Page 37 of The Me I Left Behind
She could almost see the wheels turning in his head. If the kids knew, then who else? His family? The neighbors? “Not happening.”
“Then I’ll tell them.”
His expression went blank. Stone cold. “And you know what will happen if you force my hand on this, Mags?”
Oh, she knew.Punishment.
In one swift motion, he grabbed her by the neck and shoved her up against the wall. “Back off. That’s not happening. Things need to stay just the way they are with the kids. What they don’t know won’t hurt them.”
His grip was tight, constricting her airway. Immediately, she went lightheaded. Couldn’t. Breathe. Gasping…for breath.
“Fine.” She half-choked out.
He squeezed tighter and held for a moment, the back of her head and neck pressed tightly against the wall, his gaze boring into hers. She knew her face was red, could feel heat in her cheeks. Her lungs screamed for air. Her legs weakened, and she knew the only thing holding her up was him pinning her to the wall by the neck.
Then, quickly, he released her, knocking her head back against the wall. She slid to the floor. Gasping repeatedly, grabbing her throat.
“You may have just saved your life.”
“So… So, don’t…tell the kids.” She rested a hand on her throat, still leaning against the wall. Still trying to catch her breath. “But you can’t…kill me. What would the kids…think of you, then?”
Max shook his head and stomped off. “There is an easy way, Maggie. And a hard way. The one I proposed is the easy way. Quit making this difficult.”
“Tell Lilly. About us.”
He whirled back. “What?”
“Tell Lilly about us. Your family. Here. She needs…to know what she’s getting into. I’ll back off.”
“She already knows.”
“Really? Everything?”
He glared. Maggie held steadfast. He was lying. She refused to move even a fraction of an inch.
“I’ll tell her, Max, if you don’t.”
Slowly, his face broke into a wide grin. “Like you could find her.”
The doorbell rang downstairs, followed by a series of hard knocks on the front door, and shouting. Max twisted toward the sound. “Who the fucking hell?”
Maggie waited, saying nothing, until he rushed to the window and apparently spotted the patrol car. He turned back to look into her eyes. The seconds tripped by like silent heartbeats.
“Her name is Lilly Colling. She lives on Macleay Island. Do you want me to tell you her street address, too?”
Seven
Lilly Colling rushed out of her bathroom, plucked her earrings off the dresser, and paused briefly, looking out over the bay while poking the studs in her earlobes. The morning sun struck the crystal blue waters just right, sending up diamonds of sparkling light off the gentle waves. She savored the moment, then turned away and grabbed her heels.
Running a little behind.
Poppy is late, too.
She was due to show a house to a couple over on Karragarra Island at ten that morning, in roughly forty-five minutes. If she left in five, she’d have time to drive to the ferry, cross over to Karragarra, and meet the couple at the designated time. Since everything was within walking distance, she’d asked them to meet her at the ferry slip so they could stroll to the property together.
That was her usual M.O. when showing on the islands. A casual walk for a few blocks worked perfectly to set up the sale by the time they arrived at the property.
This home could go for a million plus, which, if she played her cards right and made the sale, would set her up nicely for the month. It could happen quickly, and she hoped it would.
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