Jade
3:18
pm
I
see the black figure in the shadows, and my first thought is of the kids, an
immediate, full-throttle alarm that comes on like a freight train. This is
parenthood in a nutshell: utter terror for your children’s welfare, always.
It’s something Cam and I never thought about back when we were trying to get
pregnant—the overwhelming insecurity when the doctor settled our babies into
our arms, the unrelenting worry whenever they’re not near. I spot movement and
I reach for them at the same time—instant and instinctual. My brain identifies
a person, a male-sized form that does not belong here, and I shove their little
bodies behind mine.
A
man, looming in my garage. Breathing the same air.
I
don’t move. I can’t. No fight. No flight. I just stand here, transfixed,
dumbstruck, stock-still.
I
think of my phone, buried under the mail and trash in my bag. I think of the
panic button on the alarm pad in the house, on the other end of a breezeway and
tucked safely behind a locked door. I think of my keys, next to my phone. Even
if I managed to get us out of this garage, where would we go? I’d never make it
inside the house, and the backyard is fenced, the gates either electronic or
secured with a complicated, child-safe latch. There’s nowhere to escape.
“Don’t
move. Stay quiet and I won’t hurt you.”
The
voice is so frighteningly close. Hoarse, rattling in air hot with my sticky
fear, and I don’t believe a single word. Especially not when he steps closer,
and I get a better look. The man is wearing a mask. He’s holding a gun, a
stubby black thing in a fist. Head-to-toe black, every bit of him covered, even
his hands. His fingertips.
Run.
I scream the word in my head, urging myself on. Grab
the children and run.
Now.
A
chill races down my spine. The hairs soldier on my skin.
This
man is here to hurt me. To hurt us.
And
still I can’t move.
So
this is it, then. This is how my body responds when faced with sudden fright,
with this hot, sluggish horror—like when your fingers brush over a strange lump
under your armpit and you realize your life has veered sideways. Some people
run. Others scream. Me, I just stand here, paralyzed by the mounting terror.
The
kids, too. They stare at him with big, frightened eyes. A little hand grabs my
pants leg.
“Please,”
I somehow manage to squeak, but I can’t finish. Please
don’t touch the children. Please don’t shoot us.
The words are too horrifying to say out loud.
He
moves closer, his gait smooth but there’s something sinister in the way he’s
walking across the concrete floor. He’s like an animal on the hunt, joints
loose, ready to pounce. All dangerous, coiled energy lurking just below the
surface.
“Take
my car.” I hold out my bag, a stupidly expensive designer thing from a couple
years ago. “The keys are in here somewhere, and so’s my wallet. I—”
“I
don’t want your purse. Don’t want your car, either.” His voice is deep and
scratchy, the kind that sounds filled with cigarette smoke.
My
stomach spirals, and I search his face for more, but the parts of him I can
see—his lips, his eyes—are closed off. I search for something recognizable,
something human I can appeal to, but there’s nothing. It’s like searching for
meaning on a covered canvas.
Still,
I take in every detail I can see and commit them to memory. Just under six
foot, medium build, broad shouldered. Caucasian. I know this from his eyes,
olive green and flecked with amber, the pink patch of skin around his mouth.
His teeth are white and straight, the kind of straight that comes from braces.
“Do
you want money? I don’t have cash, but take my card. My pin is 4-3-0-8.”
“Jade.
Shh.”
My
name on his tongue tightens a knot of panic in my gut, and I scurry—finally—backwards,
putting some distance between me and this man, pushing the kids behind me and
towards the door.
Stay
calm.
Don’t
panic.
Whatever
happens, do not
let the gunman in the house. That’s how people get killed. That’s how entire
families end up in a pool of blood. As soon as you let the gunman into the
house, you’re already dead.
Excerpted from My Darling Husband @ 2021 by Kimberly S.
Belle Books, LLC, used with permission by Park Row Books.
What I thought about My Darling Husband
In My Darling Husband, Jade is doing her usual errands and getting the children from school when she thinks she sees someone following her around. A figure in black seems to be stalking her. When she pulls into her garage to encounter an intruder dressed in black, everything gets more serious when the stalker wants a specific amount of money in ransom, or Jade and her children will be killed.
There is a whole lot of tension and suspense in My Darling Husband and it kept me on the edge of my seat as I read this. The story moves along at a good pace and I did like how the story was revealed through the three POVs of Jade, Cam and the stalker.
I really enjoyed reading My Darling Husband. I wanted to find out how it ended and the way the story was presented kept me engaged in the story. I particularly like the twist that occurs (sorry, don't want to spoil), especially since I didn't see that one coming.
The story does end in a bit of a question that I'm still not sure I liked or not. I guess that's a good thing because it left me thinking about that aspect of the story. Overall, a suspenseful and entertaining read.
