Page 20 of Dangerous Lies

TWELVE

“I’m scared.”

Megan’s voice trembled as she clutched the phone to her ear. She was buried under a thick blanket on the couch, her knees tucked underneath her. Her father’s Bible rested on her lap. It’d been hours since the attack, but the tension in her muscles refused to ease.

The house was still and quiet. Her grandparents had gone to bed an hour ago. Exhaustion dragged at Megan’s body, but every time she closed her eyes, her mind betrayed her. All she could see was the drone, its flames streaking through the air, and the myriad ways the nightmare could’ve ended differently.

Unsettled and in desperate need of a lifeline, she’d called her sponsor Sandy McMillian. Thirty years sober and the definition of tough love, Sandy was the type of person who told you what you needed to hear, not what you wanted. Back when Megan lived in Fort Worth, they’d often meet for coffee or sit side by side at NA meetings, but even now, miles apart, Sandy was always just a phone call away.

“Grateful doesn’t begin to cover it,” Megan whispered, tracing her fingers along the worn leather cover of her father’s Bible. “No one was seriously hurt today, and that’s a miracle. But it feels like my life is spinning out of control, Sandy. I don’t know how far this person will go to kill me. What if…” Her voice cracked, and she took a shaky breath. “What if the next time someone gets seriously hurt?”

The silence on the other end of the line stretched just long enough for Megan to realize how tightly she gripped the phone.

Sandy sighed. “You’re scared, and you have every right to be, hon. What happened today was terrifying. But fear doesn’t get to drive the bus. You hear me? It’s a passenger. Let it sit there, sure—but you keep your hands on the wheel.”

“I know, but…” Megan’s thumb brushed over the gilded edges of the Bible. “It’s hard to block out the fear and worry, no matter how much I pray or try to focus on the positive. God’s in control, I know that, but…”

She didn’t know how to put into words everything she was feeling. It was all muddled together. All Megan knew was the last time she’d felt like this was when her mom died. Then again, after Oliver’s accident. Both times, she’d run away from her problems. The first time by using drugs, the second by leaving town. The instinct to run away again pulsed through her veins like a battle cry. It was difficult to hold it back.

“I want to face this head-on, but I’m not sure I have the strength to do it.” Megan finally found the words for her deepest fears. “What if I discover all this hard work I’ve done to better myself has been for nothing?”

“I don’t believe that for a second.” Sandy’s words were immediate and full of conviction. “You’re stronger than you know. And you’re not doing this alone. You’ve got your grandparents, your friends, and your coworkers. You’ve got that detective you mentioned. What’s his name? Jax? You’ve got me. But most importantly, you’ve got God. Lean on your support system. That’s what we’re here for.”

Sandy was right. In the past, Megan had shied away from asking for help. She’d been too prideful, too independent. Recovery had taught her that when struggles came, relying on others was essential.

She drew in a deep breath. “I don’t need to have all the answers.”

“No, you don’t. Focus on what you can control, and do the next right thing.” The older woman’s voice softened. “When life feels overwhelming, take it moment by moment. Breathe, pray, and remember, you aren’t fighting this battle alone.”

“Thank you, Sandy. I needed to hear that.” Megan drew in another deep breath and felt the tight knot of fear in her stomach loosen. “I’m sorry for calling so late. Thanks for talking with me.”

“You can call anytime, honey. I’m always here. And I know things are up in the air, but go to a meeting if you can. It’ll help ground you.”

“I will.” Megan was supposed to lead the NA meeting tomorrow night, but after the drone attack, she’d asked Douglas to fill in for her. She didn’t want to risk anyone else getting caught in the crossfire. But as soon as it was safe, she would go to a meeting. “Goodnight, Sandy.”

She hung up and let the stillness of the house seep into her. The blinds overlooking the backyard were tilted open, the outline of the charred boathouse visible in the faint moonlight. Nestled under the warm blanket, sleep beckoned. She was safe. Chief Garcia had posted a patrol officer at the front of the house to stand guard for the night. Nothing bad would happen.

Megan leaned her head back against the sofa cushion and yawned.

A shadow shifted in the yard.

She jolted into a sitting position, her heart taking off like a runaway jackrabbit. The blanket fell from her body, letting the cold air rush in. Goosebumps pricked her skin. She rose from the couch to peer through the blinds. Someone was in the yard. A man. Strolling past the boathouse toward the back door.

A scream lodged in Megan’s throat, and then a sliver of moonlight cut across the intruder’s face.

Jax.

She pressed a hand to her chest as if that would slow her racing pulse and dragged in a deep breath before whirling on her heel. Frigid air washed over her bare arms when she opened the back door. The porch boards were icy even through her thick socks. “Jax, what on earth are you doing here? You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

He emerged from the darkness, the harsh porch light casting a long shadow behind him. “I’m keeping watch. Sorry if I scared you.” Jax made a shooing motion with his hands, indicating Megan should go back inside. He followed behind her, locking the door and then securing the alarm. Only then did he turn back to face her. “I thought you were asleep.”

“Clearly not.” The words came out harsher than she intended, but her heart was still racing. She forced her tone back into neutral territory. “Chief Garcia posted an officer in the driveway. Isn’t Tucker still there?”

“Yes, but if there’s an emergency, he’ll be called away to handle it, leaving you unprotected. I didn’t want to take the risk.”

The last of Megan’s temper cooled. Jax was going above and beyond, and she’d been harsh with him. “I’m sorry for being short. Thank you for keeping an eye on us.”

“It’s nothing.” He shrugged.

---