Read Online Twice Shy (The Restraint Series) by Jill C Flanagan, Jill Christie - Free Book Online Page A

out. We just need a starting point for the lawyer, so we have some legal footing.”
    Mary was backed into a corner that she had no way out of. She looked at Stacy. “My sister’s name was Marianne Jonas. You were Anastacia Jonas. Or Roberts if the sack of cow dung counts. I was Shayla.” It was obvious it had been years since she said the name. It sounded scratchy as she said it.
    West asked, “The father’s first name?”
    Mary shook her head, and looked defiantly at Sarge. “Go ahead and do all these things. I’m not tellin’ his name, never.”
    Sarge put his hands up in a placating gesture. Then he put his hand out for the papers he handed to Mary. She stood, slightly wobbly, neared Sarge cautiously as if he were a pussy cat who had morphed into a cobra, stretched to hand back the papers and scurried back, downing her Caesar in gulps.
    Stacy couldn’t help but asking, “I know you didn’t want me, didn’t want to take care of me, but there’s one thing I don’t understand–why do you hate me so much?”
    Mary didn’t look at her, just turned her face to the side, unanswering. The clock ticked loudly in the silence of the house. The rays of sun glinted over the drifting cloud of cigarette smoke. When Mary realized that her silence wouldn’t suffice, she finally answered. She shrugged and said as though the answer was obvious, “You kilt my sister.”
    She then stood to refill her drink and stayed in the kitchen. The message was clear. She couldn’t say it; at this point she was probably afraid of antagonizing her landlord. But she wanted them gone.
    The post-mortem at Ma’s Kitchen didn’t bring up anything new. They had the information they wanted. West, unused to being hungover and still a bit shaky, took Sarge’s advice and loaded up on greasy food, which Stacy teased him for. She texted Tim asking him to get in touch with their travel agent to arrange flights.
    There were a few furtive looks thrown her way but no one came up to talk to her. In typical small-town fashion, the choice was to whisper behind her back. Sarge assessed West’s sobriety and let them go, promising to come down soon.
    There weren’t any direct flights from Missoula, so they chose to fly through Salt Lake City. But going home to Tim was a salve both West and Stacy craved.
    Saying goodbye to Cutters Creek the second time was even easier.

Chapter Eight
    “It’s always amazing what you can do when you have a congressman in your pocket.”
    Tim said, “I would say you had him by the balls. Because at one time, you did have him by his balls and he really enjoyed it.”
    West snorked involuntarily. Only Tim could make him laugh unselfconsciously and without vanity. West tangled his fingers in Tim’s thick silver chain, which had a pendant: a compass which only showed the direction West, the needle pointed to it. It was Tim’s public collar, a sign of commitment and ownership. The silver meant permanence. The collar they used for play was also silver, but locked in the back and said ‘Property of West’.
    Tim raised his mimosa. “To Stacy Knowles.”
    She blushed. Tim had taken West’s name when they married. Now Stacy had their name too. They had offered to adopt her. Her birth certificate and social security number had the name Anastacia Knowles. She still went by Stacy.
    It had only taken four months to process with the help of said congressman. West was a man with many connections, and it helped to grease the wheels.
    Mary, unfortunately, had had to have a chat with the FBI and ATF. Even though her information was twenty-four years out of date, they had eagerly interrogated her.
    Sometimes it was hard not to feel sorry for Mary. Sometimes it was even harder not to hate her. Stacy had considered going back to the counselor, but felt she learnt enough tools to cope the first time around.
    And Brendan. Well, it was a work in progress. He had texted, emailed and voicemailed as promised. Had adhered to every rule and