Chapter 12
After the video call ended, Jules wasn’t sure what to do with herself. For the past week, she’d been lounging around, watching TV, feeling sorry for herself, and eating copious amounts of ice cream. But that routine didn’t work with Brock here. It was impossible to wallow when the object of her frustration was in the same house.
Luke had darted out, saying he was going to Steve Randall’s workplace to question his boss and coworkers, hoping for some clue as to where the man might’ve gone. Brock was coordinating with her dad to schedule repairs on the shattered window from the tree damage. Also, he was putting in a call to the PI to instruct him to look into Dean Powell.
Nikki was out on the front porch with her computer, diving headfirst into party-planning mode. Jules could’ve joined her, she supposed, but the last thing she wanted to think about right now was centerpieces or cupcake flavors.
Finally, unsure what else to do, she decided to brave the stairs and retreat to the guest bedroom. She hadn’t ventured upstairs since the accident. The effort was too exhausting on crutches, but she needed solitude … and she needed to wean herself off of the crutches. No time like the present. Brock offered to help, but she waved him off, insisting she could manage.
The climb was slow and arduous, but she made it. Of course, her heart was pounding wildly, and she felt like her head would explode, but that was beside the point. Once upstairs, she sank onto the bed and watched a few minutes of a show on her phone. Eventually, she closed her eyes and drifted off into a restless sleep. Remnants from her nightmare the night before came echoing back. She saw a man coming towards her. She saw the flicker of metal as terror engulfed her. Something about Steve’s feet, shoes, or maybe it was his gait, kept circling through her mind—some detail she couldn’t pin down. But she felt that it was important.
When she awoke, she made her way back downstairs.
Brock’s voice drifted from the kitchen. Curious, she hobbled closer and paused in the doorway. His phone was propped up on the counter. On the screen was the face of a young boy—Trevor.
“Dad, I miss you so much.” Trevor’s voice was thick with emotion. His red-rimmed eyes made it obvious that he'd been crying. “When are you coming home?”
“I miss you too, buddy,” Brock said gently. “I'm on an assignment right now, but you can call me anytime.”
“It’s not the same,” Trevor moaned. “Mom said you were coming home tomorrow. She said we could go out for pizza and ice cream.”
Brock's voice tensed. “I never said that. Trev, I didn’t make that promise.”
“But Mom said it,” Trevor cried. “She said you were moving back in.”
Jules took a snapshot of the tight set of Brock’s broad shoulders. She could feel his anguish as if it were her own.
“Trevor, I’ll always be there for you. When I get back, we’ll go and get that pizza, okay? The biggest one you’ve ever seen.”
Trevor sniffled. “Why did you lie to Mom? Why won’t you come home?”
“I didn’t lie. I would never lie to you. I love you, son.”
“I love you too,” Trevor huffed.
“Can I talk to your mom now?”
There was shuffling on the screen. A moment later, a woman appeared. She had luminous dark eyes, cascading dark hair, and a flawless complexion. Jules swallowed hard. It cut to know that Brock’s ex-wife was so stunning.
“Why did you tell Trevor that I was coming home tomorrow?” Brock's tone was clipped and cold. “You know that’s a bald-faced lie.”
Adrian’s voice quivered. “Why are you attacking me? I just want you to come home. Is that too much to ask?”
“Adrian, first, you lied about Trevor bullying kids at school. Now this? What’re you trying to pull?”
“We need you,” she said plaintively. “I need you.”
“Adrian, no. That’s not happening. I can’t do this again.”
“Is it because of her?” Adrian spat. “You’re with her, aren’t you?”
Jules flinched at the accusation.
Brock raked a hand through his hair. “This isn't about Jules.”
“Of course it is,” she raged. “I’ll bet she’s pretending to be in danger. What a home-wrecker.” Disgust marred her beautiful face.
Jules’s spine stiffened.
“She’s not pretending,” Brock snapped. “She was in a car accident. Her life is at risk.”
“You never could resist playing the hero,” Adrian spat.
“Enough,” Brock growled.
“What happens when the danger’s over? Are you going to stay there and play house with her while your son begs for you to come home?”
Jules felt like her entire body was under siege by a swarm of bees. This woman was so mean and spiteful.
Brock took in a breath. When he spoke, his voice was surprisingly calm. “Trev is my son, and I’ll always be there for him. But you and I are over. We were over a year ago, and that’s how it’s gonna stay.”
Adrian’s eyes shimmered. “But I love you.”
“Adrian, when we were together, you treated me like dirt.”
“I’m sorry,” she cried. “I’ve told you that over and over. Can’t you just give us one more chance?” Her lower lip trembled. “I’m begging you.”
“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” Brock said with a note of finality.
Adrian’s voice grew sharp. “Tell me the truth—what is Jules to you?”
Behind him, Jules inhaled sharply. Brock turned and saw her. Their eyes locked. His anguished expression tore at her. For the first time since he’d broken up with her, Jules got an inkling of the torture Brock had been going through.
“Is she there?” Adrian hissed. “Put the home-wrecker on the phone!”
Something in Jules’s mind tore loose. Before she realized what was happening, her feet shuffled forward. She stepped up beside Brock, ready to fight. “I hear you have something to say to me.”
Surprise flicked in Adrian’s eyes, but it only took her a second to recover. “You have no right to come between me and my husband.”
Jules met her glare full-on. “You and Brock are no longer married.”
Adrian scoffed. “That doesn’t change the fact that you’re destroying my family. I hate you,” she seethed.
Before Jules could launch a rebuttal, Brock placed a hand on her arm. “Don’t get in the mud with her. It’s not worth it.”
Reflexively, Jules pushed his hand away. “I’ll be the judge of that.” She looked Adrian squarely in the eyes. “Any woman who would lie to her child just to manipulate her ex is the real home-wrecker. No wonder Brock left you.”
Adrian gasped. “How dare you?”
Brock intervened with a firm, “That’s enough.” He looked at the screen. “Stop telling Trevor I said things that I didn’t. Trying to turn him against me will only hurt him. Think about your son for once and what he needs instead of yourself.”
Adrian crossed her arms, a spiteful grin wrapping her lips. “I’m not doing you any favors. You made your bed, now you can lie in it.” She clicked off the call.
Brock turned on Jules, his expression thunderous. “Why did you do that?”
“Do what?” she demanded. “She’s the one who attacked me.”
“Yeah, and you poured gasoline on the fire. You know she’s unstable.”
“Yeah,” Jules said hotly. “I kind of picked up on that. And for the record, I’m not a home-wrecker.”
He held up his hands in weary frustration. “I never said you were.”
She got up in his face, still stinging from Adrian’s hateful accusations. “You and I are no longer together, so Adrian doesn’t have to worry about me getting in the way of anything.”
He tightened his jaw, dark eyes flashing with both hurt and fury. “I got that loud and clear.”
She lifted her chin. “Good. I’m glad we got that established.” With that, she turned and hobbled out of the room, her teeth clenched.
What a horrible, horrible woman!
Her heart ached for Brock, for Trevor, and for herself.