No One But You (Silver Springs #2)(8)

So? Did you go this morning?

She stared at those words, wishing he could simply disappear from the planet. Perhaps that wasn’t a generous thought, but she’d been feeling smothered for so long she’d begun to fantasize about a world where he didn’t exist.

“Mommy! Watch!”

Sadie shaded her eyes so she could see her son go down the slide. Fortunately, the sun was out and the sand wasn’t too soggy from the rain earlier. She’d been playing with Jayden for two hours. They needed to get going so she could take care of some banking, shopping and other errands. But Jayden was having so much fun she’d decided to give him a few more minutes. “Wow! Look at you!” she said. “You’re getting to be such a big boy.”

“I’m going again!” he announced but got distracted by a shovel and pail a little girl, maybe six, was using near the swings.

As soon as Sadie felt confident his new friend was willing to share and that the mother didn’t mind, she returned her attention to Sly’s text. If she didn’t respond, he’d only call her or come over later.

Yes, I went, she wrote.

Are you fucking kidding me?

She blanched at the profanity. She could hear him screaming that at her...

Please tell me you didn’t take the job, he wrote.

I need the work, she wrote back.

That’s a yes? You took a job from a killer????

Her phone rang. It was Sly, of course, anxious to shout at her. Texting ugly things wasn’t nearly as satisfying; he craved a full verbal assault.

She pressed the Decline button, but after the ringing stopped, her phone pinged again. Answer, damn it!

When she didn’t respond to that, either, he kept calling.

Finally, with a sigh, she picked up. She figured she might as well get this over with while Jayden was distracted. Why subject her sensitive child to another argument between Mommy and Daddy if she could possibly avoid it? “Sly, what I do with my life is up to me,” she said in lieu of a greeting.

“That’s bullshit. Don’t let Dawson Reed fool you. He’s dangerous. I won’t have my wife anywhere near him, especially out there on the farm alone. Do you know how many places he could hide your body?”

Ducking her head so that her voice wouldn’t carry, she murmured, “I’m not your wife anymore.”

“Yes, you are. The divorce isn’t final.”

“That’s a technicality.”

“So? You’re the mother of my child. That means I should have some say.”

“No, it doesn’t! I’m taking proper care of Jayden. If you’re concerned that he’ll be at Petra’s too much, you can watch him yourself when you’re not at work. That would be a great way to make sure he remains safe.” She wasn’t convinced spending so much time with Sly would be good for Jayden, however. She’d hate to subject him to more of his father’s disapproval. Sly was so disappointed that their son wasn’t the rough-and-tumble boy he’d expected that he couldn’t help making snide comments: What do you mean, you don’t want to watch basketball with me? All boys—real boys—love sports... Why do you let him put on your lipstick? Are you trying to turn him into a fag? On and on it went. One time when Sly had taken Jayden for a few hours, she’d arrived to pick him up only to find him in time-out—for telling his father he preferred dance lessons to Little League.

“You’d like to turn me into your babysitter, wouldn’t you?” he said.

Not really. But she had to make the offer. No judge was going to deny Sly visitation rights. He was a police officer! And it wasn’t as if she could claim he was physically abusive. “I’m saying it’s an option.”

“So you can go off and make money you’ll use to keep our family apart? Screw that! Why would I help you when I haven’t done anything to deserve what you’re doing to me?”

“You’ve never done anything to cause the divorce?” she echoed, shocked that he could even make such a statement. “What about the day you nearly ran me over with your squad car?”

“For the millionth time, I didn’t nearly run you down. I didn’t see you standing there.”

That was what he said, but she was fairly certain he had seen her...

“Besides, I’ve apologized for scaring you.”

“So that makes it better?”

“What else can I do? I didn’t know you were there, yet I apologized anyway. That’s nice, isn’t it? I’ll make everything else up to you, too. I’ve told you I would, but you won’t give me the chance!”

“Because I’m done, Sly. I can’t do it anymore.”

“This time will be different. I promise. You’ll be happy. I’ll make you happy. You don’t need to work for some murderer!”

He couldn’t make her happy. Any chance of that had been extinguished long ago. “We don’t know he’s a murderer.”

“Who else killed those people? The mysterious hitchhiker he claims he met earlier in the night? The one he claimed was tweaking and acting irrationally?”

“Maybe. Was his story ever really checked out?”

“His story was ridiculous! What are the chances that some stranger—a drug addict—he had an altercation with is going to be able to find the Reed farmhouse and kill the Reeds before Dawson can even get home?”