Freefall. Jodie Bailey

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      THREE

      The lid to the trash can thumped into place, and Cassidy whacked it with the side of her fist for good measure. She’d spent the sleepless predawn hours sorting through papers and setting her office in order. While the cleaning bug gripped her, she boxed everything she could find to donate to charity and bagged what was left for a trip to the landfill.

      She stared at the bags and shoved her bangs off her forehead. This purge should have happened years ago. Now the accumulated junk, coupled with angry energy that fueled a full summer cleaning spree, meant she’d need something bigger than her SUV to get all of the usable items to a donation site.

      The low hum of an engine drew her attention to the road. As if her thoughts had solidified into physical reality, a gray late-model pickup stopped in front of the house. Adrenaline tingled her fingertips at the sight of the vehicle, but it surged on a bullet when Shane climbed out of the cab. The dark jeans and forest green T-shirt he sported today proved it wasn’t just the uniform that made the man.

      Cassidy swallowed twice before her voice agreed to cooperate. “You have trouble with the words stay away?”

      Shane stopped halfway between the truck and the house. His stance spoke of uncertainty. They’d known each other since high school, were together from the first day they met in English class until the day he walked out of her life, and the only other time she’d seen his confidence crack was the day he’d asked her to marry him.

      She bit her lip and glared at the sky, shoving the memory of a mountain breeze and a diamond ring into the deepest well of her soul.

      “Cassy, we need to talk.”

      “No, we don’t. I’m confident you’ve got nothing new to say.” She yanked her hands from her hip pockets and brushed them together before planting them on her hips. “Know what? I’m too tired to talk. I spent the past few hours cleaning the mess you made upstairs.” She tilted her head toward the line of garbage bags against the wall. “You’d better hope whatever it was you were looking for isn’t in there because it’s out the door this afternoon.” Turning her back on him, she stomped into the garage. Good riddance to bad rubbish. The corner of Cassidy’s mouth twitched. Her grandmother’s favorite brush-off had never been so appropriate.

      “You’re still angry?”

      Without asking for permission, her feet planted and refused to take another step. Her spine went rigid, and a flush washed across her face and down the back of her neck. His question forced her to replay her reasons, to drag out old memories, to poke at her emotions and gauge their response. The hurt didn’t take her breath away like it had when she’d signed her name to papers that wiped away the promises of a lifetime, but it was still there, needling her heart. She swallowed hard. “What do you think?”

      When Shane spoke again, his voice was closer. “What do you mean by the mess I made upstairs? I didn’t make it past the kitchen last night.”

      The change of subject jerked her thoughts sideways as she whirled and met green eyes mere inches from her own. Her heart thudded to a stop, then pounded an extra beat. He used to be the safest place she’d ever known, the solid ground she set her feet on. The way he stood so close now made her long for that security again. Try as she might, she couldn’t force the longing aside.

      “Tell me what happened, Cassy.” Shane’s voice rumbled low and played a melody on her heartstrings. She wasn’t sure if he was asking about what happened upstairs or about what happened between them. Whichever it was, this was a song she didn’t want to hear.

      With more effort than she’d ever had to exert in her life, Cassidy stepped back and put a good six feet between them. “You trashed my office. Why? After all this time, what could you possibly be looking for?”

      Shane ran his hand along his jaw, and his eyes flashed. “It wasn’t me.”

      “Sure it wasn’t. Some mythical dragon stormed into my house, and you’re my knight in shining armor.”

      He reached for her, but she backed another step away, her foot whacking the step that led to the kitchen door.

      “I didn’t go upstairs last night, okay?” He pressed his lips together and exhaled through his nose. “I came here to tell you something’s going on in your unit and—”

      “And you thought you’d dig through all of my stuff instead? Maybe take out some ten-year-old aggression on my file drawer?”

      “No.” The word was firm enough to silence her protests and strong enough to tell her he hadn’t bothered to listen to a word she’d said. Some things never changed. “I came here to talk some sense into you and instead found the guy who torched that kid’s car in your parking lot.” When she opened her mouth to speak, he took a step closer and buried her planned protest under his words. “Short and sweet, he’s the one who was upstairs going through your stuff.”

      “And I suppose you threw down a fight with him in the kitchen and that was his blood I had to scrub off my floor last night? Please.” Cassidy held up her hand to stem the flow of lies. “Surely you don’t expect me to believe that. To begin with, Anderson’s car blew up because he knows nothing about mechanical modifications. Now tell me, which movie did you steal your story from?” She rubbed her temples with her fingertips, overwhelmed by his reappearance in her orderly life. He brought up too many emotions, too many memories she didn’t need to relive. “Know what? I was thinking last night I let you off too easy. Hiding in closets, Shane? Normal people don’t do that. That’s what stalkers and murderers and guys who can’t let go do. I figured you were none of those things, but now I’m not so sure.” Well, she was sure he was neither a stalker nor a murderer, but she wasn’t so certain anymore about his ability to let her go.

      Shane’s eyes stared at a spot above her head, and she knew from past experience he worked hard to keep his frustration in check. After a second, he eased the left sleeve of his T-shirt to his shoulder and tilted his upper arm toward her. A heavy white bandage peeked out at her. “It’s covering a knife wound. I got it in your kitchen, fighting off the guy who torched the car in your parking lot.”

      Cassidy’s СКАЧАТЬ