Seconds after Jenna bolts inside the building that’s fifty or so yards across from where I’m standing, I shake myself out of the trance I’m in to run after her.
A total of three gunshots went off. The first two together and the last at least ten seconds later, happening at the same time Jenna made it to the entrance.
Danny is inside that building. I can’t lose him when I just found out about him.
“Sir,” the blonde, who I can only assume is another federal agent by the letters stamped on her bulletproof vest, calls from behind me. “You need to get back into Jenna’s vehicle now,” she orders.
That’s not going to happen, but I don’t bother to tell her that. She can follow, or like Jenna said, she can stay and wait for the backup that’s en route.
I’m not staying out here while Jenna goes in there alone, walking into only God knows what. If anything happens to Danny, I don’t know what I’ll do.
Yanking the door open, I practically jump inside, scanning all around. “Jenna!” I yell, pausing to listen. Sounds are vague, but I can’t make anything out except for the direction they are coming from. That’s the way I head.
Another gunshot fires, only this time it’s much louder now that I’m closer.
Malachi is the first thing I see, his body face down. I stop, taking in the sight in front of me. His back rises and then falls, so that tells me he’s breathing. Hurt, obviously, but alive. My eyes dart over, seeing another body, then I glance back over to the entryway, taking a step forward.
“Jenna!” I call, taking her and Danny in, then my eyes drop to the ground. When reality hits and I realize I’m staring at a body, at Julia unmoving and blood everywhere, I gasp, sucking air into my mouth. “Oh, my God.” My hand goes to my face, my eyes unblinking. She’s dead.
A sense of relief floods my system, but I don’t know if it’s because Danny seems to be okay or if it’s because my ex-wife is no longer part of this world. She’s gone. She has to be. I can see her open eyes from where I stand, yet there is no life residing in them.
Stepping over Malachi, I make my way to the other side of my son and drop down next to him like Jenna is on the other side. Now that I can see him, take stock of every inch, worry inches in. Danny doesn’t look as okay as I thought. His dark blue eyes are unblinking, watching Julia’s lifeless form on the ground. Blood covers his face, and I pray it’s Julia’s and not his.
Jenna has her arms wrapped around him, and when I peer down, I see cuts, blood, and marks on his wrists. My eyes widen and my breath comes in sharp. What did she do to him? Looking over, I eye her with disgust, disdain. If she wasn’t already dead, I’d kill her myself. Danny’s wrists are in worse shape than Brandon’s, like he pulled himself from his restraints.
Reaching down to the hem of my T-shirt, I yank it up and over my head. Using the material, I wipe at the blood on his face, trying to get as much off him as I can.
“I’m sorry, Danny. I’m so sorry,” I repeat, not knowing what else to say to my son. “Is he okay?” I look to Jenna, waiting for a response.
“I’m the one that killed her,” she admits, tugging Danny closer.
“I don’t care.” I shake my head, dropping my shirt, discarding it now that it’s ruined. “Is he okay?” I nod toward Danny. He is my only concern. That bitch can rot where she lays for all I care.
“He’ll be fine. Eventually.” She eases up on her hold on Danny, then releases him as she drops down on the back of her calves. That’s when I grab him, pulling him in for a hug. When he doesn’t balk, my body relaxes.
“Stay with Danny,” Jenna says. “Malachi is hurt. I need to check on him.” I nod, tightening my arms around my son as she gets up.
“It’s over,” I whisper.
I never thought I’d have to tell my son his mother was dead, and I have no idea how Brandon is going to react to that news. He already knows the things she was planning, the things she’s done . . .
Jeez, all those women. I don’t even remember half of their faces, let alone their names. I certainly don’t know how many there were. I cheated, and I knew it was wrong, even while I was doing it. It didn’t matter why or that I didn’t love Julia or that I didn’t even remember saying vows to her, cheating was wrong. Yet, I still did it, and look what happened.
Still, she was Brandon’s mother.
I’m not sad that she’s gone. I’m not upset that Jenna was the person that killed her. I’m pissed off that Brandon has to live knowing all those things his mom did. I’m furious that she wasn’t the mother I thought she was. I’m angry that I didn’t see any of this happening right under my goddamn nose, my roof.
There are so many things I have to atone for, and I don’t know if I’m even worthy of the amount of forgiveness I need not only from Jenna, but from my two boys, those women, their families.
Fuck . . .