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“An independent woman,” Fallon smiles.
“Or just too scared to trust anyone,” I let a heavy sigh roll off my chest.
His humor fades as he looks at me, brows furrowed into a deep frown. “He hurt her, didn’t he?”
I nod. “Miley, too. The girl has a visible bruise on her arm.”
I see the muscle ticking in his jaw despite the growing black beard. I can almost hear the wheels turning in his head as he imagines ways to rip Daniel’s guts out with his bare hands. If there is one thing my brother is horrifyingly quick to respond to, it’s violence against women and children. He even scares me, sometimes, with his emotional intensity.
Though I can’t blame him. I’d break Daniel’s face if given the chance but I’d stop there. I’m not sure Fallon would.
“They’re not leaving the grounds unaccompanied until he’s arrested, right?” I give him a reassuring nod. “The three of us are all on the same page. And Avery doesn’t seem to be in any rush, either. Then again, given what she’s been through, I reckon she welcomes the reprieve. The girls are being well taken care of, Helen loves them.”
“Good.” The shadow of a smile crosses his face.
A man suddenly comes into the garage, politely clearing his throat and prompting the both of us to turn around. He’s tall and lanky, in his late twenties or early thirties, clad in jeans and a plaid shirt. His Timberland boots have seen better days, and he’s got oil stains all over his hands. I take a moment to register his features, something feels a little off. Brown eyes that are meant to be warm and friendly, but his gaze feels sharp and apprehensive. There’s a cut healing above his right eyebrow, surrounded by a nasty-looking bruise. His eyebrows are dark brown, but his hair is bleached blond and cut short. He wears black-rimmed glasses, he’s clean-shaven, and slightly tanned.
Not the kind of man I typically see in the middle of a Nebraskan winter.
“Can I help you?” Fallon asks, his tone flat.
“Hey, there,” the man replies with an awkward smile. “Um, my car broke down. I was hoping I could get it fixed.”
There’s a southern twang in his speech. It’s not over the top, but the drawl is strong enough to help me identify him as a Louisiana native. My job frequently requires me to quickly scan and analyze everyone I meet—especially complete strangers. And with an abusive ex-husband on the loose, I find myself paying more attention to such details.
“Where’s the car?” Fallon asks.
“It’s at the corner of Mash andFifth, sir. I think it needs to be towed,” the man says. “I’m Randy. Randy Johnson. I just moved to Hershey. I was driving around, lookin’ for a job, and that ol’ Beetle gave up on me.”
“That’s alright,” Fallon replies. “I’ll come down with my truck and pick it up for you. We’ll have a look and see what’s what, and then I can tell you whether it’s worth saving or not.”
“Oh, I sure hope she’s worth saving. I’ve had her since college, and she ain’t been nothin’ but faithful to me, I swear,” Randy says, sounding rather disappointed. “I can’t afford a new one, either. Not until I get a job.”
“Let’s see what’s wrong with it first,” Fallon says, then looks at me. “I’ll see you later, then.”
“Thanks again,” I tell him.
I give Randy a slight nod. He smiles, his gaze briefly dropping on my sheriff’s badge and uniform before he shifts his focus back to Fallon. My brother tends to overwhelm anyone he approaches with his sheer bulk and size. It’s kind of funny, and I hold back a smile as I walk past Randy and head back outside. It’s supposed to snow again tonight, though I’m hoping it won’t be as bad as the blizzard that brought me Avery and the girls. Until we catch Daniel, undrivable roads on account of snow and ice are a big issue. I only hope we track the fucker down soon.
6
Avery
Iwatch the girls as they play outside in the snow with Helen. They’re running around in the front garden, hiding behind snowy hedges and throwing snowballs, while I sit in the study and go over the newspaper classified ads, looking for remodeling jobs. I’ve circled a few that sound good enough for a rookie like me, though it does infuriate me that I put my design career on hold because of Daniel. I would’ve been so much farther ahead if only I’d listened to my instincts more.
Then again, that was always his purpose, to keep me down and anchored to him, depending on him for everything. My freedom has come with a price, and it’s a steep one, but I am willing to pay it thrice over if that’s what it takes for me to retain my dignity and be able to take care of my children. Miley and Annie deserve a good mother, and I intend to be just that.
The sound of incoming, uneven footsteps has me looking up from the classifieds just in time to see Luke walk into the study with a bag of takeout food. It smells amazing—I catch a hefty whiff of chicken and onion rings, among other savory flavors. “I figured you could use a break,” he says, smiling softly.
He looks dashing in his dark grey suit, his surfer blonde hair combed into a tight bun. I guess this is his business look, and I like it. I really don’t know that much about him. Luke doesn’t talk that often, although he’s been smiling more. I hope he’s warming up to me. There’s something about him that fills me with a strange sense of peace and comfort. I feel safe when he’s around, much like I feel with Kellan.
“You brought me food,” I reply, genuinely surprised. “You shouldn’t have.”
“Should I have let you starve instead?” he chuckles, then proceeds to sit on the sofa as he removes each box of still-steaming-hot food from the bag, placing each on the coffee table. I join him with a bright smile as he steals glances at me with each movement of his hands. “I needed to eat, too, so I thought we could share. It’s from Macy’s, in North Platte. They make the best chicken in the county.”
“The best chicken?” I ask with playful skepticism.
“Second best to Popeye’s,” Luke concedes.
