Page 11 of The Me I Left Behind (Tuckaway Bay #4)

Six

After dinner, Maggie and Julia started sifting through the totes in their bedroom, organizing piles of papers on the floor, while the littles watched a movie in their room.

Maggie had no clue what most of the paperwork was for, or how important it was, but she kept pulling out the next one and stacking it.

Julia lowered a handful of papers to her lap. “I need to ask you something because we’ve not discussed it.”

Maggie glanced her way. “What?”

“Do you want a divorce? Is this why we are doing this?”

She felt a little stunned at the question, to be honest. “Julia, yes. I want a divorce. Max has a lover and a baby in another country. I’ve lived with a lot over the years, but I can’t live with that.

I’m hoping you will help me. Can you?” She paused, searching Julia’s eyes.

“And if you can’t, can you help me find an attorney? ”

Julia stared. “I want to help you get out of this shithole life, Maggie. You and the kids. So, yes, I can represent you. But I have to say, you know, that we started down this road once before, and you backed out. I want to make sure that a divorce is what you want. If you do, great, and I’m all over it.

But realize it’s going to be a long road, and not an easy one. You need to be up for it.”

She scanned the stacks of papers and planners and folders scattered around the room. Max’s life in boxes, and none of it included her or the kids. But that’s the way it had been for their entire marriage, right? Didn’t she, they, deserve more?

“I want a divorce, Julia. I don’t want to live like this any longer. I don’t want the kids to, either. Please do your magic. Okay?”

Julia grinned. “I am quite good at my magic, you know.”

Maggie laughed. “I’m counting on it.”

Julia picked up her stack of papers. Maggie reached for and flipped through one of Max’s planners, pausing when a yellow sticky note poked out between two pages. As soon as she read what was on the note, her heart thumped against her chest.

“Found something,” she said. “Maybe.”

“What?” Julia continued shuffling through a tote.

“A name and address. Something to hold over Max’s head?”

“Oh?”

“Umhmm.”

“And…?”

Maggie waved the note under her nose. “What do you think?”

Julia took it, reading. “Interesting. Don’t let that get lost in the shuffle.”

Maggie stared at the note for a few minutes, committing the woman’s name and Brisbane address to memory, then stuck the note to the front of the planner and set it aside.

Her phone pinged from where she’d put it on the TV stand, a notification sound she didn’t initially recognize. The security alarm?

She remembered when they had the home security system installed—that she’d had to choose a sound for the alarm notification. Something you don’t use for anything else , the installer had suggested. So you’ll know immediately when you have an intruder.

“Someone is in my house.” She would not panic. Hell. Yes, she was.

“What?” Julia stood, watching her.

Maggie snatched up the phone, retrieved the text message, and hit the link to open the video. It showed the front door, with shadows, and someone entering. “Shit!”

“Is it Max?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Then who?”

Abruptly, her phone rang. Armor Security Company. “It’s the security people,” she told Julia. “Hello?”

“Mrs. Oliver?”

“Yes?”

“Are you home?”

“No. No one is home. Is someone in my house? I got an alert.”

“It appears so, Mrs. Oliver. At eight-fourteen, someone entered the front door of your home, apparently with a key. They tried to turn off the system but were unsuccessful, so we sent the alert. I’ll send you a text with a photo image from the inside entryway. Please take a look.”

“Alright.” She waited patiently for the link to come. “Finally,” she breathed.

She clicked and saw who it was. Fuck. She forced out a breath. “I see the image. I know who it is. Please turn off the alarm.”

“No need to send anyone over?”

“No. Thank you.” Then, on second thought, she added. “Of course, if the alarm goes off again and is not reset, please investigate and alert me. I’m headed over there now. I appreciate your call.”

“Will do, and my pleasure. Good night, Mrs. Oliver.”

Maggie tossed her phone on the bed, ran her fingers through her hair, and stood there, shaking a little. “Can this day get any longer, or any more complicated?

“Is it Max?”

Maggie whirled back and flung her arms up. “Oh, hell no. It’s Carol and that dickhead date of hers. Shit.”

“Oh, hell.”

“Right.” Her brain rolled over a dozen scenarios.

“Wait,” Julia said. “What time is Max coming?”

Maggie glanced at the clock on the nightstand. “I don’t think he could get here this early, but I still need to get her out of there.”

“Call her.”

Why didn’t I think of that? “Dammit. Of course.” She snatched up her phone again and hit Carol’s name on her call list and waited. “Dammit. Voice mail.” She clicked off the phone and faced Julia. “May I borrow your SUV? I don’t like asking, but….”

“I’m not so sure that is a good idea….”

