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I shrug and pull up to the estate gates. “I’m not saying that I’m insensitive to your exhaustion, Bubs. But exactly how tired are you?”
Her plump lips tug up at the side. “Why?”
“Your yawn gave me ideas.”
She smacks my thigh and laughs. “You’re such a pig.” With a frown, she leans forward until her nose almost touches the windshield. “What the hell…”
I follow her gaze to find Benny on the lawn out front of Kit’s house. Livi crawls in front of him as he holds her pyjamas as though he was out walking a puppy.
I rush the Jeep through the gates and pull up in Bobby and Kit’s driveway. “What are you guys doing outside?” I jump out before the handbrake’s all the way up, and I rush forward and pick Livi up. She’s soaking wet from the grass and shivering violently. “Fuck. Bubs, come here, quick.”
She rushes toward us with Bean’s car seat in one hand, and I practically toss Livi into her arms to juggle in the other. I turn back to Ben and kneel low. “Where’s your mom, Ben?”
“Inside.”
“What are you doing outside?”
“Daddy smacked me.” His simple words set my gut on fire. “Daddy’s talking to Mommy.”
“Iz!” I push him toward her legs. “Take them inside.”
“But–”
“Now! Take them inside. Our place. Or Bobby’s. Take them in. Call the cops. Call Bobby.”
“Jim, just wait–”
I don’t wait, I sprint to Lindsi’s front porch and stop at the door. I spin around and jab a finger toward Bobby’s place.Get inside!
Stubborn, Iz glares in the darkness for a moment, but when Livi whines in the cold, she turns on her heel and ushers three kids toward Bobby’s front porch.
I wait until they’re inside with the door closed before I turn back to the silent house. We’ve already made a bunch of noise – the Jeep driving up, car doors closing, Livi’s whining, me telling Iz to move her ass – so if Ben’s inside, he already knows I’m here.
Touching the doorknob as though irrationally worried it might be boiling hot, I twist the handle and narrow my eyes at the fact it’s not locked.
Pushing it open as silently as I can, I stop at the sight of Lindsi right in front of me. For half a second, I feel silly, like she’s okay, like she’s just busted me for entering her house without an invitation, but then my brain registers the reality in front of me.
Lindsiisright in front of me.
But she’s not okay. She stands on her tiptoes and swings each time she falls off balance. Blood coats her throat, her hands, her chest and shirt. Ben sprints from the front room toward the kitchen with a wild laugh that doesn’t fit the scene.
But scarily, it does.
Blood roars in my brain until, gurgling dangerously, my attention is drawn back to Lindsi. She’s choking to death. Blood vessels burst in her eyes, on her cheeks. Blood dribbles from her hairline. Her choking breath makes my decision and has me sprinting the ten feet between where I stand and where she hangs. I bunch my muscles, jump from three feet away, and use the chair as a second springboard. Grabbing her on the fly and reaching out for the chandelier with my other hand, I tear both her and the light fixture from the ceiling and send us both painfully crashing to the tile floor.
I cover Lindsi’s body with mine as crystal, glass, and plaster rain down around us, but at her panicked thrashing, I rush to my hands and knees and work to loosen the knot. “Hold on. Hold on.” I push her frantic hands away. “Stop! You’re pulling it tighter.”
I peel the blood-soaked rope from her neck and work not to vomit at the slurping noise as the fibers pull away from her skin. I drag the loosened rope over her head, and as I toss it aside, her lips frantically work to speak, but nothing comes out beyond gurgling and groans.
“Your kids are okay.” With shaking hands, I work them along her broken body and grit my teeth at the blood-red tears that slide along her cheeks. “I promise, Linds. They’re at Bobby’s house. They’re okay.”
“Jim!”
“Bubs!” I spin and bring Lindsi around with me. “Go back to the house. Now. Call the cops and get back outside.”
“Kit’s there.” Iz scrambles toward us and skids along the brand-new tiles on her knees. “Lindsi! What happened? Oh my God–”
“Where’s my son?”
