Page 60 of The Grief We Hold

“Snacks are good. Chips and dip or something.”

I nod. “Perfect.”

“See you then.”

I watch Quinn stroke the dog’s head and soothe his whining before untying him and heading back towards the bakery.

My phone rings, causing me to jump again. It’s an unknown number, but something makes me answer. For all I know, it could be Sue’s husband, lost, trying to bring Fen home. So, I answer.

“Raven,” Marco says before I can even say hello.

My husband’s voice does the absolute opposite of Wraith’s. The mere timbre of it has me bracing for the worst. My heart races because of the way he says those five letters.

“Marco. Where have you been, you asshole?”

“I need you to go upstairs. There’s a second safe. Back of my closet. I need you to put the contents into your purse and then drive yourself and Fen to New York. You won’t be able to board a plane with the contents.”

After the fight I had with Wraith, I’m at the end of my emotional tether.

“That’s it? At first, I thought you were hurt or dead. I had no idea what to say to Fen. Then I find out you’re a criminal who ran, leaving me to deal with the police and our furious friends you screwed over. They all hate us. You ignore all my calls and messages to find out where you are. And then you call me, a month later, demanding I become your courier and drive everything to you. Worse, you assume I am exactly where you left me.”

“Rave, sweetheart. I’ll explain when I see you. I had some…trouble.”

“I know.” I yell the words. Shit. I take a deep breath. “You left me alone to face the ‘trouble’ who broke into our home to find you.”

“Were you hurt? You didn’t call the police, did you?”

“Oh my God. Is that what you care about? The police? We were terrified. Of course I called the police. I filed a missing person report when you went missing. Then I called them after the break-in. Thank God Fen wasn’t home when it happened.”

“Are you okay, though? I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I thought it was for the best you didn’t know.”

I shake my head, even though he can’t see me. “You have no idea what’s for my best.”

“Listen, I can’t talk now, but we’ll discuss it when you get here. There’s cash, some jewelry, some documents, and two guns in the safe. The code is my birthday in reverse. Eight digits. All four numbers for the year. It’ll take a week to drive here. Stay in motels. Pay cash.”

“Cash? You emptied all our accounts.” I laugh, almost hysterically.

“There’s cash in the safe.”

Wouldn’t that have been good to know before we ran.

“I’m not the Bonnie to your Clyde. I want no part in this. I refuse to let our son lose both his parents.”

“This is the only time I’ll ask. I promise. Do this one thing for me and I’ll?—”

“Stop begging. I’m not in Seattle anymore.”

“Where the fuck are you?”

“Far from Seattle.”

There’s a long pause. “How far?”

“Far enough that I’m not travelling back there to pick anything up for you. Nor am I driving for days straight to see you. I want a divorce, Marco.”

Another pause. “Let’s not talk about that now.”

“I mean it. Even if you hadn’t left us alone and in danger, I was planning to divorce you anyway.”

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