Hidden Shadows (The Shadow Series Book 1) (12 page)

Lifting her eyes to the starry sky, Jenna felt as though she could fly. She wanted to lift her arms and see if it was possible. With the feelings that were floating around inside her, she thought it just might be achievable.

As they curved toward the water, she watched the busy ripples, the small waves break. “I love that sound. It’s so soothing.”

“Reminds me of a summer day. Vacationing at the beach and not a worry in the world.”

Jenna smiled as a youthful twosome stepped to the side, leaving the brief narrow strip in the path clear for Ben and Jenna. The carefree smile the young woman gave Jenna spoke of kinship and understanding. It was like an approval, an
I know we’re in the same boat and isn't it great?
look.

Jenna couldn’t say why, but all at once, the warmth in her belly cooled, the magic evaporated. If her infatuation was that apparent to a perfect stranger, how desperate and clingy did she seem to Ben? Why was she snaked around him so tightly? Embarrassed, she unwound her hand from his, consciously put space between them.

“Something wrong?”

“No, it’s just cool out. This dress doesn’t provide much coverage . . .” She pulled at the material as if tugging at it would create more substance.

“Thank the Lord for that,” Ben mumbled.

Instinctively, she swatted his arm. “What I was trying to say,” she enunciated each word, “was in an attempt to not have my teeth chatter, I was holding on to you rather closely. And I apologize.”

He nodded subtly, kept the pace.

When they walked several more yards, she stopped, turned to him with a flare of impatience. “Say something.”

“You and I both know it isn’t that cold out here.” His eyes drifted to the sky. “Nice breeze, sun’s setting, no humidity. Ideal night for walking by the water with a lovely lady melded to you . . . even if she doesn’t want to admit it’s because she wants to.”

She attempted to glare at him, considered a snide remark, but instead decided to be true to her promises for this night and her willingness to accept change—especially if it was good. Besides, she couldn’t—no, wouldn’t—let herself ruin this night of perfection. He’d planned so carefully, so well. He was considerate, kind, worth her time and explanations. And how could she say a cross word to those bright eyes, full of so much enjoyment now in the midst of her temper and edginess?

A small wooden bench sat off the path. Jenna grabbed Ben, walked him over with her. She sat, placed her clutch in her lap, took his hands and placed them there too.

“Ben, I do want to be here with you, very much. I was having—am having—such a wonderful time. Earlier at dinner, what I shared about my family, my past, I don’t want you to think I’m unhappy, or a negative and bitter person. Bit self-conscious about that at the moment,” she explained with a passing laugh, "my best friend used those words on me recently. Anyway, I really am fun. I’m very happy with my life, my job, my children.

“It’s just that I was hurt, very badly. Betrayed by the kids’ father, my ex-husband. And although I hate,
hate
, bringing it up on a first date, I just wanted you to know where I’m coming from. Where I stand. And why I’m . . .”

“Jumpy? Defensive? Scared?”

“Cautious,” she deadpanned.

He smiled, brought a hand to her cheek and rubbed with his thumb. “We’ve all been there at one time or another, right? You’ll come around."

“Hmm.” That small sound held some of the sadness she felt, some of the longing that she were different. “I'm not so good at coming around. As I proved.” She shifted her eyes from his, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear even as the breeze whipped it free again. “The couple, the one that walked by, she gave me this look, this thing between women that says we were the same, both happy, both,” she almost said loved, caught herself, shrugged, “
with
someone. It threw me for a loop. Rattled me. I have a long way to go, Ben."

“I’d say it’s good that all either of us have is time then, wouldn’t you?”

She stared at him, smiled. “I would. I would indeed.”

So saying, she threw caution, and with it her own guarded heart, to the autumn wind and leaning forward, took his face in her hands and kissed him hard and sure.

When she pulled back, saw the heat in his eyes, she swelled with confidence and pride, couldn’t help but grin with it.

Moving his fingers over his lips, he watched her. “You do that much longer, I’ll need a dip in that river.”

“Well, c’mon then.” She rose quickly, wiggled her fingers at him.

He eyed her, curious.

“What, too chicken to put your toes in?” she grinned behind her as she slipped off her shoes, pranced in the cool grass to the water’s edge.

On a huff and mumbled, “Not likely,” he sprang from the bench to follow.

EIGHT

As Ben steered the truck back onto the interstate, Jenna watched the city lights fade in the background. The soaring AT&T tower, its spearing points on either side of the building racing to the sky, was the last to vanish into the night.

She chuckled to herself, remembering the time Dawson woke in the backseat of the car at an overlook of downtown, saw the large spires of the colloquially known Batman Building, and asked sleepily if they were in Gotham City.

She shared the memory with Ben, had him laughing strong and deep.

In fact, he’d laughed or was charmed by most of her Dawson tales as they’d sat by the water tonight, exchanging stories of their backgrounds and lives, families and relationships.

Surprising her, and pulling her even further out of that quicksand of hesitation and doubt, he’d shown genuine interest in Jacy’s ballet, Dawson’s rambunctious sagas. He'd been amused, asked questions, and shared his own childhood.

He’d reminisced about his and Joseph’s youth. Living like typical boys, they climbed trees, broke lamps, bones, scraped knees, and told little white lies about who did what to whom.

Just as she could tell Ben loved Heidi fiercely, loyally, she knew the same was true for Joseph. Jenna also knew if it was difficult for her to understand just where Joseph was and what he was doing, it had to be distressing for Ben. And Heidi, too.

She figured there was far more to that situation than she knew. But she didn’t, and wouldn’t, prod for more information. If and when Ben wanted to tell her more and let her in, he would.

“What the—”

The alarm in Ben’s voice and squealing brakes had Jenna snapping to attention, bracing for a crash. But none came.

