The Perfect Husband - Lisa Gardner [116]
“No!”
“And he told me I was a liar and gave me detention for spreading rumors. The colonel beat me so hard, I couldn’t sit for a week, and you wouldn’t even talk to me. I had no idea what he’d told you or why no one ever believed me. Why someone like Snake didn’t come at night and save us.”
“Damn you, damn you, damn you.”
“I hated him, Marion. But I never hated you. You were the only good part of my childhood. The only person who gave me hope. The only one I loved.”
“Shut up!” The tears escaped and trickled down her cheeks. He wanted so badly to touch her. He wanted to wipe away her tears and hold her close, because he could feel the tears in his own eyes and the rage that never quite went away because so much had been taken from them and they couldn’t get it back. Now there was only emptiness and rage and an unbelievable hurt he’d never known how to mend.
“I don’t want to hear any more!” she whispered brokenly. As he stared at her, she drew the cigarette back up to her lips with a hand that shook so badly, it took her three times to actually thrust the cigarette between her teeth.
“Marion,” he said urgently, “we have to talk about this.”
“I . . . I can’t.”
“Merry Berry—”
She leaned over, her blue eyes desperate and pleading. “Jordan Terrance, if you ever loved me, then you will swear to me now that you will never bring up Daddy again. Swear to me!”
He shook his head.
“Swear to me!” she demanded fiercely.
“And that will make it go away?”
“Swear!”
He shook his head again. It didn’t deter her. He pleaded with her. It didn’t matter. She was adamant, and he felt too much guilt to fight her. She won. “All right, Marion. All right.”
She released her breath, leaning back with a shaky sigh.
“I’m not like you,” she said at last. “You did the right thing, J.T. Leaving him. Hating him so purely. I . . . I can’t. It’s all twisted inside me and . . . I can’t make head or tail of any of it. I used to think I was so strong, but maybe I’m not strong at all. Maybe I just can’t handle it.”
“You’ve made it this far. Talk to me. Trust me that much—”
Her head turned slightly. Her eyes were filled with guilt and anger and pain. He began to understand just how much he’d failed her all those years ago.
Oh, God. “Marion . . .”
She looked away. He heard the sound of Tess’s footsteps behind them, and with a blink of an eye Marion’s expression shuttered. His sister was gone and only the cold, composed FBI agent remained. They’d grown up in a household filled with masks and where everyone was a quick-change artist. Some habits couldn’t be broken.
“You swore,” Marion reminded him under her breath. “I’ll hold you to your word.”
Tess arrived at the table. She stated without preamble, “I have a plan.”
She planted her hands on the table. “We’ll take it back to where it all started. Williamstown, the old house. We’re going to give Jim what he wants more than anything. We’re going to give him a second shot at killing me.”
TWENTY-FOUR
MR. DILLON, THIS is going to hurt a bit.” “No kidding.” The doctor gripped the fingers of J.T.’s injured hand and tugged hard. Tess heard the grind, then crack, as the bone snapped into place. J.T. paled, the pain blinding, but he didn’t say anything. His eyes remained expressionless on the far wall as Tess winced for him.
The doctor finished inspecting the freshly aligned bone while Tess and Marion waited in metal chairs. Marion wouldn’t look at her brother. She stared at everything else in the tiny room—the mechanical bed, the tray of tools, the X ray of his left arm lit up on the wall, the countertop covered with swabs, tongue depressors, and a blood pressure cuff. When the doctor forcefully aligned her brother’s arm, Marion flinched. Otherwise she sat quiet and motionless, as if she weren’t even in the room.
Tess recognized the signs. Marion felt her brother’s pain and resolutely shut it out. J.T. felt his pain and her pain and resolutely shut them both out. Tess