Sandra Orchard - Shades of Truth

Kim pointed to a pothole a few yards past the factory’s entrance. “I stumbled up there.”

Ethan parked, then scouted the area in ever-widening sweeps. After what felt like hours, he returned, frowning. “I’m sorry. There’s no sign of it.”

Her throat went dry. She felt like gagging, and it wasn’t from the sickly scent of gumdrops. “If those punks picked it up, they’ll know my friends’ numbers, my home number. With reverse lookup, they’ll figure out my address.” If they were brazen enough to chase her in broad daylight, who knew what they’d try under the cover of darkness?

Ethan slanted her a sideways look as he slid into the car beside her. “Why are you worried they’d come after you again?”

Her heart skipped as she realized that from his perspective there was no logical reason why they would. Why would they risk getting caught after they’d already gotten away?

She tried for a self-deprecating smile that felt weak even to her. “I guess because Dad drilled into our heads the importance of keeping our private information private. Residents will use anything as leverage to manipulate us.”

He regarded her steadily, intelligence shining out of his chocolate-colored eyes, and she shifted on her seat. “Is that the only reason?”

Blake’s ultimatum to her brother— I go down, you go down —flashed through her mind. She needed to talk to Darryl, find out why he thought Blake had targeted her. Find out if he’d snuck back and shot him.

No, she couldn’t ask him that. He’d be horrified that she’d think him capable. And she sure couldn’t confide in Ethan that particular fear.

His fingers brushed past her cheek and gently pulled a leaf from her hair. “Kim, I want to help you. But unless you level with me, I may not be able to protect you.”

She straightened. “I’m quite capable of taking care of myself.”

Ethan arched his eyebrow.

“Okay, today was an exception. But nothing like this has ever happened to me before.”

He started the car and nodded at the officer as they passed. “Skulk around in neighborhoods like this one and you’re asking for trouble.”

“That from a man who lives here,” she said wryly.

“That from a man who doesn’t want to see you hurt.” His words burrowed into her wounded heart and nestled there. She recalled his stricken expression when he’d knelt over her in the ditch. He’d feared the worst, and something told her he’d seen the worst before. And that the experience still haunted him. He looked at her now with a mixture of frustration and disappointment.

She dropped her gaze, fiddled with her shoelaces. “Take the next left to get to my street,” she said, loosening the laces pinching her swollen foot. She tried not to wince at the way it throbbed.

Ethan jerked the steering wheel right.

“Where are you going? I said turn left.”

“Not anywhere you’re going to be happy about.”

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