Page 71 of Loving at 40

Which is how I ended up here . . . sitting on the stern as we coast through the large lake, disappearing in the night. I expected Vi to place me in some hull, tied up and sequestered until we reached her destination. Instead, she allows me a seat above deck like a guest. This is all part of her game.

“Let the chase begin,” she teases. She loves the thrill of cat and mouse. Most days, she thought I was the mouse, but I proved I was a tiger, capable of handling her. It’s how I got in with the family.

As the night passes, utter blackness surrounds us. Running on low lights is dangerous, but this large boat cruises, and then I see it, just off in the distance.

Something small. Something sleek. Something following us.

I’m not certain if Vi notices. She’s too busy watching me.

“I should have finished you,” she snarls. “Should have blown that cocky cock right off you.”

“You liked it too much to ever do such a thing,” I snap back at her. Her eyes blaze, and at one time, I knew that’s when I should strike. Her anger was hardwired to her arousal, so one touch from me while in this heightened state made her putty in my fingers. I swallow back the bile in my throat at the thought of touching her body so intimately.

“So true, baby. So true. And I’m almost tempted to use it one more time before I kill you.”

I’d never touch her again. Never allow her to touch me. Not when I have someone sweet, and good, and clean. Not when I have someone hopefully waiting for me.

Jenna. She’s my focus as well as that small dark mass keeping its distance but definitely following us.

Slowly, I stand, walking to the railing and leaning against it.

“Don’t do anything stupid, Hunter, or is it Archer now?” Vi questions. She must have heard Jenna use my name.

“Who do you want me to be?” I ask her, spinning to place my back against the railing.

“I wanted you to be my husband. You took me for a fool.” Vi’s eyes glare with hatred.

My soul matches that look. If I never see her again, I’ll be happy, and I’m about to make that dream come true.

“Ms. Quintero, we have a problem,” another lackey on the yacht claims. “Eight and four.” I recognize the coordinates. Two boats are following us. Hitching myself up just the slightest bit, I sit precariously on the edge of the railing.

“Don’t do it,” Vi states, holding my gaze. “I’ll shoot you without a thought.”

“Here’s the thing, Vi. You don’t think, not with your heart, and that’s been your problem. And now, thankfully, you’re no longer mine.” I pause, inching back just the slightest and praying this works. “Take your best shot, babe, because we both know your aim sucks.”

“Shoot him,” she demands of the man close to her.

With that, a shot rings out.

Then the world is cold and dark, and I hold my breath, envisioning the only thing real in my life.

Jenna.

28

Three months later

[Jenna]

Fall brings a familiar routine. I rush through the mornings to collect what I need for a day of teaching and prepare my girls for daycare. Talia is attending full-day kindergarten this year, and it’s another change for all of us. My baby girl isn’t a baby but a school student. I’m elated while melancholy that time passes so quickly. Once again, I struggle with the fact Ryan missed out on these milestones for his daughters.

To my surprise, my girls are fighting one night in the room they share. Our house is small and simple. I’d purchased it before I met Ryan, and the ease in our relationship moved him into my place. We’d hoped to find something bigger, something more forever further down the road in our marriage. However, my little cottage-style home near town might be where I’m planted for a long time.

“He’s not dead,” Rosie yells as I enter the bedroom, surprised by the shrill of her voice and the redness in her face.

“Who’s not dead?” I ask.

“Archer,” Rosie pouts, glaring at her older sister from across the space between their beds.