Chapter 20 Glass Houses #2
My instinct tells me that isn’t it, and I don’t like the other possibilities.
Margot and the kids wait in the boat for me to bring back lunch from the cooler, so I grab the note and look it over.
Send the kids and the woman away. You’ll face your destiny alone if you’re still a man, and not just a grubby little thief.
Now we know.
My heart picks up, thundering with rage.
Our asshole stalker was never after Margot. He’s got a beef with me.
And thief? What the hell?
This must go back to the OptiSynth disaster. Nothing else I’ve done would leave anyone so irate, so willing to follow me here and raise hell.
But the kids, shit.
Margot.
I don’t know how I’m going to break the news and shatter a perfect morning.
Still, now there’s no choice. I need to get them out of here.
Back to my mother.
Away from Sully Bay.
Whoever this creepy fuckroach is, they’re not going to stop without good reason. I can’t risk putting my family in their crosshairs.
I promised we’d stay as long as I was sure they’d be safe.
Now, I’m not certain of anything.
And Margot, fuck—how do I tell her?
How do I drag her off her own property when she’s just at risk?
Every breath sears my nostrils.
I take a few tortured seconds to calm down before grabbing lunch from the trunk, raiding the cooler like an angry grizzly.
No, cool it. Let them have the lake for a couple more hours.
When we get home, I’ll break the bad news.
The second we’re back at the house and settled, I drop the bomb on the kids.
Things have changed and they’re going off to Grandma.
I’ve texted my mother, explaining the situation and why I’m sending them home. She was already on standby since Daria turned us down.
“No way!” Dan whines, folding his arms defiantly. “Dad, you said we could stay.”
“I said for now, Bud. We’re way past ‘wait and see,’” I tell him. “You know better. I don’t play around with safety.”
He opens his mouth again and closes it, twisting his lips.
“I don’t wanna go.” Sophie’s stubbornness surprises me today.
She’s normally the skittish one who shows up at my bedroom door for comfort during thunderstorms.
“I know, Soph. It’s rotten luck, but we don’t have much choice.
I’m not budging on this, guys. Hate me for now.
I’ll live, as long as you’re okay.” I start upstairs after slipping Margot that stalker’s note plus one of my own so she understands the severity.
“Let’s get your stuff packed. You’ve got a flight to catch. ”
“If it’s so dangerous, why don’t you come with? Why are you dropping us off?” Dan demands.
“Because I need to sort this out once and for all. Last thing I’ll do is let this problem follow us home,” I say, heading to his room first.
I look in and shake my head. Clothes everywhere in a messy explosion. Typical preteen boy.
Also, I need to look after Margot. If she won’t leave, neither will I.
That’s the part I don’t say.
Sophie hovers in the doorway like she can feel it. “Is Margot coming too, Daddy?”
“You’ll see her again,” I promise, walking over to hug her. “Maybe this old house someday, too. This isn’t the end. I just need to make sure no one’s being targeted.”
“But who? Won’t you tell us anything?” Dan flings his clothes on the bed, and I fold them.
“Don’t know. Still working on that part,” I say.
“Sophie? Want some help packing?” Margot offers from the hallway.
“I just… I don’t want to go!” Her little face wilts. “Tell Dad you want us to stay.”
Margot throws me a wry look. Judging by the anguish in her face, I know she understands how serious this is.
“I wish I could, honey,” she says gently. “But this time, you’d better listen to your dad. He’s doing the right thing, even if it sucks a lot right now. Come on, let me help…”
Thank you. That’s the only thing I can mouth.
Then Margot takes my daughter and leads her off to help get her stuff sorted.
The entire time I’m packing up Dan’s belongings, my phone is out, lying on top of the bed. I keep my ears peeled for any notification dings from the camera app.
With this fucker decloaking with his direct threat, I can’t afford to let my guard down.
Not for a split second.
Dan stares at his packed luggage with a frown that cuts across his face.
“I still don’t get why you’re not coming if it’s sooo dangerous,” he whines.
“Because it’s my problem. This person, they’re angry at me, and that means I need to make sure there’s nobody else in the way if this guy wants to meet and the cops can’t find him first.”
He sighs, closing his eyes.
“Well… when you’re done, can we come back?”
“We’ll see. Probably not for now, but next year? It’s possible.” I ruffle his hair. “I’m proud of you for taking it in stride. Look after your sister and grandma, okay?”
He nods glumly.
Then there’s a knock at the door, and Sophie pokes her head around the corner, a packed suitcase trailing behind her and her pink backpack slung over her shoulder.
“Where’s Margot?” I ask.
“She said she had to grab something from her room,” she says. “But she told me to tell you she’s ready.”
I scroll through my travel app for available flights.
The airport in Bar Harbor is small, just puddle jumpers and a few private planes, but I know there’s a flight out to Portland later tonight. I’ll have my mother waiting to pick them up after she flies up to Maine.
It also means a slight wait at the airport to make sure they get on the plane, but better they’re out of the house ASAP. No one will target us there.
“Come on,” I say. “Let’s go downstairs and wait for her in the living room.”
“We’re not saying goodbye,” Dan tells Margot gently. “More like ‘smell ya later.’”
Sophie cracks the weakest smile.
“Margot said the same thing,” Sophie says, wiping at her face with her cuffs. “She says she’ll see us again no matter what.”
A fresh warmth erupts in my chest, despite feeling like we’re being dragged across thorns.
It doesn’t take away the crippling fear and uncertainty, no.
But it helps.
And when we get back down to the living room to wait for Margot, so does the sight of her standing in the doorway.
