Cornered. HelenKay Dimon

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       Chapter Three

      Julia led him through the woods. The trees soared above their heads, blocking the late-afternoon sun and casting a chill over her. Light filtered through the branches and spots of sunshine highlighted parts of the rough terrain, but for the most part they had to rely on her sense of direction as a guide.

      As a kid she’d used the forest area as a playground. There she could hide from her father’s alcohol-fueled rages and all the yelling. She’d breathe in the scent of the wet ground mixed with pine and be surrounded by calm, if only for a short time.

      Being there now qualified as the exact opposite of calm. Her stomach tumbled and her nerves jingled, making her jump at every little sound. The chirping birds and the swishing as the wind blew the leaves around, usually soothing, just had her twitching.

      Cam walked next to her, keeping their pace brisk. Every time she stumbled over roots or overturned rocks, his arm shot out and he steadied her. She appreciated the assist but really just wanted to get on a ferry and head for Seattle. Her father’s estate and the selling of the house could wait. She’d figure out the truck and how to remove dead bodies later.

      She shivered at the thought. When her brain hiccuped over the destruction and seeing all that blood, she turned to the very real issue that she had to let someone in authority know. That would lead to questions she couldn’t answer and the possibility of getting in trouble.

      But the police could question her in her small apartment back in her Belltown neighborhood, because she was officially done with Calapan Island. This time forever, because nothing and no one bound her there now.

      The place was gorgeous but had never been anything more than a scary death trap for her. That used to be metaphorical in many ways; now it was literal. She’d had to walk over dead bodies with her backpack on her shoulders to get out of her father’s old house.

      But really, right now she needed something to take her mind off all the terror and violence. Mr. Tall, Dark and Oh-So-Good-Looking beside her needed to step up and help on that score.

      “Say something.” She issued the order and then went back to stepping over mounds of this and that on the ground.

      He shot her a side glance before returning to his never-ending scan of the area around them. “Your shirt is bright purple.”

      Not exactly what she’d had in mind, but the comment was potentially annoying and right now she’d take that over noticing his firm jaw and general hotness. “You’re critiquing my wardrobe?”

      “I was hoping you’d pick something that blended in.”

      A solid response, but not a request she could make happen. “Every shirt I own is a bright color.”

      He looked at her again, but this time his gaze lingered. “Why?”

      “Because I’m tired of blending in.” She’d spent her entire youth trying not to draw her father’s attention at the wrong time. Since he drank almost nonstop, that had turned out to be always.

      But she was an adult now and refused to be defined by her father’s issues. She just wished she’d been stronger on that point and had confronted him before he fell out of his boat, hit his head and died. His death left her with a mix of guilt and regret and more than a little bit of anger over all she had lived through and the baggage she still carried around.

      Cam shrugged. “I thought you picked it because you looked so good in bold colors. They suit you.”

      Her sneaker slipped and she lost her footing. One wrong step and she turned her ankle as she bit back a string of profanity.

      “You okay?” He faced her with both hands on her forearms.

      She bit her lip. It was either that or grimace. “Yeah.”

      “Julia, I need to know the truth here.” His expression went blank and his voice grew serious. “I can always carry you, if needed.”

      “That is not going to happen.” She balanced her body against his, digging her fingernails into his arms as she shook out the sore ankle.

      “You sure?”

      “It’s just a twinge.” One that made her vision blink out for a second and her head spin.

      When she moved her foot to the right, pain screamed through her. She’d done this a million times. Years ago she’d stopped running because of weak ankles. Well, that and because of her absolute hatred of running. But she knew the pain СКАЧАТЬ