” I ask, jokingly.

His bottom lip juts out, and then his mouth twists. “Um. Wish I’d thought of that.”

Reaching for the backpack, I pull it onto my lap. He looks over at me and smiles. “Go for it.”

As I unzip the bag, my throat hitches. “What the hell?”

Inside is the handgun I purchased. The gun I thought was stolen. Along with another pistol I’ve never seen before.

“Surprise!”

“Why didn’t you tell me? All this time you made me think someone took it. You made me think Jack Mooney took it.”

“You should have been honest up front. You weren’t.”

I shrug. “I knew you wouldn’t like it.”

“You should have come to me.”

My eyes widen. “I did.”

“Did you really think I wouldn’t protect my family?”

“No—I don’t know—I just thought—”

“I know what you thought. But it was wrong. I’m not a pussy, Amy. And I wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet in Jack Mooney.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

Our eyes meet, and he smiles. “The right time.”

He pulls onto the gravel in front of an old, dilapidated barn, turns off the car, and takes the bag from my lap. “Come on.”

“What are we doing?”

“What does it look like?” he quips, flinging his door open. “I’m going to teach you how to shoot.”

We walk for ages through tall grass, making me thankful for my choice of shoes. It’s sunny out, a little nippy but otherwise mild. Although, the sun is waning, and that will soon change. The further we walk, the more I complain. “I forgot my jacket. And what if I’d been in heels?”

“I knew you weren’t. And here,” he offers, sliding his jacket from his shoulders. “Take mine.”

When we come to a clearing, he stops and surveys the area. Satisfied, he sets the bag on the ground. “This oughta do.”

“The sun will be going down soon.”

“I know.”

“Well, since you know everything, it might be a good time to tell