A dozen times I pick up the phone to call Jack. A dozen times I stare at the screen, my thumb hovering over the call button.
Eleven times I put the phone down, too scared to make the call. I guess the twelfth time's a charm.
The phone rings and rings until I'm sure it's going to go to voice mail, but at the last minute he picks up.
I clear my throat, finding the voice that feels like it's buried. "Jack?" I croak "It's Scarlet."
He's quiet for a heartbeat. Then he says, "One moment", and for that one moment my heart beats so hard I think I'm going to be sick. I contemplate hanging up. I hear his muffled voice across the phone line, that deep timbre, the dominant, authoritative quality to his words. I don't hang up. I take a deep breath and I stay on the line.
"You still there?"
"I'm here."
My hands shake.
He's quiet again. Waiting. "Tell me what I want to hear," he says.
My mouth opens but nothing comes out.
I'm not ready. I need more time.
But there is no more time. I'm just wading in the deeper water, waiting for something. For someone.
I bite the inside of my cheek, willing whatever courage I have to appear.
"I'm ready."
My voice sounds weak, even to me.
"Have you really thought about it?" asks Jack. "What this means?"
My inhale is ragged, air sucked over emotions ready to spill. I know all too well what leaving means - I've been unable to think about anything else since I tore open the letter from Harry.
"It means a new start," I answer quietly. "A new life."
"It means leaving it all behind, Scarlet. Everything."
I close my eyes against the tears that push painfully against the back of my eyes. "I know."
Jack is quiet for a moment, but I can tell it's because he's giving me some space.
"Can you be ready in a week?" he asks after a minute.
I look around at the apartment. My tiny world. At the boy that my tiny, fucked up world revolves around.
"Give me two."
But, as it has want to, the world has other plans for me.
Four days later Jack calls. "Where are you? Are you at home?"
He sounds concerned. As close to frantic as Jack can get.
"I was just about to take Cody to the park, why?"
"Someone identified Harry from the surveillance video. The police have issued a warrant for his arrest."
"Oh my god."
"I've already had the boys at the garage call. The police turned up this morning looking for him. Turned the place upside down looking for his address."
"They won't find him though, right? He's not here, he's...safe?"
"He's safe. But, Scarlet, the police are going to make the connection between the two of you. It's only a matter of time."
"You think they'll come here? That they'll think I had something to do with Nick's death?"
"I'd be surprised if they didn't already."
Bile rises in my throat and my vision starts to swim. "What do I do, Jack? I can't... what if they arrest me?"
It feels like my lungs are filling with water. My legs are shaking so hard I can barely stand, but at the same time I can't move, I'm stuck to the spot.
"I won't let that happen," assures Jack. "But I need you to pack your things. Now."
"You want me to leave?"
"If you have a better idea i'm all ears."
My stomach twists painfully, and try as I might I can't seem to think of a single thing, let alone a better plan than run.
"Scarlet?"
"How long do you need?"
Jack breathes what I can only assume is a sigh of relief. "Half an hour."
Half an hour to pack up our life. It's not enough time. It's not quick enough. For all I know the police could be downstairs right now.
"I'll be waiting downstairs."
Thirty-five minutes later I have a bag packed with essentials, and Cody dressed and ready to go. I slip the envelope with my last check from the diner into my pocket. "Got your bag?"
Cody shoulders the Spiderman backpack, hands wrapped around the straps. "Yup. Got it."
"And did you get your nightlight like I asked?"
He nods again, jiggling the backpack. "I put it safe in my bag."
"Okay," I say, reaching out for him. "Quick. Let's go."
I take Cody's hand in mine, careful not to squeeze too hard. I'm trying my best to keep calm for him, but every noise, every footstep outside the door has me on edge. I spend every minute of the half an hour expecting the police to show up at my door.
And now, with our lives stuffed into backpacks, I'm standing in my shitty living room, my heart racing at a mile a minute, and it all comes crashing down on me.
Leaving this apartment means leaving behind the last link to Harry that I have. This stupid, ugly, smelly apartment is so filled with memories of him that leaving it all behind feels like letting him go. And no matter what's happened, I'm not ready to do that yet.
But now I have no choice. Stay, and face the police about Harry's hand in Nick's death, or run.
As cowardly as it might be, I choose to run. Because regardless of the choices i've made in my life, Cody deserves better. And so that's what i'm going to give him.
One last time, Cody and I head down the crooked, creaky stairs, past the apartment on the second floor where the couple argue every night, past the bank of elevators that have never, and probably will never, work.
I leave a simple note for Neda and Amun-a thank you for being the closest thing to family I've had in years.
