Page 32 of Lethal Weakness

“How about I take my daughter?” He threatens.

“You can’t have her.”

“Yeah? Says who?”

“Me! Her mother!”

“Don’t walk away from me, Linden. Linden!” He yells, the sound disappearing as he leaves the hallway.

I don’t hesitate, cracking the door open and diving back into the parlor across the hall. I pick their voices back up on the other side of the room, through the other door.

“The only reason this divorce isn’t final is because your parents keep blocking it, but as far as you should be concerned, we’re done. Over. You are never coming near me again, and if I can help it, you won’t come near Avery either.”

“Big threats coming from someone like you.”

“What does that mean?”

“You aren’t going anywhere, Linden. You’re at our mercy. As far as I’m concerned, you are still my wife. You belong to me.”

Tendrils of hot rage curl up my neck. No one gets to talk to her that way, and she definitely doesn’t belong to him.

She doesn’t belong to me either.

My back hits the door silently as I stare into the dark room. There’s a grand piano in one corner and bookshelves lining the walls. Above two ornamental chairs is a portrait of Avery hanging on the wall.

She looks a little old for her age, but it’s an oil painting. The blonde hair and green eyes are unmistakably hers, though.

When all is quiet and I assume Linden got away from the prick, I slide through the rest of the house, back to my evac point. The terrace near Edmund Scott’s office is the easiest access point, but just before I get there, voices return.

I duck into a dark corner and go still.

“Leave me alone, Turner. I’m getting Avery, and we’re leaving.”

“Tell me where you’re living.”

“No.” She’s coming closer, and he’s right behind her.

“I know it isn’t far. I’ll find you.”

Linden stops in her tracks, and right where she is standing, a mirror on the wall reflects her grief-stricken face. But if I can see her, that means…

Her eyes lift on their own, gazing into the mirror at the end of the hallway. I know the moment she depicts my shape in the dark reflection of the mirror.

Turner Scott is behind her, but he can’t see what she sees. A man in a mask, deep within the shadows.

I raise my hand, putting one finger to my covered mouth, begging her instinct to scream to lie dormant. She doesn’t know who I am under the mask. She owes me nothing.

Her stare intensifies as she looks at me, looking at her. Her head even tilts slightly as if she wants a better angle, but then she stops and her entire posture changes.

This is it, this is when she calls for help…

But she only blinks a few times and turns away, leaving my line of sight. “You probably will find me, Turner. Your mother will bend to your request soon enough and give up my address, but I am asking you to stay away. Your daughter doesn’t need to see how you treat me. So if you want to smack me around, do it right here and get it over with. Right now.”

There’s a brief moment of silence, and all I can hear is my ragged breathing. What the fuck did she just say?

“If not, leave me alone because I do not belong to you. I never have. She’ll visit your parents. That’s the agreement.”

This time I hear her shoes clicking as she stomps away, and the hollowness in my gut grows the farther she gets.