She’s everything.
Even now, even after the menacing note, she’s not showing an ounce of fear. Not in front of the kids. Not with me.
It makes me want to wrap her up in my arms and never let go.
She flashes a reassuring smile before kneeling next to Sophie.
“Hey, I have something for you. I was going to work on it a little while longer, but with you guys heading out…”
“It’s cool. Really.” Sophie wipes her nose and sniffles.
Margot unlocks the iPad in her hand and tilts the screen at Sophie, showing off what looks like shoes.
They’re still clearly orthopedic, but unlike any pair I’ve ever seen in her medical supply catalog.
They’re light pink with brighter delicate flowers etched along the sides with a white stripe running through them. The color obscures the bulkiness, giving them a sleeker appearance as Margot rotates the 3D model.
“I made this for you. I mean, they’re not made-made yet, but the design’s ready,” she says.
“You can have them made to order soon. They use existing ortho shoe specs so they won’t have to go through any red tape getting them approved.
I emailed a copy to your dad for safekeeping.
We just need a manufacturer.” She darts me another look, and I flick through my emails where, sure enough, there’s an attachment from Margot. “Do you like them?”
Two big tears roll down Sophie’s face. Her lips tremble.
“Oh my God! I—yes! I… I can’t believe you made me shoes.”
She doesn’t need to say another word.
“You asked for my help, remember? I’m still no expert in orthopedic shoe design, but I can make them look pretty.”
Her face caves in with happy sobs as she throws her arms around Margot’s shoulders.
I look at the design in my hands, holding in a breath denser than fog.
Insane.
This gesture’s kinder and more motherly than anything I’ve seen Daria do in nearly a decade of phantom co-parenting. Sophie’s never had anyone go out of their way with her shoes before.
Hell, not even me, because I didn’t know how.
I don’t think Margot can fathom how huge this is.
Her eyes meet mine over Sophie’s shoulder, and I wonder.
Does she know how generous she is?
Does she get that she’s an angel who rolled off her cloud?
I fucking don’t deserve this through my huffing and puffing and emotionally stunted confusion. But Soph, she’s had this coming her whole life.
All I can do is stand there in awe, holding myself together.
“I just want you to love your shoes and love yourself,” Margot whispers, leaning back to look Sophie fully in the eyes. “And I want you to own them, okay? They’re a statement to the world. Every girl deserves a wardrobe that screams pretty.”
“Wow! But if my feet get better, can you do shoes for me then too?” Sophie asks shyly.
Margot nods and smiles.
“Of course, honey. Anytime. But let’s not keep your dad waiting, okay?”
“We’re gonna miss you,” Dan says firmly, pushing Sophie out of the way so he can steal a hug. “You staying here with Dad?”
We share another look.
That’s something else to figure out, but I let the kids get their goodbyes out first.
“Keep him from doing anything stupid,” Dan warns, and Margot laughs.
“Do you think he will?”
“You never know. He’s a tough dad but sometimes they’re too brave to know better. They bite off more than they can chew,” Dan says, so seriously I haul him back gently.
“Okay, buddy. This Neanderthal says it’s time to get in the car.”
Their faces harden as they look around the house one more time, like they’re still saying some dramatic goodbye in their heads.
I take the opportunity to pull Margot aside.
“Hey.” I take her hand, squeezing gently. “Come with us. There are extra seats on the plane. I could buy us tickets right now to go with them.”
Her brows knit together as she stares at me. “This is my house, Kane. I’m not done here. With Gramps, I’m so close.”
“I know,” I say gruffly.
“This person, they’re after you, right? The note said it.”
And I’m not sure why the fuck I should trust a monster.
I want to drag her to the vehicle and back to New York, but I have no right. This is her inheritance, her house, her life.
It isn’t my place. Especially when my presence here has gotten in her way.
“If you won’t come with us, head to Portland,” I say, almost pleading with her now.
“Just for a few days. Enough time to let the clown who left that note know we’re gone.
You read it,” I whisper. “He wants you out of the way so he can face me alone. I’ll stay here and watch the house, and wait for—”
She reaches up, grazing my jaw and silencing me.
“You, Kane,” she says, “are an adorably dumb Saint.”
“Margot—”
“I’m not leaving yet. This is my house, and I’ll stick it out until I find whatever Gramps hid behind that glass door. Maybe I’m not Army trained or whatever like you, but we have the security system, and I know this town. I’d be crazy to bow out now.”
“Just a few days. Less than a week,” I mutter.
It’s a losing battle, but I have to try.
“That’s a no from me. If you’re so determined to come back here and help before some unhinged weirdo follows you home, then so am I.”
Damn, I hate her logic.
If there’s one thing you learn in the Army, it’s knowing when to make a tactical retreat, and that time is now.
“Fine, duchess,” I growl, kissing the tip of her nose. “Stay here and check in with me. I’m coming right back.”
“I’ll be fine. It’s just a few hours,” she promises.
“Every half hour. Text me, or I’ll call the cops,” I tell her, holding her gaze until she nods. “I need to wait with them until they’re on that jet, but I’ll be back ASAP.”
She pats my cheek.
“Go,” she says. “And when you’re done, come back so we can tie this up. Everything.”
She doesn’t need to elaborate.
I don’t want to leave her, but there’s no damn choice.
The sooner I get them off to Portland, the quicker I can be back here, ready to face the storm.
“You know I will,” I whisper.
With a parting glance, I give her one last kiss.
Then I grab the kids’ luggage, lead them outside, and leave her standing in the middle of the living room, watching us from the door.