“Unemployed at the moment.”
Jack grunted, shifting in the driver's seat. “From everything I'm seeing, he doesn't sound like the type to let go of his woman and son so easily.”
His son?
The blood in my veins froze.
Chris’ son?
All the animosity I felt drained like a torrent as if someone had pulled a huge plug in my heart.
My stomach flipped. The pads of my fingers came to my lips—holding back a surge of panic welling in me.
What was Jack talking about?
Kacey wasnotChris' son.
But Jack knew that.
Didn't he?
Blood rushed from my face. A light-headed sensation skittered across my nerve endings and my heart jumped to my throat. I couldn’t swallow. Couldn’t breathe. Could hardly think.
He does know that? Doesn’t he?
For the first time since I’d walked into the meeting, I looked—really looked—-at Jack’s face. His dark brows were furrowed with deep thought while his eyes scanned the roadway. He shot me a fleeting, curious glance. The lines etched across his forehead were concerned, inquisitive. The hardness I expected to see there was nowhere to be found.
It was as clear as day. Jack didn’t know.
“Kacey isn't Chris’—” The words escaped on a breath.
“Chris? That’s your ex’s name?”
I think I nodded. My soul felt distant from my body as shock radiated through my limbs.
Jack continued as if my entire life and existence hadn’t just shattered into oblivion. “Oh, I just assumed."
Every defense I’d erected for my heart crumbled. My entire reality—everything I’d clung to—took flames. For four years, I thought he knew. I thought he moved on.
Inhale. Inhale.
“Who's his dad? I mean, is he still in the picture? Someone you could go to?”
My gut twisted so hard bile filled mythroat.
How did he not know the answer to that question?
I felt more than heard myself murmur as a buzzing sound crowded out my thoughts. “Jack, please. You have to stop the truck...”
He must've caught the message because a second later rumble strips on the side of the road jolted me.
My fingers reached for the door handle, and I stumbled out onto the shoulder of the road, dry heaving.
Then
The warm air inside the Nashville Police Department made my pores tingle, and I pulled my oversized rain coat tighter around me. Lots of the people here knew who I was. Jack had been there eight years. Long enough to gain some seniority. Long enough to have dragged me out to countless parties and gatherings.
The raincoat was way overkill. It was only drizzling, but I was thankful for the bit of weather providing an excuse to cover up and hide from prying eyes. We could’ve talked in a safer place, but Jack brought this public-ish confrontation on himself.
