Chapter 49 Amber

Amber scrambled to get her things together and check out of the hotel. She'd booked a nonstop flight to New York, and she needed to be at the airport within the hour for her five o'clock flight. When she landed, the car she'd ordered would be waiting to take her to Bishops Harbor, an hour's drive from JFK.

"Bobby, you need to drive like lightning. I have to be at the airport pronto."

"Bad time of day for traffic, ma'am, but I'll do my darndest."

The drive seemed interminable between the beginnings of rush hour and red lights along the way, but miraculously they made it with time to spare. Since she still had forty-five minutes before boarding, Amber settled herself in the first-class lounge and waited. It would be sometime around eleven, maybe even close to midnight before she finally arrived at the house. Jackson had no idea she was coming. He really didn't understand who he was dealing with. No, he'd always underestimated her, thought he was smarter than she was. He'd screwed her over, but he'd forgotten that she had all the goods to get even, the dummy.

He would never see his precious son again. Jackson had pined for years for a son. It was the reason she'd been able to steal him from Daphne—she'd purposely gotten pregnant and, as luck would have it, was carrying a boy. She could still remember the look of pure joy on Jackson's face when she'd given him a copy of the sonogram of his son. It would kill him to lose Jax. His little man. She would take Jax far away and Jackson would live the rest of his life having no idea where he was. Maybe she'd even send him a postcard occasionally just to taunt him. By the time Jax was an adult, she would have brainwashed him to the point he'd never want a relationship with his father. Jackson wanted to play dirty, and this was the kind of arena where Amber fought best.

It was a full flight, and sitting next to Amber in first class was an old man who fell asleep minutes after takeoff. She was thankful that she didn't have a chatty Cathy beside her, but when she noticed drool trickling from his open mouth, she almost threw up. She shuddered, reflexively moving away from him even though the large seats provided ample separation. He continued to snore and grunt throughout the flight, and she almost cheered when they finally landed. How disgusting it was to be old. She really needed to fly private in the future.

It was only adrenaline keeping Amber awake on the drive to Bishops Harbor. She was dead tired, and her eyes burned with fatigue, but sleep was light-years away. She sat up and put the window down when the driver pulled through the gates. The house was dark, only the outside architectural and landscape lighting illuminating the night. The car came to a stop and the driver got out and went to the trunk.

"You can just leave the bags on the porch. I'll get help to take them in," she directed, handing him a wad of cash.

The house was still when she entered and slipped off her shoes. She wondered if Jackson was asleep already. Should she surprise him? Putting her ear against the bedroom door, she stood very still and listened. There was no sound, but breathing wouldn't necessarily be heard from where she stood. With her heart racing, she turned the knob as slowly as she dared and opened the door a slight crack. Moonlight filtered into the room through the sheer curtains, and as her eyes adjusted to the light, she saw that the bed was empty. What the hell was going on? Suddenly the sound of heavy footsteps startled her, and she let out a shriek as she turned around.

"Amber. You frightened me. I thought you were a burglar." Chloe was holding a broom in one hand and a flashlight in the other.

Amber began laughing hysterically in both relief and at the sight of the broom as a defense weapon. "Where is Jackson?"

"After Daphne ran away with the girls two nights ago, I thought Mr. Parrish was going to have a stroke. He was furious, screaming and yelling, stomping around like a madman. He left this afternoon for Dallas."

"Dallas? Why did he go to Dallas?"

"He said he had business there and then he was going to find Daphne and the girls. He has the police and the FBI looking for them. Put out an Amber Alert and everything. But so far, nothing."

"Where's Jax?"

"He's in bed."

"Okay. Why don't you go back to sleep? I need to get some sleep too. We can talk more in the morning. And put the broom away."

Chloe laughed. "Good night, Amber. See you in the morning."

All at once the tension of the last thirty-six hours swept over Amber in what felt like a tidal wave of exhaustion. She set the alarm for five a.m. and then fell into bed. She was asleep within five minutes.

When Amber awoke at five, the house was still quiet. Jax usually slept until seven or seven thirty, so she had time. Daphne was on the run and Jackson was in Dallas. What did that mean for Amber? It seemed to her that nothing good would come from her hanging around. She needed to get out of this house and out of Bishops Harbor. In fact, the smart thing for her to do was to get the hell out of the country. After making herself a strong cup of coffee, she retrieved her and Jax's passports, stuffing them into her handbag. Taking their son would be a delicious kick in the balls for Jackson. Next, she packed a carry-on with only necessities. She'd add just a few of Jax's things as soon as he woke up. There'd be time and money to buy whatever they needed or wanted at the other end.

After a second cup of coffee, Amber booked two first-class tickets to the Maldives on Qatar Airways for nine thirty tonight. It was a twenty-five-hour trip with one stop in Doha, and then she'd plan her new life. She'd change her name to something like Juliette de Vere or Emmeline Percy or something equally fitting. With the right amount of cash, it would be no problem to obtain counterfeit credentials. From there she would decide on the location of her new home. Perhaps Geneva or maybe Florence. Amber's imagination was already weaving the threads of her new persona into her head. She would be the beautiful young American widow, grieving the loss of her husband and caring for her dear little son. She could picture it all, like a classic scene from a great movie, with Amber the star.

There was just one more thing to do before she and Jax left. The three pink diamonds Jackson didn't know she'd kept. Opening the box of tampons, she pulled the cotton out by the string and dumped them onto the palm of her hand. A feeling of satisfaction surged through her. Despite Jackson screwing her out of the money she'd invested in Daisy Ann's company, she still had these. When the time was right, she'd sell them, three of the most precious of the stash, and then she'd never, ever have to worry about money again.