Chapter 33
Chapter Thirty-Three
Laurel
Morgan and I sat in her car, which was parked across from the apartment building, where the phone signal pinged off the tower.
“Now what?” I asked. “How will we find out which apartment this guy is in?”
“You’ll see.” She typed the number that called me earlier into her laptop. The person on the other end answered the call but didn’t speak. “Hello,” Morgan said in an accent to disguise her voice. “Hello, is anyone there?” Click. He hung up. “Got it. He’s in apartment 3C. Let’s go.”
“How are we going to get into the building? The door is locked, and we don’t have a key,” I said.
“Who needs a key?” Morgan smirked as she picked the lock and opened the door.
We took the stairs up to apartment 3C. Morgan knocked on the door.
“Maintenance. We received a report of water leaking from the apartment above,” Morgan disguised her voice as a man’s.
The door opened. My heart raced out of my chest, my eyes widened, and my body became paralyzed as I stared at the man standing on the other side of the door. Morgan kicked it open, pulled her gun from her back, and pointed it at him. I couldn’t speak. I was in shock.
“You better start explaining why you’re stalking my friend,” she said as we stepped inside.
“Laurel.”
“Jason?” My brows furrowed.
“Jason?” Morgan’s eyes widened. “As in your husband who died in a kayaking accident?”
“How is this possible?” Tears streamed down my face.
“God, it’s so good to see you again finally, baby” he said, taking a step forward.
I immediately backed away.
“It’s okay, Morgan. You can put the gun away,” I said.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah.” I stared at my supposed dead husband, praying I’d fallen asleep and this was just a dream.
“We need to talk, Laurel,” Jason said.
The tears dried up the longer I stared at him, and anger took over. Explosive anger that scared me.
“You’re supposed to be dead,” I said.
“I know. I’m so sorry for what I put you and our girls through. Please, let me explain. Let's talk privately.”
“No. No way.” I shook my head. “Morgan is staying!” I shouted.
“Fine.” He put his hands up. “Let’s sit down.” He gestured.
“You faked your own death?” Morgan asked, cocking her head.
“Why would you do that, Jason? How could you do that to us? My God. Do you have any idea what you put the girls and me through?”
“I know it must have been hard, and I’m so sorry.” He placed his face in his hands. “I felt so trapped. I couldn’t breathe anymore, Laurel,” his voice cracked. “Every morning, I’d wake up feeling like I was drowning. The mortgage, the kids, our marriage, our debt, the expectations. It was all too much. Everything with us happened so fast.”
“So, instead of telling me how you felt, you faked a kayaking accident to escape from us? We mourned you! Your daughters cried themselves to sleep for months!” I shouted, standing from the couch.
“I wanted a different life, or I thought I did! But these last two years of freedom had slowly turned into a different kind of prison. I missed you and the girls too much. So much, that the pain was unbearable at times. So, I returned to North Carolina and discovered you moved to San Francisco. When I went to San Francisco, I spoke to your old boss. I told him I was your husband’s brother and I needed to get in touch with you. That’s when he told me you moved to Los Angeles and worked at The Hamilton Group.”
“What about the phone calls and the flowers?” I shouted.
“I had to hear your voice. I had every intention of speaking when you’d answer, and I did once, remember? But I was too afraid.”
“You were at the girl’s school, weren’t you?”
He lowered his head. “Yes. I had to see them. But I made sure they couldn’t recognize me.”
“Well, guess what, asshole? Sophie recognized you. She told me she saw you. She was fucking frightened, Jason!”
“I’m sorry, Laurel.” He looked up at me as I stood over him .
“What the hell did you think you’d accomplish by finding me? Did you think I would understand and take you back? Did you think I would tell you that it was okay that you faked your death and the girls and I would welcome you back from the dead with open arms? Answer me?” I screamed in his face.
“I was hoping you’d forgive me, and we could go back to the way things were.”
“Ha.” Morgan laughed. “Why are men so delusional? They really don’t give us women enough credit.”
“You know what, Jason? You belong in a mental institution. Was Brendan a part of your plan? He knew all along you faked your death?”
“No. Brendan doesn’t know. I didn’t want him involved. He has no idea I’m alive.”
“Thank God for that because I’d hate for him to share a prison cell with you,” I said.
“Prison?” His brows furrowed. “Faking your own death isn’t illegal, Laurel.”
“No, it’s not, you idiot. But everything that went along with faking your own death is. It’s fraud, deception, and lying to the police, not to mention all the resources they used looking for your fucking body!” I shouted. “Trust me. I could make sure you go away for a very long time.”
“God, Laurel. No. Please, don’t say that. I found you because I love you.”
“You have no idea what love is, you pathetic piece of shit.” I folded my arms and shook my head.
My phone rang. Pulling it from my pocket, I saw it was Julian. I immediately declined the call.
“Was that him? The man you’ve been seeing?” Jason asked.
“That isn’t any of your business. Where have you been the past two years? ”
“Different states, never able to find my footing. I made a huge mistake, Laurel, and I’m so sorry. Please, baby?—”
“Don’t you ever call me that again.” I sat on the couch beside Morgan and placed my face in my hands. She reached over and softly rubbed my back.
“Do you want him in your life?” Morgan whispered, and I shook my head.
“You have two options, Jason,” Morgan said. “I can get you a new identity and passport so you can find some other country to fraud, or Laurel will call the North Carolina police and inform them you’re alive. Then you’ll go to prison. Take your pick.”
“No, I can’t do that. I want to be with my wife and daughters,” he said.
“I am not your wife!” I shouted. “And you lost your daughters the day you faked your death. I can promise you that you will never see them again, so you better take Morgan up on her offer to get you out of the country, or you’re going to prison. The girls will never know about this, Jason. They will continue to live their lives believing their father died in a kayaking accident.”
“Please, Laurel. Don’t do this.” Tears fell from his eyes.
“You did this when you decided you wanted your freedom.” I stood up and grabbed my purse. “Morgan, let’s go.”
“Well, Jason, what’s it going to be? I can have a new identity ready for you tomorrow.”
“Fine. I’ll take it and leave the country because there’s no way I’m going to prison.”
“I’ve got news for you, Jason.” I got in his face. “The rest of your life will be like a prison, and if I ever hear one word from you again, I’ll make sure there’s a pretty little prison cell with your name on it. That also goes if you try to contact the girls. You’ve been dead to us for over two years, and you’re still dead to us. Do yourself a favor and get yourself cleaned up. You look like a homeless person.” I opened the door and stormed out.
I climbed into Morgan’s car. My chest tightened like a steel band was wrapped around it, pulling tighter with every breath. I couldn’t breathe. The air felt very thick, and it felt like I was drowning as I gasped for air. My heart slammed against my ribs. I pressed my hand onto it, thinking it would help slow it down.
“Breathe, Laurel. You’re having a panic attack.”
My stomach twisted, and sweat formed on the back of my neck, even though I felt extremely cold.
“Long, deep breaths,” Morgan said, softly rubbing my back. “Just focus on my hand rubbing your back, nothing else.”
I could feel my lungs opening as it became easier to breathe. My heart rate began to slow, and a feeling of fatigue washed over me.
“I need to go home,” I told her as I opened the car door and vomited on the concrete.
“That’s exactly where I’m taking you. I will pick up the girls from school and take them home with me. I’ll tell them you aren’t feeling well and bring them home later.”
“Thank you, Morgan.” I lay my head on her shoulder.
“Don’t mention it, sweetie.”