Page 30 of Wicked Games

The words have barely left my mouth and he’s sleeping.

I don’t fall asleep right away, and I lie in Seth’s arms, wondering how many more times he’s going to ask me that and how many more times I’m going to say yes.

CHAPTER NINE

Seth

It’s awkward telling her goodbye. There’s no reason to, except that I know she probably has things to do and I shouldn’t keep her here. I was extremely grateful she spent the night, even when I told her she should go. After reliving the afternoon Theo was killed, I wasn’t in the mood to be around anyone, but I didn’t want to be alone, either. I suppose we’re both in that situation, and when she said she didn’t want to go home, I let her stay.

She made breakfast, eggs that didn’t taste as bad as they had the last time I ate them, toast, and coffee. We didn’t have sex last night, or this morning. Darren turned sex into a job, a chore, an obligation, and I don’t want her to think I’m using her for that. Waking up to her was perfect, just holding her as the sun came up, and right in that moment, it was enough.

“I’ll talk to you later?” I ask, brushing some of her hair behind her ear. She didn’t shower, only put on the clothes she wore last night. I liked seeing her in one of my t-shirts. That’s always given me a buzz, a woman wearing my clothes.

“Yeah, sure. I might write on the dock later this afternoon. Come out if you’re not busy.”

“Sounds good.” I kiss her cheek and she leans in, and we both stand there like we did the day we walked to the diner, reluctant to part, even knowing that at any given time we can look across our yards and see each other through the windows.

“Thanks for letting me stay,” she says, opening the patio door.

“You knew I didn’t want you to leave.”

She smiles, but it’s still not happy, a sad one that only acknowledges what I said. “Maybe. See you later.”

“Yeah.”

I watch her walk across the grass, slide the door open, and step into the house. She glances at her cell, leaves it on the island in the kitchen, and disappears from view.

I change into running clothes and run to the beach and back. It’s a quick six miles, far enough to keep me from slacking on my workouts but not so long that I regret going. There are people on the beach, little kids playing in the sand, though at this time of year the water’s still freezing. Avery mentioned spending the day there. Maybe we can go later this week.

I shower and drink a glass of water, and standing in my kitchen wearing clean clothes, I feel clearer in my head than I have in a long time. It helps that I’ve been able to get some sleep, both taking that nap at Avery’s and last night. There was something comforting about feeling the weight of her body next to mine, and if I drifted awake it only lasted a second before I was sleeping again. Sleeping alone after being married to Brooke was another change I hadn’t anticipated, though mine probably wasn’t as welcome as Avery’s. No doubt toward the end she dreaded going to bed, always thinking Darren would want to use her. Broken baby machine.

I wince. I know she’s more, and he knew it too. He let his wants get ahead of what he already had, and now he’s paying. I have no doubt in my mind he regrets leaving her.

Sitting on the couch, I work a little, touching base with a couple of clients and checking email. A few people have seen I surfaced and my inbox is fuller than it was yesterday. I answer the important ones, tell Violet using our work chat that I’m doing okay, and schedule a conference call. I’m not ready to jump in quite yet, but I feel guilty that she’s been carrying me for the past four months. She understands and tells me that often, but it feels good to be working again and I tell her to go home early and take Walker out for dinner. She only sends me a smiley face in reply, and when I go back to the office full-time, I’ll insist she go on vacation. I owe her a lot and intend to repay her.

I pick up my phone and bring up Brooke’s number. We didn’t talk before we divorced, not about why she was leaving me. I always just assumed she had to get away because of what happened to Theo, but the conversations I’ve had with Violet and Avery have made me reconsider. Before Brooke and I were married, my attorney warned me I should have a prenup, and thankfully, the divorce went smoothly. We had settled on a set amount and a percentage of the income I would earn during our marriage. She was set to walk away with a lot of money, but at the last minute she asked for a huge piece of property that I bought on a whim in southern Minnesota. I don’t know why she wanted it. It’s full of lakes and streams and woods, and I’d bought it with the intention of just letting it sit. I didn’t even know she knew I bought it, but her attorney threw it in, and because I was in shock and had no plans for it, I agreed.

I connect to her number and listen to it ring. I’d like to think we aren’t enemies. I don’t hate her for leaving me, not like Avery hates Darren. That’s understandable, and I don’t blame her, but I’m too tired to hate someone, especially someone I used to love.

Her line clicks to voicemail and I hang up. I don’t want to leave a message. If she calls me back, I can ask her about Violet, but if she doesn’t, I won’t call her again. I’m not going to harass her. It would just be nice to know, but I might have to accept the fact that I never will.

Talking about the day Theo was kidnapped made me think of Marcy, and I call her too, to see how she’s doing. I’ve spoken to her once since Theo was kidnapped, but I’ve been too busy mourning my son to think about staying in touch. I don’t know if she’s moved on, if she’s still a nanny.

Ballistics was able to link the bullet that killed Theo to a gun owned by Titus Jenkins, a notorious gang leader. LaSalle questioned Marcy and dug into her background, hoping to connect her to him, but nothing came of it. Even now, I scoff, thinking about the wasted time. Marcy comes from a middle-class family, went to school for elementary education, and is in her mid-forties. Anyone would think her being connected to a gang was ridiculous. I never blamed her and made sure she knew that. I’ve only blamed myself.

“Hello?” she asks timidly when she answers the phone. Maybe she took my name out of her contacts.

“Marcy, it’s me, Seth. I’m calling to see how you are.”

She pauses, and her breath trembles over the line.

“I’m— I’m doing okay,” she says, but unfortunately it sounds like she’s doing anything but okay.

I pretend to believe her. “I’m glad, Marcy. I really am.”

“How are you, sir? You and Mrs. Lockwood didn’t work things out.”

“No, we didn’t.” Unsure of where to go, Marcy was still living at the house and was there when Brooke packed her bags and left. I was too out of it to know when she moved out or where she went. Violet helped her find a place to live and made sure she was paid through until the end of the year. It was only weeks later that Violet told me.