Page 31 of Tracking Safety

“I did. I was given a new name. Jenna Jones. They placed me in Charlottesville and helped me establish a new life on paper—new identity, new address, new history. New . . . everything.” She exhaled slowly. “I gave up my job as a physical therapist. It would have been too easy to trace credentials. Instead, I took an administrative position at a nursing home and tried to make myself as invisible as possible.”

Luke said nothing, but Jenna knew he was absorbing every word she spoke.

“I’d been there about six months when I met you.” She kept her voice even. “I wasn’t supposed to get involved with anyone. I knew better. I had very specific instructions about keeping a low profile.” A smile tried to tug at her lips despite everything. “But you were persistent.”

She glanced at him and saw his eyes warm just slightly.

“I told myself I could keep my distance,” she murmured. “I was wrong. You broke down every defense I had. One day I realized I’d stopped looking over my shoulder quite so much. I thought I was safe. I thought maybe life could be normal again. I thought I could just be Jenna King and that would be enough.”

“And what happened?” His voice dropped low at the question, showing the intensity of what he was feeling at the moment.

“I had twelve good years as Jenna Jones then Jenna King. I let myself believe it was going to last.” Her voice dropped. “Then one afternoon I was in town doing the weekly grocery shopping, and one of the marshals who’d been assigned to me showed up.”

“What did he say?”

“He told me Roderick escaped from prison. They were still searching for him, but he told his cellmates that his only goal was to find me and make me pay for what I’d done to him. They believed someone—they had no idea who—may have given him my new name.”

Luke’s gaze was intense as he waited for her to continue, a swirl of emotions battering his eyes.

“He gave me twenty-four hours to decide what I was going to do,” she said. “That was all. And I had no idea what the right thing was. I only knew I had to keep you and the kids safe.”

That was all she’d ever wanted . . . but would Luke ever really understand that?

CHAPTER 11

Luke let Jenna’s words settle.

Or was it Ellie? Would he ever think of her that way?

Ellie Johnson. Ellie Barone. Jenna Jones. Jenna King.

The woman he’d married, the mother of his children, had been living under a name that wasn’t hers from the moment he met her. Every time he’d said her name he’d been saying something that belonged to a life she’d been given, not a life she’d chosen.

He remembered how protective she’d always been of the kids. How she’d been jumpy. How she’d always thought in worst-case scenarios.

At the time, he’d dismissed that as part of her personality. But what if there was more to it? What if she’d acted like that because she was running for her life?

He hadn’t put it together. Not until now.

He set those thoughts aside and focused on what he could process.

Jenna had been protecting him and the kids. That was what she said. She’d left to keep everyone safe. She’d walked away from the life they’d built together because staying had become dangerous.

She’d also made that decision alone without giving him the chance to weigh in.

His jaw hardened at the thought.

“So you left. You didn’t tell us. Didn’t tell me.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Jenna, I could have helped. You could have told me about WitSec. I thought we shared everything, that we didn’t keep secrets.”

A new emotion crossed her face. It wasn’t surprise. It was more like she’d been expecting his comment and dreading it at the same time.

“I couldn’t tell you about WitSec,” she told him. “Believe me—I wanted to. But I was told I couldn’t. That I would put everything in jeopardy if I did. That I needed to forget who I used to be and pretend like she didn’t exist.”

He’d never met her family. He understood why now. She’d come to him with no past she could share and no people she could name, and he’d loved her without ever knowing the silence had been forced on her.

“What about when this marshal approached you at the store? You never thought about telling me that?”

“You helping me would have meant upending your life. Our children’s lives. All of us would’ve been targets. It would have meant new identities. A new place to live. No contact with your family.” She held his gaze. “I’ve lived that life, Luke. For years before I met you. It was hard, and it was lonely, and it wasn’t what I wanted for you. For our children.”