Chapter 29 #3
“I don’t think he cares enough to keep looking anymore,” John said, and he set the firewood down by the potbelly stove. “Why don’t you two get a fire going so I can get your mother?”
Sydney and Blake started stacking the wood, and John walked to the back, where he found Maggie resting.
After the incident with Dillon, they had managed to get Maggie some professional medical care.
Thankfully, the gunshot had not damaged any of her organs, as they had previously feared.
The bullet only missed her kidneys by less than an inch, but there was no significant damage the doctors could find.
“Hey,” John said, gently waking Maggie up. “Do you think you are ready for some dinner?”
Maggie stretched a little and yawned. “Yeah, I could eat. How long was I asleep?”
“Not too long,” John said, and he brushed his fingers through her hair.
Maggie frowned. “What’s wrong?”
John had never been good at keeping things from his wife. She had always said John had the worst poker face in the history of mankind. He couldn’t dispute that.
“Agent Parker swung by,” John answered. “He asked about the money.”
“Did he say anything specific?” Maggie asked.
John shook his head. “No, nothing like that. He might think we took some of it, but I don’t believe he’s ever going to say anything. He probably thinks we kept it for ourselves.”
Maggie squeezed John’s hand. “It was good giving that money to Jake’s sister. She needed the help.”
After all the chaos of the EMP had died down, John was the one who had broken the news to Jake’s sister about his death.
Jake had supported his sister and her family financially, and with Jake gone, John didn’t want them to struggle.
And John didn’t think the bank would miss a few hundred thousand after getting back all of their millions, especially for such a good cause.
“We did the right thing giving them some money,” Maggie said.
“I know,” John said.
Maggie tilted her head to the side. “What else is bothering you?”
John wasn’t sure if he should speak his mind. After everything they had escaped, it seemed as though they had dodged a bullet, and John didn’t want to dig up the past, especially when it was still so fresh.
“Did it make you feel better?” John asked. “Killing Dillon?”
“I didn’t take any joy in it,” Maggie answered. “But if you’re asking me if I am breathing easier now that I know he’s dead and our family is safe, then yes. And I would do it all over again if I had to.”
John nodded. “Even after everything he’d done, what he’d said, I still don’t know if I could have pulled the trigger.”
Maggie reached for John’s face and gently caressed his cheek. “Do you remember our first date together?”
“I do,” John answered.
“And do you remember those guys who kept harassing us when we were at the bar?” Maggie asked.
“Yes,” John answered. “They were very annoying.”
“They were assholes,” Maggie said. “But you never let them get to you. But the moment they said something inappropriate to me, I saw your face change. And I remember how you calmly stood up and walked over to their table. I never heard what you said, but when you walked away, I saw the look of fear on their faces. They never said a word the rest of the night.”
“They just needed straightening out,” John said.
“I know,” Maggie said. “And I knew right then and there that you were no coward, but you weren’t violent, either.
You’ve never been that kind of man, John, and that’s the reason I married you.
You and I, we’ve always done what the other can’t do.
That’s why I squeezed the trigger. It was my turn to stand up and straighten things out. ”
John smiled. “Remind me to never let you get mad at me.”
“Don’t forget it,” Maggie said.
The pair kissed, and then Sydney and Blake hollered that they had the fire going.
“I’ll get dinner ready,” John said, standing up.
“I’ll come help,” Maggie said.
“The doctor said you needed to rest,” John replied.
Maggie flipped the covers off of her and swung her legs out. She reached for John’s hand to help her up and then stood. “I’m fine. And the doctor also said it was good for me to move around when I was feeling better. And I feel better.”
John escorted his wife into the kitchen, and together, they started preparing dinner.
It was nothing fancy. They were making spaghetti with a salad and some homemade bread.
But as John chopped some peppers, he was unable to wipe the smile from his face.
This was the kind of life he had always wanted—being with his family and spending as much time with them as he could.
This was a life that a man like Dillon Elliot could never understand or appreciate. But it was a life that John craved, and he would always fight to keep it.
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