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“It’s very pretty,” I admit. Reed grins at me. As he leads me back to the bedroom, I notice that lying on the bed is my big suitcase that I’ve never used. I bought it at a yard sale for fifty cents with the idea that once Mitch and I got on our feet we could take vacations.

We never did.

I had such hopes and dreams. Too bad I didn’t realize that I married a madman.

I put my hand on the luggage and Reed clears his throat.

“Katie packed up all your clothes. Your personal items are in a tote on the floor. She put all your hair care shit, toiletries, and junk in the bathroom already. I stocked the kitchen pretty good. So, I think you’re set.”

“You guys didn’t have to do all of this,” I murmur. I love that they’re doing their best to take care of me, but in a way, it just reinforces how weak I’ve become. Why else would they feel the need to do everything for me?

“I even got you one of those wedge things the nurse recommended. That way, you don’t have to lie flat on the bed all the time.”

“Reed, you’re doing too much,” I respond, not wanting him to go to all this trouble for me—I don’t deserve it.

“Callie, I almost lost you.”

“Reed—”

He walks over to me and gently puts his hands on my shoulders. I couldn’t say anything if I wanted to right now.

“My brother almost killed you. I held you in my arms as you stopped breathing, Callie. Please, let me do this. I want to help you. No,” he adds when I start to argue, “I need to do this and I’m begging you to please let me.”

“Reed, I’m not your responsibility,” I murmur, not knowing what else to say.

“I have never viewed you as my responsibility, Bluebird. What I feel for you has always been much more complicated than that,” he says, kissing my forehead gently.

Tears spring to my eyes. I cry so easily right now. “Okay,” I whisper.

“Hey, that shouldn’t make you sad, honey,” he says, and I nod, doing my best to dry my eyes.

I can’t explain it. When I look at Reed, and he says these amazingly sweet, thoughtful, and caring things, all I see are my bad decisions and mistakes.

“I’m okay, just weepy,” I lie.

“How about you get settled and relax a bit and I’ll bring some lunch.”

“I’m kind of tired of staying in bed, Reed,” I respond honestly.

“Okay, then. When you get settled come into the living room. We can watch television and eat,” he suggests. I just nod. I want to tell him that he needs to get back to his own life and let me be. I don’t. I keep quiet—partly because I don’t want him to leave, but mostly because I don’t know what else to say.

He nods, gives me another smile, and leaves me alone in the room. I sit down carefully on the bed. I’m wondering if I will ever feel normal again. Then, I wonder if I could even recognize normal….

CHAPTER 27

Reed

ONE WEEK LATER

You need to let the police handle this, Reed. Mitch has spent his life trying to destroy your life. Don’t let him succeed.

Katie’s words from earlier echo in my head. The local police are nothing but a joke. Until Katie showed them Callie’s letter, I was their chief suspect. Hell, I think I still was until Callie was able to tell them differently. No, I won’t wait for the police. If I do that, Callie might not survive, and I can’t live with that possibility.

I’ve spent a week waiting for Mitch to make his move. I thought sure he would once Callie was released from the hospital. He’s backed into a corner. He didn’t think Callie would survive and now that she has, he knows he only has two options. He can go on the run for the rest of his life like the sniveling coward he is, or he can go out in what he imagines is a blaze of glory. He’s going to strike out at Callie, and I need to stop him from hurting her any further.

That means, I take everything I know about him and use it to find him. I’ve been looking in the evenings while people have been visiting Callie. I doubt she knows what I’m up to, and honestly, I would rather she didn’t. I’ve been casing the places I thought I’d find Mitch at like Joe’s, his drinking buddies’ apartments, and a bunch of other places. I haven’t had a bit of luck, though. Tonight, I’m going to try the next county over. One of his friends—and I use that word loosely—suggested I try some titty bar that Mitch likes to hang out at. He always did like strip clubs and I’m kind of kicking myself because I should have thought of that sooner.

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