Finding Tessa by Jaime Hendricks (good story books to read TXT) 📕

Robert took a deep breath. “I don’t know, Jace. I know she was shot—”

“Oh my God!” Jace exclaimed as pictures of her beautiful, smiling face flashed through his head. Unfortunately, those images were followed by Jane Doe on the table. Cut up, tortured, and shot. Of Rosita shot.

“She might be okay. Maribel took Tessa somewhere—they knew each other. I have the address where she might be. This is where they’re sending the tactical unit.” He looked at Evan. “It was 899 Centaur Parkway.”

Evan plugged it into the navigation and turned to Jace. “We can beat them there. Ready?”

Robert held up a hand. “I don’t want to be disbarred. I can’t go. If anyone asks, you saw the address on the papers Solomon threw on the table. Now go.”

“Robert, I don’t know what to say,” Evan said, and they did their little finger-gun secret handshake again. “We’ll never be able to thank you enough.”

Jace yanked on Robert’s suit jacket and actually hugged the man from the front seat, then turned to a smiling Evan. “It’s time.”

Robert exited the car, and Evan sped away.

39

TESSA

I open the bedroom door and run.

“You fucking bitch!” Drew screams behind me.

There’s a hallway. Stairs.

I almost make it, and then my hair is yanked from behind. I fall to the ground and now I’m being dragged backward as my noodle legs fight for stability against the hardwood floor. He lets go unexpectedly and my head clunks onto the floor. Then he grabs my injured arm and the pain from the bullet wound makes me go limp as he pulls me back into the bedroom.

Drew grunts and lifts a leg, about to stomp on me and I instinctively clutch my abdomen. Don’t you dare hurt this baby. I will fucking kill you.

He puts his leg down. This asshole really thinks this baby is going to be his.

But he still doesn’t give a shit about me, evidenced by how he leans down and punches my face. Twice. Jesus, between Damon’s punch and this one may have been the longest I’ve gone without being hit in two decades, and the pain isn’t familiar anymore.

I’ve grown accustomed to being loved.

I’m on the floor, spitting blood. Weak. Drew puts his hand on his head and paces.

“You just never fucking learn, do you?” he says.

Oh, I’ve learned a thing or two, you psychotic asshole. Like when I dropped a wine glass and you picked up a shard—and cut me with it, so I would “learn” not to break things.

Thank you for that, darling husband of mine.

The next time he turns to pace away from me, I grab a piece of the shattered lamp and I stab it right into his Achilles.

The sound that emits from his mouth is animalistic and he drops to the ground and grasps his ankle. He’s still wailing in pain as I crawl on the rest of the broken glass, cutting freedom into my palms as I head toward the door. I stand as he reaches for me, a last desperate attempt to keep me in his clutches.

I find the stairs and rush down. There’s a front door. I open it and I can’t believe my eyes.

Two men are running up the lawn. I squint, and I see Evan. And the other is Jace, shouting my name.

Is this a dream? My bloody arms are outstretched, reaching for him. I scream his name for help, because I’m free.

I’m free.

I’m about to run toward him but seeing Jace caused me to let my guard down, and I don’t hear Drew drum down the stairs behind me. He’s bigger and stronger than I am. I should’ve known it was going to take more than a shard of glass to take him down, and he grabs my hair again. Now I feel the familiar touch of a gun barrel at my temple.

Jace and Evan stop cold. Jace’s face is twisted.

“Andy?” he says. “Andy, what are you doing to my wife?”

Right. That’s what Maribel told me. Jace doesn’t know yet, that the person he was working with is Drew. My abusive ex-husband.

“Get back!” Drew shouts. “I’ll shoot her!”

“He’s my husband, Jace,” I say. “The one I was running from.”

Tears are running down my face as Jace takes a step closer, and in a flash, the gun is pointed at him instead.

No. Not Jace. I stop struggling beneath Drew’s arm. I’ll go with you, Asshole. Just don’t hurt Jace.

Jace is a mixture of relief and confusion and rage. His hands are up defensively, as are Evan’s. Jace doesn’t take his eyes off me.

“It’s okay, Tessa. It’s over. They know. They’re on their way,” he says with a nod. “He’s not getting away with this.”

And then I see the black vans speeding over from a distance, and the best feeling I’ve ever had washes over me as Drew loosens his grip. He knows he lost.

He lets me go.

I run to Jace and collapse in his arms. “You saved me,” I say. “Again.”

He holds my face and it doesn’t hurt, and he kisses my lips despite the blood. “I never stopped looking. I told you I’d always protect you.”

It’s the best movie ending I’ve ever seen.

Until the gun goes off behind me.

40

JACE

It was weeks later, on a Monday morning, and Jace was officially a free man. Exonerated. All charges dropped. Ralph from the electronics store was right. The record button was in an awkward spot, and Tessa forgot to turn it off when Maribel showed up at the house. Maribel then stole the device and erased everything from that evening, but she didn’t know about the Moon backup. The entire incident, along with Maribel’s explanation on who she was, and what she was going to do to Rosita, was on there. So was the interview she did with Jace as Bella Johnson. Uploaded to the Moon.

Evidence. The whole thing was open and shut.

Between the recording, Tessa’s testimony, Maribel’s body in that basement, and Andrew Grant’s