How inadequate the words feel. I make a mental note to send them something later.
Jack's car is idling at the front door when we emerge into the morning sun.
"Should I follow in my truck?"
"It's too distinctive. The truck will have to stay," says Jack with a frown. "I'm sorry."
Quicker than I ever thought possible, especially since car seats are such a pain in the ass, I move Cody's seat from my truck to Jack's car. Cody sits in the tray while Jack cleans everything from inside, every receipt, every note, every shopping list.
As soon as he's satisfied, we toss our things into the trunk of the BMW, and within seconds of getting buckled in we're roaring out of the apartment complex. Cody and I watch as the city skyline rolls away in the window behind us. In the space of just minutes it's nothing but a bad memory - a dot on the horizon, a picture in the rearview mirror as we drive away.
It's not until we've well and truly cleared the outskirts of the city that my heart finally begins to slow it's rapid pace. I release my hands from where they sit, clenched tightly in my lap. My fingers ache and my palms are sweaty. I rub them over my legs, trying to work a little feeling back into them.
"Where we going, Momma?" asks Cody from the backseat.
I turn to Jack. He shakes his head ever so lightly.
"We're going on an adventure," I say, turning to smile back at Cody. "Kind of like explorers do."
"Splorers?"
"We'll go somewhere you've never been before."
"Have you been there afore?"
"No. So we'll be explorers together."
"Will it be fun there? Like at the playground?"
"It'll be fun," I say, reaching over the centre console to pat his leg gently. "I promise. You just have to sit tight for a while, okay?"
I help him load up and settle in with his portable video player, and hand him back a pack of raisins, the only thing I have rattling around in my handbag that will keep him satisfied for a little while.
Turning back in my seat, I shuck my shoes off and pull my knees up to my chest. "Can you tell me where we're going?" I whisper.
Eyeing my feet that rest on his leather seats, I can tell under any other circumstances i'd be on the receiving end of a talking to, but instead Jack ignores it, turning back to the road. "I have family out of state who own some property," he says. "It's nothing big, but it's safe and it's in the middle of nowhere. Everyone keeps to themselves, so you should be able to settle in nice and quiet."
"The kind of place I can lay low in, huh?"
Jack nods. "At the very least until things die down." He takes the exit onto the freeway, the tick-tick-tick of the indicator so incredibly loud in the silence.
"Third time's a charm, I guess," I mumble, mostly to myself.
"You never know," says Jack, reaching across to pat my knee. "You might grow to like Clearwater."
We drive until the sun dips low on the horizon, and the landscape turns from barren and dusty to green and lush. The road begins a gentle wind upward until I'm sure we're about the break through the sky itself.
At just after six, Jack pulls into a roadhouse for dinner. Cody is ravenous, and stuffs himself with chicken fried steak and waffles. By the time he's finished, he's so tired and full he's almost asleep in his seat. While he sleeps on my lap, I demolish a bowl of pasta, an entire stack of garlic bread, and half a slice of apple pie. I can't remember the last time I felt so full.
Of course, ten minutes on the road again and the anxiety in my gut causes it to churn so hard I have to get Jack to pull over.
By eleven o'clock Jack can barely keep his eyes open, and Cody is awake and cranky, so ready to be out of the car.
We find a motel with rooms to rent in a tiny town near the top of the mountain. Cody and I stay in the car, away from prying eyes, while Jack books two rooms. I watch him through the car window, broad shoulders and thick, ropey arms outlined beneath Italian tailoring.
Funny. Even so far away from the place he calls home, there's still something about him that makes people cautious, like he triggers an instinctual fear in people.
Still, imposing or not, Jack finds it in him to smile and tip his head at the woman behind the counter. He's polite and friendly, and apart from Harry, there's not one single person on the planet i'd feel more safe with.
The next morning, after a breakfast of microwave burritos and gas station coffee, we drive another few hours, winding through the mountains and over the border.
"Look, Momma," whispers Cody, cheek pressed against the window.
"I see, baby."
To our left, as the mountain slopes away gently, it's like the earth unfolds beneath us. The cloud cover begins to part and the trees thin, revealing clear, blue sky and rolling green for miles and miles.
We begin the slow descent down the other side of the mountain, and not long after we make it to the bottom, tiny houses begin to appear, simple log cabins and sprawling green farmland between. Logging trucks whizz by, and the odd SUV and motorbike, but other than that the roads are almost empty.
Clearwater appears soon afterward, nestled among furs and brush, hidden beneath he shadow of the mountain. It's barely a town. It's a general store and gas station, a few convenience stores and a diner - that's all. It's the kind of place you could nap right through. Blink and you'd miss it.
