Page 16 of Passion in Bloom

I didn’t want his help. Couldn’t he see? I’d never asked him for anything.

Roarke and Marty, and hell, Nance, too. They all back off and let me be. Where Roarke was concerned, I simply wasn’t strong enough to be trapped under his help. I didn’t want to be stuck after his favor or good deed of heroism. That was how it all began when I arrived in Chicago. That was how David dug his claws into me. It wasn’t a matter of independence that had me not wanting his help. It was a matter of survival, the only mode of surviving that I knew of—solo.

“I’m not interested in talking to either of you about my ex-boyfriend.” I was proud of how firm my voice sounded. How clearly I enunciated my position, no hint of fear available for them to see.

Irritation was in charge of my attitude now, and that was far better than wallowing in panic.

Marty nodded, accepting what I said. He nudged Roark’s arm, but the tall, stubborn man didn’t react. Still staring at me, serious and worried, he didn’t step back.

“Let’s go,” Marty urged him. “She said she doesn’t want to talk, then she doesn’t want to talk.”

I crossed my arms. “That’s right.”

“Heather,” Marty said as he backed up and tugged on Roarke’s sleeve to prompt him to walk away, “please don’t hesitate to call me if you change your mind. If you’d like to talk about David Kenning. Or anything else at all. If you feel unsafe and—”

“No. I’ll be fine,” I lied.

That was the winning combination of words that made them leave. Marty encouraged Roarke to back up, but as he did, he kept looking back at me, as though he could will me to change my mind.

They couldn’t force me to say anything. And there simply was no damn point to open my mouth at all. David was invincible. He’d never be stopped, and letting the cops get involved would somehow be more ammunition to use against me.

I stood at the front door, watching through a crack as Marty turned the cruiser around and drove back down the bumpy path that would lead back to town. Roarke left as well, taking his truck further toward the woods to go home to his own cabin.

Yet, I stayed there, looking out at the darkening scenery. The sun set so much earlier now, but there was still plenty of light for me to zone out and wonder.

Are you watching, David?

Are you out there?

Why? Why me?

Why can’t you just give up and let me go?

Just before I turned to go inside, I caught sight of Nevaeh coming up the path.

Now what?

She didn’t seem to be heading toward my cabin, not veering off the path to come this way.

With her head hung down, her purple and blue strands curtaining her face, she seemed intent on slowly walking her bike further on.

Probably going to Roarke’s.

Then she pitched forward, sinking into a crouch as she puked. The sounds of her retching reached my ears, and I grimaced at how violently she heaved.

“Ah, dammit.” Careful to keep the deadbolt engaged so the door wouldn’t shut all the way—been there, done that with getting locked out—I hurried closer to her.

“Hey, are you all right?” I asked.

Worry filled me, and I wondered how much thinner she could be. How much more gaunt she could look.

“Oh.” She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand as she glowered at me. “It’s you.”

I dismissed her bitter attitude. The last time I spoke to her, she’d been planning on getting money from me. I bet that wouldn’t endear me to her, but I wouldn’t go soft on her now.

She wouldn’t get a handout from me, not a single cent, but I could offer her assistance when she was ill. That was a facet of basic human decency I still possessed despite what David did to me.

“Yeah. Me. Heather. Cabin lady. Are you all—” I walker closer, tempted to rub her back because that seemed the most natural thing to do when a child threw up.