Grave Secrets (Manhunters 1)

Savannah lifted her head, smiling while tears blurred her vision. “Really final? It’s done? No more wrenches in the system?”

“Not for the divorce. That’s the good news. Brace yourself for the bad news.”

She held her breath and went stone-still. But the look on Audrey’s face gave the news away, and terror clawed at Savannah’s gut. “No…”

Audrey winced and nodded as she pulled more papers from her briefcase. “He’s suing for sole custody of Jamison.”

“No.” Fear and fury raged in a flash fire. Jamison looked up from his game, but Savannah didn’t have the strength to pretend or console him now. “No, no, no.” She curled her hands into fists to keep from slamming them on the table. “No, goddammit. He can’t—” Have him. “He won’t…” Take care of him. Won’t love him. “No.”

Audrey’s hands covered Savannah’s, and she dipped her head to meet Savannah’s gaze. “Just because he wants it doesn’t mean he’ll get it.”

Jagged emotions eddied through Savannah like the icy rapids of the Bitterroot River. She pulled from Audrey’s touch with fear cutting at her insides. Pushing to her feet, she turned her back to Jamison, pressed her hands to the table, and forced her voice low.

“He and Lyle have every judge in this county in their pocket. His deputies have been padding ‘my file’ with false charges. Just this morning, they…” She shook her head and pressed her fingers to trembling lips. The power Hank and Lyle wielded in Hazard County overwhelmed her. “We both know if he wants it, he’ll get it—no matter what.” She closed her eyes and gripped the table with a whispered “Maybe it’s time…”

Time to run. Time to hide. Time to disappear—to another state, another country…

“He’s just fucking with you, Savannah. He can’t take care of Jamison himself. This is just another attempt to torment you because he’s a small, mean, cowardly excuse of a man.”

She straightened and crossed her arms. Yes, he was messing with her. Yes, he was a small, mean, cowardly excuse of a man. But somehow, this felt like his last stand. Like he was telling her that if she didn’t come back, he’d take Jamison—a final fuck-you to Savannah. And if he took Jamison, Hank certainly wouldn’t need her for anything.

Mason’s death popped into her head again.

She squeezed her arms, pushing the dark tendril back into the depths of her mind. “How can I move three hours away if I’m going to have to come back here for court hearings? With a new job? And Jamison’s new school? And we both know how it would look to a judge—especially a judge here—if I moved Jamison three hours away from Hank now.”

“I agree,” Audrey said. “Considering the circumstances, I think you need to wait until custody is finalized before you move.”

Savannah pressed her hand to her forehead. “This will never end.”

“I’ve already filed a petition against the hearing,” Audrey said, “citing the custody arrangements in the divorce papers. This will take time to clear up, but we will clear it up, Savannah.”

She didn’t believe anything at this point. All she knew right now was that even though she’d gotten the official divorce from Hank, he still had her in shackles. She would spend the next ten years paying off Audrey’s bill, even at the ridiculously low rate the woman was charging. Hank, on the other hand, had his father’s unlimited finances to keep Savannah in legal battles until Jamison turned eighteen.

This would never end.

With her hope extinguished, she felt lifeless.

“Thank you—for everything,” She leaned in to hug Audrey. “I could never pay you enough for everything you’ve done for me and Jamison. Without you…” She teared up again, pulled away, and shook her head. “I’m sorry. I need a break. I need to get Jamison home. Can we talk later?”

“How ’bout if I bring dinner and wine around six?” Audrey offered.

Savannah smiled, but her cheeks pushed tears from her eyes. “That sounds perfect.”

“Hey.” Audrey grabbed her hand. “Don’t lose hope, honey. I’ll fight that bastard to my grave, if necessary.”

Savannah laughed, thanked Audrey again, and bundled up Jamison in his parka. Even braced for the cold as she stepped outside, it still stole her breath for a long second. Seeing her car parked smack in front of the fire hydrant brought everything back in a heated rush—a symbol of years of manipulation, of struggle, of abuse. So much abuse.

After settling Jamison in the back seat, she rounded the driver’s side, and the flutter of plastic caught her eye.

They’d left her a ticket tucked into a plastic sleeve and shoved under her wiper blade. Savannah jerked it out, crumpled it into a ball and shoved it into her pocket. “Fuckers.”

She took a deep breath before she opened the driver’s door. She needed to settle. To find even ground. Hell, find any ground. Jamison would pick up on her distress, and his anxiety would skyrocket. Living with his father would ruin Jamison. Absolutely demolish him. Savannah knew. It had almost destroyed her.

Savannah’s heart felt frozen and heavy as she stared up at the mountains towering over the little town—very much the way Hank and Lyle loomed over her and Jamison. She could still remember being overwhelmed with the beauty here and awed by the town’s history when she’d first come to visit. It was harder to remember being head over heels for both Hank and his family. So many broken promises and crushed dreams. There was no part of that hopeful, dreamy girl left inside her now. Hank had killed that part of her a long time ago.

She exhaled heavily, and as her breath billowed in the air, thoughts of running returned. Because she’d never leave her son in the hands of men like Hank and Lyle.

Never.