Page 63 of Protect My Heart

Liz picked up her water glass and made a noncommittal sound as she tried to think of a way to change the subject. Her brain wasn’t fast enough. The image of a cute little family with two children playing in the yard with Tigger flooded her senses.

“Well,” Joy said. “You may be right, Rosa. Lizzy will make the right choice. I think she already has.”

Her breath stopped. The water sloshed as she choked. Liz coughed.

“Dear, are you alright?” Rosa leaned over to pat Liz’s back.

“Fine, uh, I’m fine. Will you excuse me?” Scooping up her purse, she rose from the table. She needed some air. That wasn’t all. She needed to analyze why the thought of Jim and her together both frightened her and exhilarated her.

In the restroom, she rung out a damp towel and patted her face and throat. Their relationship appeared to be moving in the direction of permanency no matter how hard she tried to keep it casual. She couldn’t lie to herself and say she hadn’t thought about a future with him. And it scared the crap out of her. She didn’t know if she could do it. If she lost someone she loved again it would kill her. She turned and threw the towel in the trash before straightening and facing the woman in the mirror. Jim had opened up to her. For him to share a past wound was a major step in their relationship. She hadn’t taken the time to process this new information.

“How do you feel about that?” She asked the reflection.

The dark eyes staring back lit with joy. She blew out a breath. Her mouth trembled as she smiled. “I think it’s a good thing. Yes, a very good thing.”

The smile fell. She was so screwed.

Her phone chimed. Fishing it out from her purse, she frowned when she didn’t recognize the number. Her finger hovered over the decline button but a prickle of awareness had her answering. “Hello.”

“Are you enjoying your lunch, Mo stór?”

That voice, that endearment.

“Who is this? I know you’re not my father. He’s dead.”

He chuckled. “Don’t you like the endearment? Patty loved his stór.”

“You don’t scare me.” Yes he did, but she wasn’t going to tell him that. “What do you want?”

“What? No time for small talk? Fine, I’ll get to the point.” His voice floated in her ears. She couldn’t place it but knew she should. “You have something I want and I have something you want.”

Liz shook her head. She should hang up and call Jim. The thought still fresh in her mind, the door flung open and a young, pale man entered the restroom. “What the—”

“Miss O’Roarke, my associate is there to escort you.”

“The fuck he is.” Liz backed up to the stall door.

The man in baggy jeans, a cargo jacket, and a shaved head stood sentinel in front of the door. Two tear tattoos dripped from his right eye.

“Don’t do anything rash. When our conversation is over, he will take your phone and be your driver.”

“To where?” No way in hell she was getting in a car with this guy. “What do you want?”

“Ah, now to the true nature of our business.”

She still couldn’t place the voice.

“I want Patty’s journal. My man will take you to get it, and then you’ll bring it to me.”

“I don’t have his journal.” She didn’t even know her father kept one.

“Bullshit! I know he snuck a package out of the prison before he died.” The man bellowed into the phone.

Package? Realization dawned. The one riding around in her car. Could it be? No, that was lingerie she’d ordered when in Florida, with the misguided thought of modeling it for her boyfriend, Tory. The cheating jerk.

She eyed the guy by the door. He shifted and the butt of a handgun peeked out from under his jacket. She swallowed. “I need a few minutes to get it.”

“Don’t take too long. The mutt is getting cold. Not sure if he will make it much longer.”