16
Jack was halfway across the Queensboro Bridge when his phone rang. He checked the ID and hit TALK when he recognized the number: Christy. What a relief.
"Where've you been, lady? I've been calling all day."
"I know. I just got your message. Sorry. I've been out on the beach at Montauk."
What had she been doing way out on the eastern tip of Long Island?
"Not exactly swimming weather."
"No, but this time of year it's a good place to be alone and do some thinking. And as you well know, I've got a lot to think about."
Jack chewed a lip and thought, Not nearly as much as you'll have after you hear the latest.
"So you turned off your phone?"
"Of course not. What if Dawn needed to reach me? No, the battery ran out. I forgot to charge it. I'm so scattered lately. I guess I didn't hear the warning beeps over the surf. I sat on the beach and stared at the ocean, walked up and down the waterline, found a fish place and had fried clams for lunch. When I checked it and found it dead it took me a while to get back to the car. Got it plugged into the charger now."
"Come to any decisions?"
"Well, the big question was, What do I do next? What should I do next? Should I do anything? Dawn's eighteen, which means she's an adult in the eyes of the law. She can make her own decisions and I have no legal right to interfere. So should I just back off and wait till this whole tawdry affair falls to pieces—as it must—and she comes back home?"
Fall to pieces? Jack knew Bolton wasn't about to let that happen—at least not until his baby was born.
"T can't see you going for that."
"Damn right. 1 couldn't. Dawn may be eighteen, but she's only eighteen. She may be legal, but she's still just a kid inside." Her voice rose. "I can't stand it! And I can't stand by and watch her ruin her life! I've got to keep trying, I've got to find some way to make this right!"
Jack clenched his teeth. He was just a quarter mile from Gia's place—warm smiles and hugs from his two ladies. If he was smart he'd wait till tomorrow to break the news. But he heard the pain in her voice, the naked need to save her daughter.
What he had to tell her might very well break up Dawn and Bolton for good, but it would be a live grenade dropped into the heart of her life.
Christy, the man who raped you every day for weeks and weeks is the same man who has made your daughter—yours and his—pregnant.
How was he going to look her in the eyes and force those words past his lips?
But she had to know. She had a right to know. Because she'd asked him to learn whatever he could about the man bedding her daughter, and this was what he'd discovered.
Jack decided then that he wanted—needed—to get this over with, to remove this burden of truth and send it home. Tonight.
"Maybe I've found that way."
Eagerness crowded her words. "You have? What? What?"
"It's not for the phone."
"Come on, Jack. Please?"
"Trust me." He thought of the copies of Levy's printouts in his pocket. "This needs show as well as tell."
"Okay, then. I'm about an hour from home. Where can we meet?"
"Your place is as good as any."
"But I thought you didn't want to be seen with me."
"He's on to me, so it doesn't matter anymore."
"I can be there in an hour—maybe less if I hurry."
Jack had reached the end of the bridge and began looking for a way to get back on the Queens-bound lanes.
"All right. I'm on my way."
"Hurry. I can't wait."
Yes, you can, he thought. You'll wish you'd waited forever.