Page 61 of Opening Strain

“I can drive,” I offer. Inside, I think: Please don’t make me, though. If the paparazzi find us, I don’t want a repeat of last night.

“It seems quiet now, Bennett. I’ll drive.” She presses her key fob and the doors unlock.

I’m still a gentleman. I walk to her door and open it, bowing low. “After you, Candy Kong.”

Her giggle is my reward for remembering the girlfriend of her favorite arcade game, Donkey Kong. This is Jenna’s first sign of humor since we checked the tabloids this morning. The sound makes my stomach flip, and not in a bad way. Once she’s seated, I close her door and walk to the passenger side.

“My leg doesn’t hurt today,” I note.

“Great. I was hoping you’d say that. You’ve been rehabbing hard. So long as you keep to linear movements, I think you’ll be fine.”

I click my seatbelt. “Do you agree with me about this house? The interior didn’t live up to the exterior?”

She starts the car and plugs in the address to the next property into her GPS. “Yeah. Too bad, though. It’s on a gorgeous lot.”

She enters an empty street, and I release my pent-up worry. We’re alone on the road. “I appreciate you taking time away from your work to help me escape the press.”

“It was actually a little fun,” Jenna replies. “Sort of cloak and dagger. I appreciate how you deflected them.”

“They have no right to call you nasty names. They’re idiots.”

“Not sure about their IQs, but I’ll give it to you, they’re a nasty group of people. Seems like all they want to do is sell photos and lies.”

The tight skin around her eyes gives away how much their nickname hurt her. “Hey. We know the truth about what happened. You had nothing to do with Darren’s death. Nothing at all. Hell, you probably kept him from overdosing several times before.”

Her fingers around the steering wheel tighten but she doesn’t say anything. Which leads me to believe she did stop him before that night.

“You did, didn’t you?”

The GPS now has her full attention. I don’t push, I don’t have to. I replay her reaction when I had to tell her of his passing. She was out of her mind with grief, sure, but there was a discordant note I never quite placed. Like she thought his death was inevitable. A burden she carried for too long.

This line of thought brings me to 007, and the fact he was in Darren’s room that terrible morning. Like he routinely checked on his best friend. As if he knew something bad could’ve happened during the night.

I shelve my thoughts about 007 and focus on the woman here with me. “Jenna. I’m sorry.” What else can I say?

“It wasn’t my fault, I know that. He was my boyfriend, not my responsibility. It sucks how he died, and I wasn’t able to stop it.” She pulls up to the security guardhouse for the community and gives him King’s name. Sporting a new temporary pass, we push forward.

In the driver’s seat, she appears tiny and fragile. But I know this woman is anything but—she’s running two, soon to be three, physical therapy clinics. There’s true grit in her. No wonder Darren fell head over heels for her.

“You’re right. His death is on him. If he was aware he wasn’t keeping track of when he took meds, he should’ve written the doses down.”

“I told him to do that.” She continues to stare at the road.

I turn in my seat, with care. My thigh doesn’t protest. I reach out and stroke her arm. “He was a great guy, and he treated you like the princess you are.”

She bounces backward. “I’m hardly a princess.”

“Well, I think so for the both of us. Don’t beat yourself up anymore, okay?”

She inhales. “I think we’re here.” She turns off the road and drives up a long driveway, parking next to King and Angie, who open our doors for us.

“Welcome to Secluded Rest,” King announces.

I like the name already. The thought of having some secluded rest, away from prying eyes of all types, has appeal.

He runs down the exterior description, including the mile-long circular driveway and old-growth trees. We walk up the stairs—I slow us down, but no one seems to care—and go through a double-door entryway that opens into an oversized foyer, featuring two coat closets and a two-sided curved staircase up to the second level.

“Wow.” Jenna’s assessment isn’t wrong.

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