Cornered At Christmas. Barb Han

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       Chapter Four

      Kimberly needed to find the right words to get her husba—Mitch motivated to get out of the house and Jacobstown until she was certain the men who’d found her had moved on. Thinking about him in terms of being her husband only crushed her heart more.

      Instead she stood there, mute.

      “My wife is dead,” Mitch said out loud. His angry tone came off like he said the words more for himself than for her benefit. Either way, they scored a direct hit. Guilt was another punch.

      All she could think to do was back away from him, slip past him and dart into the twins’ nursery across the hall. She didn’t flip on the light because her eyes had long ago adjusted to the darkness and she didn’t want to wake the babies yet.

      She knew that he followed her based on the tension she felt radiating from behind her.

      Mitch’s hand gripped her arm as she started toward the set of cribs nestled against the wall. Her heart nearly burst at the thought she would actually get to see them again. Hold them?

      “Stop right there.” Mitch’s voice came out in a growl.

      Reality slapped her in the face. He was about to kick her out. She jerked her arm out of his grasp and whirled around on him.

      “I know what this must look like but trust me when I say you and the babies are in danger,” she said in barely more than a whisper. “If we don’t get out of here right now, a pair of men will show up. And that’ll be bad news for everyone.”

      He stood there and stared at her like he was facing down a ghost. And he was. At least in his mind.

      Mitch stilled and she could tell that she was getting through to him. Angry or not, he’d always been reasonable. Even though she could tell his armor was up and she’d never truly be able to break through it again, he considered what she was saying.

      “Where have you been?” he finally ground out.

      “Around.” As far as answers went, it was awful. But it was also true. And there was no way she was telling him her locations. It would be too easy for him to predict where she went next.

      Mitch stood in an athletic stance and crossed his arms over his solid bare chest.

      “Why?” There was no sign of weakness in his voice when he asked the question. No sign of long nights without her. No sign of the hurt he must’ve felt. His tone was steady as steel now. He was steady as steel. The only thing that could melt steel was a temperature of 2,500 degrees Fahrenheit, and his glare felt at least that scorching.

      He deserved an explanation. There was no time to go into details. She needed to get him to safety and then she could figure out the right words. Everything had careened out of control faster than an Indy driver staring down a wall after veering off course. The wall was coming. The crash was going to be devastating. The only question was how many of the pieces she could pick up afterward.

      “Please say you’ll come with me and bring the babies,” she begged.

      “You’re supposed to be dead. Explain to me why you’re alive and standing in front of me.” His arms crossed tighter over his chest and there was so much anger in his eyes.

      “I can’t right now. But I promise—”

      “Not good enough.” He stood there, being a stubborn mule.

      “Mitch. Come on. Just listen to me,” she started, but he stopped her with a hand in the air.

      Frustration seethed, pouring off him in waves.

      “Forgive me, but I’ve been talking to a headstone for the past eleven months.”

      Those words were daggers and robbed her of breath.

      “I buried your memory and as much of you as I could along with it,” he continued, unblinking.

      Wind blasted the window, rattling the casing. She jumped and sucked in a sharp breath. “We need to go now.”

      “The kids need stability. Being here will give them that.” His lips thinned. “Give me one reason I should take it away from them.”

      He wanted answers she couldn’t give. But asking him to trust her at this point would be a slap in the face.

      Reluctantly, she moved into the hallway, knowing full well he’d follow. Waking the twins would create a commotion and her heart would break if she heard them cry. She also couldn’t risk them drawing attention or covering up the sound of someone breaking in. Words failed her and she wanted to scream. Panic gripped her like a vise, squeezing air from her lungs.

      Mitch was so close on her heels, he almost ran into her when she stopped.

      “People are after me and they’ll use you and the twins to draw me out. I shouldn’t have shown up at the doctor’s office today,” she admitted, both hands out in defense.

      “That was you?” Recognition dawned with the admission but it didn’t help with his anger.

      “I’m sorry, Mitch. I truly am. I made a mistake but I can’t change that now. You and the babies aren’t safe here.”

      “Why not call the sheriff?” He shrugged. Suspicion laced his tone and she completely understood why he’d feel that way even though it hurt.

      “Because in my case that will do more damage than good,” she admitted. The night-light plugged into the socket in the hallway cast a warm glow on his chiseled features. Again she stared into eyes of suspicion and disbelief.

      “I don’t know what to tell you. Sounds like you got yourself into a mess of trouble.” His words came out clipped.

      “It’s so much worse than that. I got you and the babies in a terrible fix. There’s no way out but to run. I need you to believe me, Mitch.” She stared into his eyes, which had hardened toward her. Was she even getting through? Based on his stern expression and closed-off stance, the answer was no.

      This wasn’t the time to back down. “I’m serious, Mitch. Please come with me and I’ll explain everything once we’re out of danger. Trust me when I say men could show up anytime and they’ll outnumber you. They’ll bring weapons.” There were times when she felt like she would always be on the run. By the time she met Mitch, she’d been running for half a year. When the man who raised her had given her a throwaway phone and insisted she try to reach him only using the cell, she’d worried that he might be getting senile.

      The first few calls had gone fine. As fine as they could be with him acting so strange. He’d mumbled about putting her in danger, but he never explained when she questioned him. She didn’t put too much stock into what he said. She knew full well that he was a decent man. She played along while she tried to figure out the next move. Counseling? Support group? Her СКАЧАТЬ