Page 63 of The Making of Marnie Jones

“I'm sorry. So sorry.” Marnie whispered the words.

Forgiveness was not given. She watched mutely as Olivia left the room.

Chapter twenty-three

Atfirst,whenJakecame home, he believed himself alone. Quickly, however, he realized his mistake. The silence hung oppressive. It hung suspended in the air like the threatening thunderclouds visible from the living room windows. The sun was long gone—replaced by gunmetal-gray and purple-black clouds about an hour ago. Surprisingly, the skies hadn't exploded yet. But they would.Almost four o'clock.The right time, on a day like today, for a horrendous thunderstorm.

It wouldn’t be the first time he’d ridden out a storm at the condo. He’d even dared to experience a storm from the balcony, feeling the thunder reverberate through his chest.

The day after they convicted Olivia’s kidnapper.

Jake’s anger was primal against Demeter Anton, the son of a bitch who stole four years of his niece’s childhood. And her innocence. Olivia’s testimony of the horrors she endured ate away at his sanity.

Never a violent man, Jake fantasized about killing the monster. A bullet tempted him, but the urge to make the bastard suffer festered like an open and infected wound. By the end of the trial, he’d been ready to tear the man limb from limb. Now he shook off the negative thoughts because Olivia needed him to have a positive outlook.

Since the women might be in the den, he made his way toward it. Only as he passed through the living room did he see Marnie in the fading light. He almost flipped on a lamp when something stopped him.

What the hell?

His first instinct was to drop to a crouch in front of her, but that wouldn’t work. Instead, he placed his messenger bag on the coffee table and sat in one of the chairs.

She’d drawn her legs to her chest with one arm slung over her knees while the other was outstretched, palm up.

Like she was reaching out to him, but he knew better. The look on her face was both vacant and pained at the same time.

His heart broke.

Jesus.

What the hell happened?

He wanted to ask about Olivia but opted for silence. No matter her psychic pain, if his niece was in trouble, Marnie’d fight this—whatever this was. He swallowed against a growing sense of unease.

Something had happened.

The smiling woman who made him coffee this morning was long gone.

He took a breath and settled more comfortably into the chair. Curbing his usual impulse to action, he called up every ounce of patience he possessed.

The first rumble of thunder seemed to bring her back to the present.

For the first time, he sensed her presence in the room. He bit back the urge to beg her to let him in.

Finally she took a deep shuddering breath. “I screwed up.”

Her words hung in the air, and he waited for more. When none was forthcoming, he broke the silence. “I'm sure you didn't.” He tried to convey a certainty he didn't feel.

What the hell happened?

More minutes passed in silence, broken only by another rumble of thunder.

“She started talking. Opening up. She…” She flailed her arm in a circular motion, then rubbed her forehead, exhaling deeply. “Olivia asked if it ever gets better. I don't think she really wanted the answer. She knew I couldn’t give her the answer she needed.”

“What did she say?”

Marnie met his gaze, an odd expression on her face. She was shell-shocked and seemed to need to contemplate her answer.

“I can only talk about it in generalities. We talked for about half an hour. She confided a few of her horrific experiences.” She gritted her teeth. “I screwed up.”

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