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“Of course, there isn’t.” The strange man cautiously took a step over the threshold—but the act seemed more monumental than that. A visual representation of how the tides of this silent battle were turning. With a shrug, he tapped his wrist, though Loren saw that he wasn’t wearing a watch. “Time is ticking.”
McGoven sighed. Then he turned to face her. His eyes went to her chest, avoiding her gaze. “Get your stuff.”
Those three simple words sliced through her like knives.
“W-What?”No, a part of her pathetically whined. “No,” she whispered out loud, surprising herself. This waswrong—her entire body trembled against it.
“Loren.” His tone left no room for argument. “Go upstairs and get your stuff. Now.”
He turned back to the stranger who watched them both with an unreadable expression, and Loren stumbled up the first few steps.No.The thought screamed through every nerve and muscle. She couldn’t leave him. Her stomach lurched at the prospect, her throat dry.
Finally, she hesitated on the top step.“I-I don’t—”
“GET YOUR STUFF!”
She tore into the hall, driven purely by his anger. Like an invisible hand, it pushed on her spine, forcing her into the bedroom to grab her duffle and shove her clothes inside of it. When she returned downstairs, Officer McGoven was in the kitchen—as far away from her as physically possible.
It was the stranger who stood to greet her at the bottom, his lips contorted into a mirthless smile. Whatever silent argument had waged between them, McGoven had soundly lost.
“I’m Kyle,” he said. “You must be Loren—”
He reached out to help her down the bottom step, but she jerked back without thinking.No!The desperation wasn’t solely hers. She could sense it, and her gaze was drawn to the kitchen where McGoven stood in the doorway, his jaw clenched.
Low, his voice resonated through the very walls to reach them. “You don’t have to touch her.” It wasn’t a suggestion.
Wisely, Kyle stood back, holding his hand limply in the air. “You’re right,” he said, shoving the offending hand into his pocket. “That’sLukka’sjob.”
His tone was intentionally cutting—insinuating something…
But what?
Officer McGoven’s tight frown gave nothing away, but he shifted, keeping his focus on the man’s visible hand.
“We should go,” Kyle suggested, inclining his head toward the partially open front door.
Through the crack in the doorjamb, Loren could tell it was raining with a vengeance, reducing everything beyond the porch to a shapeless blur.
“If we leave now, we might be able to make it into the territory before midnight,” Kyle added.
Six hours from now, according to the clock built into the coffee maker.
“Whatever,” McGoven hissed. “Go now.”
Kyle took a step and paused. Chuckling, he nodded to Loren. “I think you might have to tellhertwice.”
Loren flinched as a pair of gray eyes swiveled her way. His lips parted, and she braced for the sound of his voice. “Loren—”
“No!” The word tore from her throat. “No,” she repeated, rocking on the balls of her feet. A rush of adrenaline fueled the disobedience. He was wrong—she couldn’t go. Every muscle in her body told her to stay here. With him.
“Please. I d-don’t want to go.”
The man, Kyle, gave her an odd look—but he wasn’t her focus. Just McGoven.
His upper lip pulled back from his teeth as if it pained him to deny her. And it did. She could feel it. “Go with him. It’ll be okay. You’ll be safe.” His tone was gentler, though unflinchingly firm.Shoo.
“No,” Loren whispered. Being abandoned by her mother, and rejected by her father had hurt, but this…
The pain tore at her. Torethroughher.