The truck tires screamed to an abrupt halt and a door slammed. Booted feet walked the ground, rounded to her side of the vehicle.

“Stay in the truck,” Ben ordered.

Only then did Jenna finally open the eyes she’d squinted shut. Ben stood at the hood of the truck.

“Stay in,” he repeated firmly.

What? What’s going on? Where are we?

Confused, and a bit shaken, Jenna glanced around, her heart pounding with anticipation. Getting her bearings, she quickly adjusted, calmed herself with a few breaths when she realized they were sitting right in front of her house.

But why hadn’t Ben pulled in the driveway? Why had he scared her to death by screeching to a stop mere feet from her front door?

Heart almost settled, breath almost back to normal, she opened the truck door, stepped down onto the curb. And nearly crumbled when she raised her eyes to her beautiful home.

The windows, door, her precious new bed of flowers. She didn’t know where to focus first, couldn’t even process what she was seeing.

Glass, graffiti, up-rooted shrubs, ripped petals, mounds of mulch, dirt, and debris met her gaze in every direction.

Dear God, what had happened here?

Her immediate heart-stopping thought was the children.
Where are they? Who are they with? Are they okay?
Her calm began to shatter again. She stumbled back to the truck, leaned against the open door. Her mind raced to put together pieces of the puzzle that were her day and weekend. The kids were with Keith, with Keith. Safe and sound. Not hurt. Not involved in this. Thank you, God!

She forced herself to breathe, to think, to look. Steadying her legs, she stepped away from the truck, raised her eyes, and surveyed the shambles of her home again.

A storm? An accident? Multiple burglaries? Jenna looked around, assessing any damage done to neighbors’ houses. All she saw were perfectly groomed lawns and homes with families cozily tucked inside.

Her ears pricked at movement from the right side of the house. She crouched, ready to spring into action. Run, fight, scream—whatever she had to do.

A firm hand grabbed her arm from behind. She whipped around, ready to defend.

“I thought I told you to stay put,” Ben all but growled. Like the scene before her, he looked unusual to Jenna, not like himself. His eyes were wary, his mouth set too firm.

“Stay put?” she hissed. “Look around you!” She gestured hugely with her arms, wanting to encompass the entire disaster area.

“Exactly. That’s why I told you to stay. You have no idea who could be out here.”

“It’s my house, I
should
be out here. I mean, look around you,” she repeated, her mind cycling from confusion, to anger, to helplessness. Her roaming eyes stopped on the second story, where her babies slept. The broken window had her breath hitching, had her meeting Ben’s eyes, lips trembling. “What is going on, Ben? Did someone do this?”

His sober stare told her all she needed.

“Why?” Tears fought their way to the corners of her eyes and trailed down her cheeks. “Who?"

“I don’t know, Jenna. I don’t know.” He pulled her to him now, wrapped his arms around her. She collapsed into the sturdiness, grateful for the strength, the security.

“Wish I did.” He tightened his grip on her, loosened after an audible exhale. “They’re not here anymore though. I circled the house. Doors are secure. Windows have splinters, breaks, but none big enough for a body to crawl through. ‘Least not without a heap of pain.”

He pulled her back, put a hand under her chin to raise her face to his. Though his mouth was still firmly set, his eyes were tender. Gently, he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, grazed her bangs with his fingertips, sweeping them off her forehead.

“I called the police; they’re on their way. We’ll get this figured out, cleaned up. Okay?”

She nodded, scrubbed at her face.

“How about we wait inside? No need to catch a chill.”

He took her arm, draped it gently around his neck, and placed his hand on the small of her back for support. He veered toward the driveway, avoiding the nasty words sprayed on the front windows, brick, and door.

As they rounded the corner, Jenna gasped, began an awkward run before stopping to fling off her heels and continue. “Oh, no! No, no, no!” she moaned.

The garage door was pried open on one side, raised just enough to slink under. She ducked to pass through the bowed opening with Ben at her heels.

Her heart deflated as she surveyed her compact garage and the formerly new car within. All four tires on the Jeep were flat, slashed to ribbons. The champagne paint had been scraped off in more places than not and
bitch
was scrawled in white lettering on the back glass—the only unbroken unit.

Every bit of the interior was hacked to bits. Rags and tatters of taupe cloth lay scattered on the floorboards, around the SUV’s body. The leather of the console and dashboard had been cut and gouged and damaged beyond repair.

Slowly, tentatively, Jenna circled the destruction. Unsure what to do, she went on instinct, bent carefully and began picking up pieces of shattered glass and taillights.

Kneeling on the cold concrete, Jenna felt as broken as the bits in her hand. Yes, her children were unharmed—priority one—and yes, these were material things. But they were her material things. Things she had worked for, saved for, earned. And someone else came and took them.

No, destroyed them.

Her mind couldn’t comprehend that someone had purposefully done this to her house—to her, more correctly. She looked at Ben, tears swimming again, said the only thing she could think of. “Why?”

“Okay, that’s enough now. We’ve seen enough.” He gathered her up, led the way to the trio of steps. He checked the door, determined it was tamper-free.

When Ben produced her clutch she hadn’t even known he had, she felt a moment of relief, swamped quickly by frivolity as she unlocked the door to a home that felt anything but secure.

Her hands shook as she turned the knob, stepped into the dark laundry room. When she froze, inhaled sharply, Ben gripped her waist.

“Nothing to be afraid of,” he assured. “I’m right here beside you.” But his hand darted out, snatched a glow-in-the-dark flashlight resting on the dryer.

“This Dawson’s?” he asked light-heartedly.

Jenna nodded and squeezed the steadying hand around her waist.

“Hmm. Sturdy for a play thing.”