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Was that too much to hope for?
“Look at me, Hope.”
Megan opened her good eye, guilt pulsing through her at the lie about her identity. The jig would soon be up, but the longer she could be anyone other than Megan Talbot, the better. She wanted to make it as difficult as possible for Charles to find her. Then, once she had her life under control, she’d reach out to her family.
“Listen to me, sweetheart.” Kat’s expression was gentle. She sat on the edge of the bed and took Megan’s hand in hers. “I don’t know your story, but I can tell you’rewahine toa—a warrior woman. You stay here and we’ll do everything we can to give you that fresh start.”
Megan swallowed, afraid to let herself be happy yet. What if everything came crashing down? Kat didn’t know her, and the man she’d called Tee certainly didn’t trust her.
“Your friend doesn’t want me here.”
Kat waved a hand. “He’ll come around. Tee doesn’t like new people, and he wants to make sure no one takes advantage of me.”
“He’s a good friend, then.”
She smiled softly. “Yeah, he is.” She squeezed Megan’s hand once, then released it. “I’m going to get you an ice pack and some painkillers. Be back in a minute.”
While she was gone, Megan studied the room. Pink walls, white curtains, and a small wooden desk in one corner. It was in the style of buildings from the early 1900s, but recently renovated. The room was charming. She could be happy here. Footsteps padded down the hall, then the door eased open and Kat came back in. She had a bundle of ice cubes wrapped in a towel, and pressed it into Megan’s side. In her other hand was a water bottle.
“There you go. It won’t help as much as it would have when the damage was first done, but it might slow the bruising a little.” She set a pair of tablets and the bottle on the nightstand.
Watching her, Megan did her best not to cry again. Most days she was self-contained, but at the moment, she felt like a faucet that had finally burst under pressure.
“Why are you being so nice to me?”
Kat’s hands stilled.
She continued. “I could be a fugitive for all you know.”
“Don’t be silly. You’re a good person who’s come upon rough times. Everyone needs help sometimes, and I built Sanctuary to be a place where people could get that, whatever their situation may be.” She reached up and, ever so gently, stroked a hand through Megan’s hair.
The tears started to fall again. Such a simple, sweet touch. Charles had stopped bothering to be gentle with her a while back, and these days, she rarely saw anyone else without him around. He wouldn’t let anyone near enough to her to discover his secret.Theirsecret. She couldn’t even visit her family without him tagging along or monitoring her calls.
“Thank you.” Shuffling up in the bed, she took her hot chocolate in hands that trembled. Her split upper lip throbbed as she drank but it was delicious. Rich and creamy. She’d been cold and hollow on the inside, but together the soup and hot chocolate had warmed her. When she’d drained it, she set the cup on the nightstand and lay down again.
“Will you be okay here until morning?” Kat asked.
“Yes,” she murmured, already well on her way to falling asleep. “Lock the door, please.”
“Okay. Sleep well, Hope.”
3
The following day,Tione didn’t see their new guest. He didn’t know whether she even left her bed, other than to visit the bathroom. Kat collected food from the dining hall for her and disappeared into the pink room with it. She also carried a black suitcase from the ancient car in the parking lot—which he assumed belong to Hope—to the guest room. The second day after her arrival, Hope hobbled into the dining hall, her head ducked low. She’d showered, so her hair was no longer matted with blood, and the swelling on her cheek had gone down, her bruises now in hues of blue, green, and yellow. The family of four eating breakfast at one of the round tables stopped and stared.
The little girl pointed and asked, “What’s wrong with that lady’s face?”
Her dad hushed her, but if possible, Hope’s head ducked lower and her shoulders hunched. He watched her slink to the hot water urn and fix herself a cup of tea. While the tea brewed, she scanned the room, her eyes settling on him. Taking her cup, she headed his way, her gaze skittering to the exits.
“Hello,” she said when she stood across the counter from him.
He leaned forward on his elbows and she glanced at his inked forearms. He wondered what her opinion of tattoos was. She seemed the type to find them intimidating. Up close, he could see her eyes were brown. It had been impossible to tell until now.
“Kia ora,” he replied.
“I, uh…” She swallowed, drawing his attention to the ring of purplish-brown around her throat. Definitely finger marks. Whatever her situation, no woman deserved to have someone bigger and stronger choke her. Nopersondid, ever. “I wanted to thank you. For helping me the other night.” Her voice was less scratchy than it had been. Softer. More feminine. “I know it must have looked bad when you caught me trying to get in. Thank you for stopping to listen rather than just kicking me out.”
Frowning, he tried to think of something to say. Her gratitude had caught him unaware. Especially when he’d done nothing to deserve it. He’d chased her when she was already frightened, and hurt her when she was injured—even if it had been unintentional.
