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He took a sip of his wine and looked at her. “You tricked me into leaving Daphne. You made me think you were something you’re not. So, no, Amber. I don’t think things can go back to the way they were before. If it weren’t for our son, you’d be in prison.”
She was sick of hearing about the sainted Daphne. “Daphne couldn’t stand you. She used to complain all the time that you made her skin crawl.” Daphne had never said any such thing to Amber, but it shut him up.
“What makes you think I believe a word that comes out of your mouth?”
She was making things worse. “It’s true. But I love you. Iwillwin your trust back.”
They finished their dinner in silence. Afterward, Jackson went to his office, and Amber stopped by the nursery to look in on Jackson Junior. Mrs. Wright, the nanny, was sitting in the rocking chair, reading a book. Amber had talked Jackson into hiring a live-in nanny to help with the baby. Sabine was gone. Amber didn’t need that stuck-up French slut around. Surrey still helped out on the weekends. Bunny had referred Mrs. Wright, and she’d come with excellent credentials. She was also a respectable age, and no one that Jackson would ever look at twice.
“Any problem putting him down?” Amber asked.
“No, ma’am. Drank his bottle and went right to sleep. He’s a sweet one, that one.”
Amber leaned over and planted a soft kiss on his head. He was a beautiful child, and she looked forward to the day when he’d become interesting. When he could carry on a conversation and play games instead of just lying around like a lump.
Amber got in bed and pulled out the detective novel she’d hidden in her nightstand. Close to an hour later, Jackson finally came up, and she put it away before he could see it. It had been two weeks since they’d had sex, and she was getting worried. When he slipped under the covers, she reached over and began to stroke him. He pushed her hand away.
“Not in the mood.”
She tossed and turned and finally fell asleep, still wondering how she was going to restore harmony between them.
Suddenly she couldn’t breathe. She woke up in a panic and realized he was straddling her, his hand over her nose. She pried his fingers from her face, and gasping, cried out.
“What are you doing?”
“Ah, good. You’re awake.”
He flipped the lamp on. Her eyes flew open when she saw that he was holding a gun; the same gun she’d found in Daphne’s closet all those months ago.
“Jackson! What are you doing?”
He pointed the gun at her head. “If you ever throw anything at me again, you won’t wake up the next time.”
She went to push his hand away, certain he was just playing around. “Ha, ha.”
He grabbed her wrist with his other hand. “I’m serious.”
Her mouth fell open. “What do you want?”
“Bye, Amber.”
She screamed as his finger depressed the trigger.Click. Nothing happened.
She felt something wet and realized her bladder had emptied. A look of disgust filled his face.
“You’re weak. Pissing the bed like a child.”
He jumped off, still pointing the gun at her.
“This time you get a pass. Next time you might not be so lucky.”
“I’ll call the cops.”
He laughed. “No, you won’t. They’d end up arresting you. You’re a fugitive, remember?” He pointed to the bed. “Get up and change the sheets.”
“Can I take a shower first?”
“No.”