Page 20 of Take My Hand


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“Yeah, it’s a…long story.” I pull Margaret forward. “This is Margaret. You got a bathroom she can use?”

She pinches me. “Hi, it’s nice to meet you.” She takes Mike’s hand and gives him a smile. “Excuse Mr. Rude over here—he’s not house-trained, I guess.”

Mike laughs and points her toward the hall bathroom. She rushes off and he ushers me into the kitchen, starting a pot of coffee as I take a seat at the breakfast bar. Mike’s house is seriously nice. He’s worked hard to get where he is, and his job in construction keeps him busy and well compensated. I’ve kept tabs on him even when I couldn’t communicate with him, and though I was initially bummed he didn’t want to stick with me and go into the FBI, I was happy he’d found his place.

“Man, it’s been some time.”

“It has, and I’m sorry about that. Work has kept me away,” I say, following his movements with my gaze. He knows I can’t tell him everything, which is why he’s my only friend. He understands.

“Ah, that’s all right. So, got yourself a girl there?”

I hesitate, wishing I were here under different circumstances. For the first time, I wish I could say I did have myself a girl and was just here to visit, though I can’t decide if that’s because of the girl or just my subconscious working its way in.

“Uh, no. Not exactly.” I take my time telling Mike as much as I can. At some point Margaret enters and takes the stool next to mine. Mike pours her some coffee, and I get distracted by the grateful smile she gives him. My admiration gets cut short when Mike’s wife, Jen, enters the kitchen with a baby propped on her hip.

I hop up and give her a hug around the baby. “Holy sh—oops. Uh, I mean, when did this happen?”

Jen laughs. “This is Benny. He happened about five months ago.” Mike comes around and takes his son, gives Jen a kiss, and then holds Benny’s little hand out to me. I grab it and can’t help the smile that takes over.

“He’s adorable,” Margaret says. “I’m Margaret, by the way. I’m sorry to be intruding like this.”

“Oh, don’t even worry about it! It’s about time Liam found a good one!” Jen laughs, and I look up to see the smile slide from Margaret’s face and a look of realization cross her features, followed by a short scoff that only I can hear. It’s in that time that I remember I never bothered to tell her my real name, which wouldn’t be a big deal except for her serious trust issues.

Margaret just shakes her head at Jen. “Oh, we’re not together. Definitely not.” She shyly reaches over for her coffee and sips. Jen apologizes and offers to make everyone some breakfast, then Margaret excuses herself and walks back through the front door.

“Dude,” Mike says, getting my attention. “You didn’t tell her your real name, did you?” Being that he’s my only friend, he also knows the techniques—or lack thereof—I use when getting a date, including my alias. “Damn man. Go out there and make that better.”

I reluctantly make my way outside. She’s sitting on one of the chairs on the porch, staring off into the distance.

“Hey, you probably shouldn’t sit out here,” I tell her.

She turns to give me a frosty look, and I rock back on my heels. “When were you going to tell me your name isn’t Dan? I feel like an idiot.”

Sighing, I try to find a way to phrase what I want to say. “I’m not sure… I’ve been a little more concerned with keeping us alive.”

“Oh my God! You couldn’t take two seconds to say, ‘Oh by the way, I’ve been lying the entire time and my real name is actually Liam’? How hard is that?” She shakes her head. “I slept with you, for crying out loud! Didn’t that mean anything?” She looks like she regrets saying that, and I raise my hands and search for a defense, but she continues talking before I come up with one. “If you think I’m staying here with them, with this family, and putting them in danger, you’re crazy.”

I open my mouth to reply, to tell her Mike is more capable than anyone I know, but she doesn’t let me get in a word edgewise.

“And if you won’t take me with you”—she stands and puts her chest right up to mine, trying to intimidate me—“I’ll go somewhere myself. I’ll take a bus, and I’ll leave.”

I don’t say anything. I stare into her eyes and see the fire burning there, see the conviction that tells me she’s dead serious. It’s hot. I want nothing more than to crush my mouth to hers and say Screw it to the reasoning in my head about why that would not help our situation.

But I don’t. Getting more emotionally attached to her would be a train wreck on top of an already difficult predicament. Instead, I say, “You can’t go somewhere alone. You’ll end up dead.”

“Then I’m going with you.”

Rubbing my jaw, I look out over the field beside Mike and Jen’s house; they don’t have neighbors on that side, just open space. “Fine. You can come, but you’re going to learn how to shoot a gun. I’m not having you out there unprotected.”

For the first time since we left the motel, I see the vulnerability she carries shining in her eyes, but then she straightens up and it’s gone. “Deal.”

She reaches for my hand and I set mine in hers, smirking at her false confidence, both impressed and terrified this chick is gonna get me killed. I didn’t exactly care about her qualifications for shooting when I thought the only reason I would interact with her was to fulfill a need.

Here’s to hoping she’s a natural sharpshooter.

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