Amity Steffen - Reunion On The Run

She shook her head. “You can think what you like, but until this is over, I won’t be safe anywhere.”

“Claire—” his tone was firm “—I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

She leveled him with a look that clearly stated he had already hurt her more than anyone else could.

“You’re right,” she said quietly. She picked up her bag, edging away from Alex as she headed toward the bedroom. “I should get some sleep. I’m tired. I can’t deal with any more tonight.”

He thought she probably meant she couldn’t deal with him any more tonight. He couldn’t blame her. He would help her clear her name. It wouldn’t absolve him of his past mistakes, but it was something. Then he would allow her to get on with her life.

Claire struggled to force her eyes open as she fought against the sensation of water filling her nose, her mouth, threatening to fill her lungs. Her limbs vibrated with anxiety as a feeling of dread flowed through her body. She tried to move but her arms felt weighted down, too heavy to budge.

She gasped for air as she willed herself out of the nightmare that had plagued her since Jared’s death. She tried not to think of that awful day, but the memories consistently wound themselves into her dreams. Jared had drowned...and she’d nearly drowned trying to save him.

Blinking into the dimly lit room, she felt disoriented.

Where was she?

She scrambled into a sitting position, heart hammering wildly. Hazy light crept through the sides of the curtains, barely offering enough light to see by. Unfamiliar walls surrounded her. A strange door was straight across from her. Panic sizzled through her veins as the foreign room came into focus. She jerked fully awake as she tried to get her bearings.

A soft nudge against her hand immediately calmed her. Roscoe whimpered, as if sensing her panic. He nudged her again, the action instantly setting her at ease. She let her hand drift over his head. His silky fur felt familiar and comforting under her palm.

She hated reliving the moment she’d found Jared facedown in the pool. She’d jumped in without thinking, her fleece bathrobe weighing her down, pulling her under, anchoring her below the surface. She’d struggled with the tie around her waist, fighting to get it undone so she could slip free. Once out of the robe, she’d broken the surface of the water, gasping for air even as she swam toward Jared. She’d dragged him to the edge, pulled him out. Her efforts had been in vain. He had died within moments of being shoved into the pool. The blow to his head incapacitating him enough that he’d dragged in a water-filled breath and that had been the end of him.

Her own lungs burned as she dropped back onto her pillow. She shoved the nightmarish memory aside. Other nightmarish memories quickly seeped in, filling her mind with another brand of terror as she thought of the harrowing evening she’d had.

She’d escaped Xavier’s men by the grace of God, and the grace of God alone. She focused on that realization. God had been with her. He had protected her.

Eventually her heartbeat calmed to a dull, hollow thud.

She tried to tell herself she was safe but couldn’t quite force herself to believe it.

On the other side of the door rested another sort of threat.

Alex would never ever hurt her physically. Not like Jared had. But the man was hazardous to her emotional state. Last night the shock of seeing him had numbed some of the hurt.

Roscoe ducked out from under her ministrations. He moved to the closed door and treated her to a pathetic look as he silently pleaded to be let outside.

Claire tossed off the blankets and swung her legs around the side of the bed. She shivered despite the comfy sweatshirt and sweatpants she’d slept in. Her body still tingled with the echoing fear of her nightmare. Would her life ever feel normal again?

The bedroom door creaked when she pulled it open.

Alex’s blanket—an extra one she’d found in a dresser drawer—was already folded and tossed over the back of the couch. His pillow was neatly propped against the armrest. He stood before the window, his body alert, always ready for action.

Claire watched him for a moment. Mixed emotions swirled through her. He had left her. He left her alone. Scared. Pregnant. Grieving over the loss of her fiancé, her best friend.

Seeing him now, she couldn’t help but think of what could have been. They should’ve been married by now. They should’ve been a family. Alex, her and Mia. If things had gone differently, would Mia have had a little brother or sister? She could so easily imagine Christmas mornings by the tree, church together every Sunday. Family dinners, Saturday morning breakfasts.

She shook the thoughts away. That had been her dream once. But Alex had killed that dream.

He turned to face her, a cardboard cup of coffee in one hand. His hair was damp and he was clean-shaven. Despite wearing yesterday’s clothes, he managed to look put-together.

“The office carries a few essentials,” he said. “There’re powdered doughnuts on the table and a cup of coffee for you. I got Roscoe a couple packages of hot dogs. I know it’s not ideal but it’ll get us by for the morning. I got myself a razor, toothbrush, toothpaste. If you need anything, let me know and I’ll go get it.”

She nodded. “Thanks.”

“I’ll take him out so you can have a few minutes to yourself.”

When he was gone she carefully rummaged around in her backpack. A toiletry bag held enough to get her by for a few more days. She had several outfits in there, more than one would have thought. Each rolled into a tight, efficient bundle. Each plain and perfunctory.

In a side, zippered pocket was her second bottle of pepper spray. Like the one she’d used at the cabin, it belonged on the end of a key chain. Instead she’d put it on the end of a cord so she could wear it around her neck. She didn’t need it now but was grateful she had thought to buy more than one.

She grabbed what she needed and headed to the bathroom. By the time she got out of the shower, Roscoe was tended to, her coffee was cool and Alex looked apprehensive. An unusual look for him.

He patted the seat next to him at the table.

She dropped down into it, happily taking a doughnut. It was dried out, but she was ravenous. Even the lukewarm coffee was a treat. She was halfway through her coffee before she realized her wallet was open on the table. The plastic sleeve that held pictures was conspicuously absent.

Her last bite of doughnut tasted like chalk. She gulped some coffee to choke it down.

“I shouldn’t have dug through your things,” he admitted. “But I couldn’t wait any longer. I assumed you had a picture of her.” He held up the photos. “She’s the prettiest little thing I’ve ever seen.”

Claire met his eyes. His expression was guarded. Yet it was so like Alex to bluntly jump right into the conversation without preamble.

She appreciated his directness and intended to reciprocate.

“I need you to understand that I never wanted to keep Mia from you.” Claire paused, taking a moment to organize her thoughts. “It took me a while to realize I was pregnant. I wasn’t feeling well. I was sick for months. I attributed it to stress.” She’d attributed it to a shattered heart. She saw no point in laying that accusation on him. “By the time I knew I was pregnant, I had no idea how to find you. I did try. You had been behaving so recklessly, as if you had no regard for your own life. Each mission you took was more dangerous than the last. I was afraid of what I would find. I was so afraid you’d been killed. I had to stop looking.”

“I left the country for a while.” He cleared his throat. “I’m in a better place now.”