Page 117 of The Locksmith's Promise

“Back where he came from,” she answered flatly.

“What happened?”

She tilted her head to the side and sighed. “Is that why you’re here? To talk about Deacon?”

I shook my head. “I want to know why Baxter snuck off to meet with you without telling me.”

“I don’t know if Baxter wants you to know, but I’m tired, so tired of this hanging over my head.” She inhaled deeply.

“Besides,” she continued, staring into space. “It’s my story, too.”

My legs turned to jelly as I sank down onto the couch. There was something terribly, terribly wrong here, and it wasn’t about Jenny’s guilt. I wanted to run faster than I’d ever run before. But running had never solved anything for us.

I swallowed past the tightness in my throat and locked my knees together. “I’m listening.”

“That night I got a text from Baxter asking me to come by. He said something terrible happened with you and he needed help to sort it out.”

“But—”

She held up her hand. “Listen. Just, listen. When I get to the end, you should have all your answers.”

She gathered the blanket tighter around her shoulders, her teeth chattering lightly.

“I told Deacon that Baxter asked me to come over to talk. He wasn’t happy about it, but he drove me over and dropped me off.” She met my eyes. “I should have known something was off. Not once had Baxter ever invited me to his house.”

She shivered. “I can’t tell you how many times over the years I wished Deacon came in with me that day,” she whispered, giving her head a shake.

Taking a breath, she continued, her voice stronger. “I knocked on the door and his father let me in. Told me Baxter wasn’t home yet and asked me if I wanted a beer.”

A warning crawled up my spine.

“I declined but he sneered at me, asked if I was too good for his hospitality. To keep the peace, I went to the fridge and pulled out a beer. I checked the cap. I swear it was solid. Five minutes later, I was woozy and having trouble moving.”

“Oh my God,” I breathed.

“Next thing I know, I’m lying naked in Baxter’s bed and Baxter is tied to a chair. He’s yelling at his father to leave me alone, but his words are slurred, and his head is bobbing all over the place.”

Wide-eyed and lost in the past, her teeth chattered whenever she paused.

Her eyes met mine and she whispered, “He burned his back, Maggie. I don’t even know how many times.”

I covered my mouth with my hands and my tears ran through the gaps in my fingers.

I’d traced those scars with my hands.

Ran my lips over them as if to heal him.

My God, I ran and left him there.

Left them both while that man laughed.

The dizzying truth broke over me and drizzled like freezing rain down the back of my neck.

Violence like I’d never felt before blackened my heart. I hated that man with a visceral passion that left me shaking.

He destroyed us all in one fell swoop.

Broke my heart.

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