Page 7 of Just My Ex

I have to go to the Tate’s resort again.

Ca-rap.

It’s a very good thing that Henry won’t be there. He’s off being a security officer for Evangeline Ostlin, one of the most important women in Europe.

It’s a difficult job, and back when we were married, he wasn’t willing to get help for his PTSD or to find something where he could be home with us more often.

He let me let him go.

And now I have to go crawling to his brothers.

Chapter 3

Henry

It’s still dark here in Washington, D.C. when Victor, my Army buddy, calls, saying something about a “bit of an incident” at Quinn’s house. At those words, and the tone of his voice, I’m up and out of my bed, alert, as if I’d been up for an hour and done my workout already.

“There was a guy,” Victor says through the phone. “Older. Stocky. He came out of the backyard and ran down the street.”

“Did you get a photo? How did he get in the yard in the first place?”

There’s a pause. “I didn’t see him go in. I’m sorry. I only just got here. You said you didn’t need me very much at night, just the quick surveillance every few nights.”

“It’s—” I almost say “okay,” but I can’t. It’s not okay that there was a man in Quinn’s backyard, which wasourbackyard until a year ago. “I’m just glad you were there at all. Did you follow him?”

“I tried, but I got a little distracted.” His voice is cautious, like I’m not going to like what he’s about to say.

“What do you mean? What happened?”

Victor doesn’t get distracted. He was a soldier, one of the best in my platoon.

“Quinn started to run after him.” It’s like Victor releases that bit of news and then I can hear him smiling through the phone. “She can book it, man! She’s fast. Even in her pajamas and robe.” He laughs and then grows serious again.

I wonder if they were the green plaid ones. Too big, they were men’s pajamas, but they were my favorite.

Thinking about her pajamas is only delaying the inevitable, which is the next thought:Quinn chased after an intruder.

I’m not surprised, knowing Quinn. But it’s unsettling. Stupidly dangerous.

“Don’t worry,” Victor says. “She stopped before she even left the property.”

“Did you see a car leaving the scene? What did she do then?” I’m in autopilot, getting dressed with no rhyme or reason about what I’m putting on. I pull my suitcase down from the top shelf of my closet.

“I didn’t see or hear any vehicles at all. After Quinn went back inside, I drove around the neighborhood for a while. Nothing was out of place. I recognized all the cars in the vicinity, and I didn’t see anyone. It was like he vanished.”

“Or maybe he was hiding in someone’s backyard, waiting to go back.”

“Well, I’m still here, on the street. I’ll keep watching.” Victor’s voice is reassuring.

“Thank you,” I tell him before getting off the phone. Having him there helps ease my mind, but I can’t ask him to keep watch twenty-four seven.

I make up my mind, even though my autopiloting body had already decided it, that I’m getting to Irvine as soon as I can. I finish packing, and then spend the rest of the morning pacing until I get another call from Victor telling me Quinn is at the airport, and from the looks of it, she’s flying to Denver.

This is good news. Really good.

Through all of this, there’s only one thought in my mind, and it’s not too different than most of my thoughts since our marriage ended: I will protect Quinn and Navie.

*****

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