On the edge of town, tucked against the forest, is a tiny weatherboard house. The road is long and empty, and there's just two other houses in the street, with large yards and weedy blocks of land in between.
The front porch of the house is creaky and needs another coat of paint, but inside it's warm and smells of wood polish and pine. A small kitchen and living area sit downstairs, and three - yes, three - beautiful, bright bedrooms are upstairs along with a bathroom.
The yard is full of weeds, but there are empty flower beds and spots for herbs or even vegetables. There's even a huge, thick-trunked tree in the front yard, the kind you could hang a swing from, climb in, carve your name into.
It's small and simple and wonderful and it's ours.
Jack very kindly helps Cody and I settle in, even though I tell him a thousand times he doesn't need to.
We open windows and let in the breeze, we order groceries to be delivered, and Jack promises to organise furniture deliveries. Of course, being so far from a city or any other kind of real civilisation means we're going to have to wait at least a week for beds and proper furniture. But the old spring-loaded mattresses in the house will do for now, and after a good wash at the local laundromat, the blankets and sheets are just fine if not a little old.
The house is equipped with bare necessities - all the things you'd find in a holiday home. Or, as is more likely, a safe house.
But one man can only do so much, especially when there's not much to do. The next day Jack makes it clear that he has to leave.
He packs the small amount of belongings he brought with him into the car, and gratefully accepts a thermos filled with coffee for the trip.
"One last thing," he says, reaching into the back of his car.
He hands me a shopping bag, out of which I pull a brand new phone in its box.
"Jack..."
"I've already programmed my number in. You have any problems-anything at all-you call me. Got it?"
Folding his jacket neatly, he drapes it over the passenger seat.
"And you'll call me?" I ask tentatively. "If...he shows up?"
"The very moment." I watch as he dons those ever-present sunglasses, the ginger in his beard shining copper in the sunlight. "Are sure you sure don't want me to stay the night? Make sure you're comfortable?"
"It's a kind offer, but no." I straighten my shoulders. "We need to do this."
"You're going?" asks Cody, who's appeared at my side, dinosaur toy in hand. He looks up at me, concern in his eyes. "Mr. Jack isn't sleeping the night?"
"No, buddy," I say, pulling him into my side. "He has to go back home."
"But I'll come back to visit," says Jack with a smile. "Don't you worry about that."
"So, we is staying here forever?"
I look back over my shoulder at the double-front house, then down at him. "For now, yeah."
"Cool! Hey, can I go play?"
"Sure, just stay close."
We're both quiet for a minute. Jack watches Cody over my shoulder, while I search for the appropriate words to thank a man who's basically saved my life.
"Jack, I can't..." I frown, failing to shape my mouth around the appropriate words "I don't know how to thank you enough. Or if I can. What you've done for Cody and I...you're a good man. Even if you don't think so."
I could be imagining it, but when I look up I swear I see a hint of a blush beneath his wooly cheeks. "Yeah, well. You can thank me by staying out of trouble, you hear me?"
A genuine smile lifts my cheeks. "I'll do my best."
"That'll have to do, I guess," says Jack with an echoing smile. I watch as he folds himself neatly into the driver's seat, ready for the long trek back to the city. "I'll see you soon," he says through he open window.
"I'll be here."
That night, after a whirlwind two days of travel and excitement for Cody, we both crash early.
Maybe it's the creaking of the big house around us, or maybe it's the stray arm Cody throws across my head in the middle of the night, but I wake around one in the morning, and can't seem to find sleep again.
In the end, I realise that it's the stillness.
The silence.
There are no bright lights. No sounds of the apartment block around us. No traffic noises in the distance. Nothing.
It's startling, and it makes me realise how small I am in this big, big world.
The furniture arrives three days later. Brand new beds, living room decor, and a small hard-wood dining table. It's not much, but it's a start.
The first two weeks in our new home I cry myself to sleep almost every night.
Away from the city, in the silent backwoods of Clearwater, it's like it all finally comes crashing down on me. How close I came to loosing everything, how stupid and naïve I was to think I could outplay Nick.
Alone beneath my new sheets, in a new town, with a new life, hundreds of miles from a familiar face, I realize how empty my bed feels. How empty my life feels without Harry around. I'm not sure how I lived alone for so long before he came into our lives.
In the mornings I try to scrub him from my skin. To wash away the memory of his hands on my body, his lips on mine, his skin against my own. But no matter how hard I try to clean him from my waking memory, his face still haunts me in my sleep. Dreams of him come, unbidden, in the middle of the night when I have no choice but to live through the pain of seeing him again.
The man I loved.
Still love.
Kind, sweet, quiet, patient.
A killer.