Her brain spun. She had to get over there. “Then I’ll call a cab.”

“Maggie, let them be.”

She swiveled back and glared. “Oh, hell no, Julia. Carol just went into the house with that boy, doing who knows what right now.”

“Geez, Maggie. Let them do what kids do. Would you have wanted to have been interrupted by your mother at seventeen when you were with your boyfriend? They probably just want to make out and play around a little. Let them explore.”

Good Lord, Mary Margaret Brennan, are you having sex with that boy?

A sudden flashback of her past—when she was seventeen and dating, and admittedly, already promiscuous—sped through her head. Her mother would have had a fucking heyday had she caught her in bed with a boy.

Yet, that didn’t stop me from doing it.

She glared at Julia. “I realize they are going to do what they are going to do, but… If Max comes home and finds them fucking, he will absolutely kill that young man.” She glanced at her watch.

Eight-twenty. “But there is time if I move fast. Even if he took the first flight out, he couldn’t get here by now. ”

Julia reached for her keys on the nightstand and tossed them her way.

“I’ll stay with the littles, so keep in touch.

Let me know what is going on. But get in and out of that house—Carol too—as soon as fucking possible.

Don’t linger. You got that? Get our girl home, and that boy to wherever he needs to go, and you, back here safely. ”

She made the thirty-minute drive in twenty.

Not fast enough, she was sure. A teenage boy could probably do it twice in twenty minutes. Horny little motherfuckers.

Shit. And Carol. What the hell are you fucking thinking?

Not thinking. That’s the fun of it. Right?

Approaching the house, she could see a dim light upstairs in Carol’s room, facing the street.

Dammit. Rushing to the front door, key in hand, she unlocked and opened it, the door swinging wide and inward.

The alarm beeped softly once in warning, and she quickly typed in her code and re-set the alarm—just in case.

Bounding up the stairs, she shouted. “Carol! Goddamn it! Get dressed. Get out of the house now!”

She rushed across the second-floor landing to Carol’s room and pushed the door. Locked.

“Carol!” She beat on the door.

“Mom! What?”

“Open up, Carol. Come to the fucking door now. Get dressed.”

She heard shuffling and footsteps and mumbling behind the door. Finally, Carol unlocked and cracked it open a little. Her daughter appeared to be wearing Tyler’s T-shirt. “Mom, what are you doing? This is so embarrassing.”

“Saving your ass.” She pushed the door open and caught a glimpse of Tyler’s skinny behind as he pulled up his jeans. She noted the messy bed with tangled blankets and sheets. Quickly, she glanced away and glared at Carol. “Good fucking God, I hope you had a condom.”

“Mom!”

“Listen to me. You need to get dressed and get him out of here. Your dad could be home any minute and if he finds you in this bedroom, half dressed, and with a boy in here…” She looked at Tyler again.

“Well, we don’t want to find out, but you can guaran-damn-tee that your boyfriend is going to get hurt. ”

“But M—”

The bedroom door slammed against the wall. “You sure as hell got that right. What the fuck is going on here?”

Maggie whirled back.

Carol, too. “Dad!”

Dammit! Maggie’s brain raced. How…? What to do now? She had to get the kids out of the house. Had to do… Something. “Max, what the hell are you doing here?”

He took a step toward her. “You can’t tell me you didn’t expect me, Mags.”

She wanted to smack that cocky bastard grin off his face.

She lifted her chin, squared her shoulders. “I actually expected you a bit earlier. Nice to see you, Max. We have things to talk about.”

“Yes, darling, we do.”

He turned away and raked his gaze over his daughter. “Get. Dressed.” Then, rotating to his left, he fixed a bead on Tyler. “And you get the fuck out of my daughter’s bedroom, you little cocksucker.” He took two steps toward him.

Maggie grabbed Max’s arm, trying to stop him. “Go, Tyler.”

Max flung his arm up and away from Maggie, releasing her grip on him. “Get off.”

Tyler shuffled quickly to the other side of the room, where Carol was pulling on her sweater and jeans. She tossed Tyler his T-shirt. He shrugged into it.

“Go on, kids,” she urged. “I’ll talk to you later, Carol.”

Max sneered. “Where are the other kids? They’re not in their rooms.”

“With a friend.”

“And you let Carol stay here with this cunt-craving teenage ball of testosterone?”

Carol took a step. “She didn’t know I was here, Dad. It’s my fault.”

He slowly swiveled and scowled. “I will talk to you later.”

Maggie waved her arms, hoping Carol and Tyler would just go. Leave.

Max caught her arm by the wrist, twisted it, and held tight.