Hidden Shadows (The Shadow Series Book 1)

SEVENTEEN

It had been just over a week since Jenna ravaged Ben's character.

And she was miserable.

The days had been bombarded with constant movement and plans. Her usual work load, plus ongoing police communication, nightly checks on her children who were bunking at Robin's, and finalizing future custody times with Keith, who'd made the big move two days ago, had left little time to stop and breathe, much less agonize over her plight.

But she'd managed it anyway.

Layered atop all the maddening busyness (not to mention the very real danger hovering) was the continual awareness that there was only one person to blame for her misery, and she could stare at them in the mirror anytime.

Out of her own stubborn stupidity, she'd thrown away the life she'd always wanted. A life that, virtually two weeks ago, had been sitting in her lap. All she'd had to do was take it, seize it and the man who offered it, and never let go.

Instead, she heaved it off a large cliff, never to be seen again.

It had taken very little time and only a few moments of settling down, clearing her head, to know Ben had nothing to do with anything that happened. But by then it was too late. Damage done. Man gone. Relationship ended.

Not only did she ruin something beautiful, something she'd always dreamed of, she'd pushed away one of her best allies in a time she needed trust and loyalty most.

Ben was a good man, and even before the madness had begun, he was a doer, a worker, a gentleman. When things began to spiral down, he stayed strong, was a shoulder to lean on, a smart mind to bounce ideas off of.

And she'd hurt him, accused of him of the worst. She'd done what he feared and predicted—she hadn't trusted him. And it proved to be their undoing.

All this time, over all these years, she'd vowed to be cautious, clear-headed, smart, when she finally entered into a serious relationship again. And she'd failed herself. Let her fear take over her logic. Let her head speak instead of her heart.

Let the stupid, cruel acts of a lunatic push her to push away love.

As Robin padded into the lamp-lit living room, Jenna thanked her lucky stars she still had some friends left. At least she'd been sane enough not to accuse them too. Which surprised her in a way, considering all the ridiculous scenarios she finagled to make the guilty yoke fit Ben.

"Okay, what's wrong?" Robin handed Jenna a delicate pink ceramic cup, took the matching seat across from Jenna in a set of bright, bold patterned chairs. "You look so miserable I can't even take it anymore."

Jenna attempted a smile. "I'm trying, Robin."

"It's been over a week since the last incident, Jen. And the kids have been fine here . . . safe, happy."