AllFreeNovel
Share Us
As he exits the freeway, the visor above my head with its lighted pulldown mirror, taunts me. If I look like half the wreck I feel, add another reason for John to be done with me.
I forgo the mirror but slip the band off my hair and run a brush through the dirty mess before scooping it back into the elastic. Pivoting, I find John’s sleepy eyes touch on me.
“You look great, Hollie.” The soft whisper wraps around me.
Walking into the all-night waffle place, our hands brush.
There’s an older man at the counter and a younger guy who looks like an oilfield worker seated at one end of the restaurant. John leads us to a booth in the opposite corner. I drop my purse on the bench and slide in beside it.
A gray-headed woman teeters over in no-slip shoes that are splitting along the sole. Oh, I don’t envy the sore feet she probably longs to soak in a warm tub. She lays down a pair of menus. A small sigh precedes a vague upturn of her lips. “What can I get you two to drink?”
The waitress wobbles away a moment later with our requests. I see her as a sobering peek into the future. Me in thirty years?
When I turn back, John is watching. His brown eyes crinkle above a gentle smile, robbing the bleakness from my moment.
A return smile comes surprisingly easily as I open the menu. Shockingly, everything sounds good.
Once our orders have been scratched onto a ticket pad, quiet takes a seat with us. There isn’t much he doesn’t know about me now. Or rather, not much that will matter more than the blanks my gut-spilling episode filled in. From now on, every time he looks at me, will his mind wander to those dark corners?
He taps his index finger purposefully on the stretch of tabletop between us. “Relax, Hollie.”
He says it with such kindness, the tautness lodged between my shoulder blades eases.
Our waitress delivers our drinks, sloshing coffee over the brim of John’s mug when she sets it down. “I’m sorry,” she grumbles, teeter-turning and grabbing napkins from the dispenser on the next table over. I smile what I hope is encouragingly as she sops the spill up.
John takes a sip, steam wafting up the side his face. He returns the white mug to the table and watches the surface of the coffee inside it. “Can I ask you something?”
Suddenly, the meal I ordered is a questionable decision, because, yes, he’s thinking about things I wish he weren’t. I sigh quietly. This was inevitable. “You’re wondering about the man who..." The word can’t make its way out.
“No!” He glances up sharply, then down again.“Well, it crossed my mind, but...”
It’s a natural curiosity, especially for a law enforcement guy. In fact, I have no doubt that, given the opportunity, he’ll do his own research if I’m not the one to tell him.
I fix my gaze on the smooth cubes in my glass. “As I said, I didn’t tell anyone what happened for weeks.” I shrug. “Foolish, I know, but I believed his threats about reporting it, and besides, pretending everything was a bad dream was easier. Of course, I couldn’t hide the pregnancy forever, and then my parents insisted on calling the police. I could tell they were skeptical…”
Frown lines tug at John’s features. Yes, their disbelief hurt, but I’d set myself up for doubt.
“I honestly believe they might have dismissed my story altogether if it weren’t for the scars…”
John’s eyes follow my hand to where I scoot aside the sweatshirt’s neckline.
Fingering the damaged spots I hid for weeks, I examine the drink station where our waitress filled my glass. The cuts were a threat to be quiet when he arrived and incentive to stay quiet after he left. “I’m sure the case would have gone nowhere, but about a year later, a detective called and requested a DNA sample from Jacob. There had been a similar attack...”
John’s palm stills my jittery hand, infusing courage.
“When Jacob was in kindergarten, they called again. They’d linked my assault to three others and had a suspect in custody. He was a neighbor. The guy lived a block away. He used to sit on his front porch and talk to me when I took the dog for a walk.” I meet John’s eyes. “Dad always used to get upset with me for being too friendly with people.” The smile I try for physically hurts. “Believe it or not, I was quite outgoing back in the day.”
Pain streaks through John’s expression despite my lame attempt to deflect. His hand squeezes mine hard. “If I could change things, Hollie…”
“You and me both.” I squeeze back. “But thank you.” I turn my palm over, taking the initiative to link our fingers. It feels right. “Anyway, the trial was a nightmare, but in the end, he was convicted and received a ten-year sentence.”
“Ten years?” John looks about to come unglued. “You have got to be kidding! He’s out now?”
I half-smile. “No. Thankfully, he was convicted on two of the other assaults and the judge ordered the sentences served consecutively.”
John’s scowl is tinged with a thirst for blood. Maybe it’s twisted, but his horror and indignation warm me.
I slant my head. “I wonder…”
