Chapter 8

Jenna nearly sobbed with relief when she arrived home to find her door locked and her lights working. She flew through the tiny house grabbing whatever essentials her hysterical mind could think of and throwing them in a bag. She knew he would come for her. She could feel him stalking closer, hear his promise to enslave her echoing through her brain.

Oh god, why hadn't she just done what he'd wanted and given Enrico the message? It'd just been a date and a time. Saturday at noon. The exact time Steve Buffalo had died. An event that had taken place without her cooperation. She knew that she couldn't be complicit in whatever they were planning, just as she knew now, in her heart, that her conscience was clear. Only her damn conscience was going to get her raped and killed.

For a split second she thought about going to the police, of reporting the incident to the prison. She didn't want the burden of knowing who killed Steve Buffalo. But it was her word against theirs and pissing off the big guy from last night even more seemed like a bad idea. Maybe she should have gone to the police when Jared first arrived on her doorstep, but she'd managed the situation and didn't want the hassle of a police report. And then, when her night-time intruder kissed her.... she'd liked it. She'd been confused and hadn't wanted to tell the police exactly how he was threatening her. Besides, she had to think about Lola. If she went to the police now, she could potentially be charged with accessory after the fact for not reporting Enrico the moment he mentioned that note to her. Now it was too late. Buffalo was dead and she was a marked woman.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

This day was the worst ever! She had lost her patient, despite having worked desperately hard to revive him. He'd died before they'd gotten him out of the gang yard. She was still wearing the same scrubs, splattered in his blood. She didn't want to slow down long enough to change. She could change when she got there. Throwing a few items of clothes into a backpack, she gathered up her bags and ran out to her car.

Zach was going to be extremely pleased to see her on his doorstep. She hated that thought, but she didn't have a choice. She wasn't going to ground unless she had her little girl and she couldn't do that without cozying up to her ex. Zach had wanted her back almost from the moment she left their mansion two years ago and he'd been using Lola as a bargaining chip ever since. She would have to pretend she was in trouble, which really wasn't too much of a stretch. She would pretend that she'd finally seen the light. She would tell him she missed him and she was done living in poverty. She'd throw herself on his mercy and beg his forgiveness, whatever it took to get her inside the house. Then she'd disappear with Lola the moment his back was turned.

It took all of her concentration not to speed during the forty-five-minute drive to Zach's house. Her eyes flitted constantly to the rearview mirror, searching for any suspicious vehicles. It felt like they were all out to get her. She was mentally and physically drained by the time she followed the curving drive around to the front of the house she used to share with her ex-husband

She got out of the car, leaving her bags behind in case he decided to send her packing instead. Wearily she climbed the steps to the front door. She wrapped the edges of her sweater around herself, trying to cover the bloodstains on her scrubs. She rang the bell and stood waiting, shivering in the gathering darkness as evening descended.

The door opened and her ex-husband looked down at her for several silent seconds, his gaze completely inscrutable. Then a satisfied smile split his lips as he greeted her. "Welcome home, darling."