Page 81 of Abandoned

He came up beside her and bumped her with his elbow. “You need to talk to him.”

“I’m not ready.”

“Don’t blame him. It’s my fault we left.”

Zara stopped walking. “He knows me well enough to know he handled it all wrong. There are things he could have done—oh, like reply to my text in a reasonable amount of time. But he didn’t. I don’t know if I can trust him. I’ll talk to him when I’m ready.”

She bolted away. After her paperwork was done, she went to the locker room and changed.

She slid her shorts on and stuffed her hands in the pockets to straighten them out. There was something in her pocket. She pulled it out.

The twisty-tie ring. Right. Same shorts as yesterday.

Her spirit wilted. She loved him so much, but her heart couldn’t handle a man that would ditch her when he felt like it.

Maybe she should throw the ring away.

But she didn’t want to. She wanted to work things out with Will. But that couldn’t be. But maybe she should at least talk to him first. Maybe even give the ring back.

She shoved it in her pocket, finished dressing, and slammed her locker shut. She needed someone she could count on, who would be steady. And above all, who wouldn’t abandon her. He was supposed to go talk Logan down and bring him back to the party, not leave.

She darted out of the station as fast as she could.

As she processed Miley’s voice on the phone, she realized the young woman’s voice was not quite her normal tone. Like something was wrong.

Zara shook her head. Had she made a mistake in making Miley wait? Should she have gone over in a formal police manner instead of friend-mode? Then at least her gun would be holstered on her side. But at least she had it in her purse.

She drove across town to Miley’s home. Surely Brett was still at work anyway. Maybe Miley was simply having a rough day or Corbin was being an extra handful. Little boys could be that way. Not that she had much experience with kids on a personal level.

Giant raindrops began to fall against her windshield.

Great. This wouldn’t be the relief from the heat they needed. That’s not how the summer weather seemed to work in North Carolina. No, this would just take the humidity from bearable to suffocating.

She turned on her wipers and turned into the mobile home neighborhood.

Shoot. Brett was home.

She parked beside his truck and strapped her purse across her body, tugging the strap a little tighter so the gun was easy to access.

Praying as she went, she climbed the steps and knocked on the door.

“Come on in.” Miley’s voice shook.

Something wasn’t right. Zara unzipped the compartment that held her gun, leaving her hand right beside it. She opened the door with her left hand.

Miley stood across the room in front of Brett, who held a gun to Miley’s temple.

Brett glared at Zara. “Hands up.”

Zara obeyed and followed the next directions one by one.

“Close the door. Drop the purse to the ground. Lift your shirt and spin around slowly. Come here.”

She took five steps until she was barely out of his reach.

He shoved Miley across to the couch. Stepping forward, he clutched Zara’s throat.

Jesus! Help!