Perfectly Matched. Lois Richer

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СКАЧАТЬ Shay inhaled to regain control. “It’s just...I have no idea how he found my number or knew my new address. I changed phones and moved, but that only seemed to aggravate him. Police traced the calls, but they always led to a dead end. Dom was very careful. When he did call—well, you heard him. He’d taunt me with what he’d do when we were alone—” She gulped and forced her breathing to slow. “Sorry. I still struggle a bit with his—you know.”

      “Abuse.” Nick’s cold, hard word made her flinch.

      “Well, yes.” She exhaled. “I tried a hundred different things. I ignored him. I monitored every move I made to see if I could figure out who he was. I became suspicious of everyone. But I was helpless. I had no idea how to—” Shay paused. It sounded weak and pathetic to say escape, as if she’d been a prisoner. Yet that was exactly what she’d felt like.

      “Shay, that kind of guy preys on people through fear. But he’s gone. You can forget about him now.” He studied her.

      “I know. I will be fine,” Shay said, determined to make it so.

      When she thought about how it all began, she felt foolish. Too well she recalled how the innocent-seeming online friendship had changed into something menacing after Dom had found out she’d given the flowers he sent her to someone else. That’s when she’d started to feel uncomfortable. But she didn’t think of contacting the police until odd messages were left on her voice mail. Crazy, untraceable phone calls showed up on her cell when she went to lunch with her friends or took a break at work. He always seemed to know where she was. But worst of all were his increasingly hateful comments. They seemed to hint that violence could explode if she said or did something to provoke him, and that had scared her into a shivering mass of fear.

      Until Nick, her rescuer, arrived.

      But even after, even when she’d left New York and modeling, it had taken months of intense therapy to attain an occasional night of uninterrupted sleep, free of his voice, his taunts that he would find her when she least expected it. Those words haunted her, so much so that they’d ruined her relationship with Eric, the man she thought she loved. She could barely breathe when his arms closed around her—all she wanted was to run from him. Finally her memories had pushed Eric away and she’d lost what she wanted most—love.

      Still Shay was determined she would vanquish Dom and overcome the terror that he’d planted in her brain.

      Please, God?

      Nick must have read the tumult of emotions in her eyes. He leaned forward, his dark eyes almost hidden beneath his jutting brow, and spoke slowly but with unshakeable resolve.

      “Shay, you cannot spend the rest of your life worrying about whether or not this crazy person will come back.”

      “I know.” She inhaled. “I’m here in Hope to start over. And I’m really trying. It’s just—I can’t seem to forget the ugly things he said.”

      “You will.”

      “Can you imagine if anyone besides you had overheard his words to me?” Her cheeks burned. “I would have felt so ashamed. The things he said—” She couldn’t go there. Not with Nick watching her. “I’m ashamed that I couldn’t stop him on my own.”

      “You did the best you could, Shay.”

      “Did I?” She shook her head. “I wonder about that now.”

      “Why do you doubt yourself?” Nick demanded.

      “It would have been better if I’d told more people about him.” Keeping her secret had weighed heavily. Even Eric hadn’t known until that last, horrible date, and by then he didn’t want any explanations—he wanted a girlfriend who showed her love, not some shrinking violet afraid to let him even kiss her cheek. But tonight, with her friend Nick, it felt good to talk about what she’d kept hidden for so long. “But I was worried that stories would leak out. I had sponsors and a lot of media attention then.”

      “I remember you came out in support of that kids’ charity around that time, too,” Nick said. His brown eyes gleamed. “Just getting to share a cup of coffee with you made me feel like I’d won a triathlon.”

      “Silly.” She smiled at him but felt compelled to keep explaining. “My agent was afraid that if I went public, it might have brought more weirdos out of the woodwork.”

      “Too bad he didn’t try to stop the jerk.” Nick’s grim face expressed his opinion.

      “My agent was a she,” Shay protested mildly, warmed by his caring. “And she’s the one who first insisted I call the police. That didn’t help, so I did the only thing I could think to do and pretended everything was all right.” She made a face. “But eventually I couldn’t pretend well enough. I knew Dad had always wanted me to reach the top but he was gone and I was scared and lonely so I decided it was time to move on, to fulfill my promise to join Jessica’s clinic. And now here I am.” She was not going to tell Nick about her crippling panic attacks—he didn’t need to know everything.

      “I’m glad you’re here.” His brown eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled.

      “Thanks.” Her heart gave a bump at his kindness. “Anyway, that brings me to the reason I asked you to come tonight.”

      “Maggie. Yeah, I wanted to talk to you about her, too. You go first.”

      “Okay. Well, I met with her doctors this morning. They asked me to start on her therapy immediately.” Shay wasn’t sure how well Nick understood what Maggie’s future would entail so she proceeded cautiously. “Has anyone said anything to you about her progress?”

      “The doctor today said Maggie isn’t doing as well as he’d hoped, but I don’t know exactly what that means.”

      “Maggie’s internal injuries have healed very well, according to the reports,” Shay began. “Though her leg muscles were badly damaged when she was crushed inside the car, the surgery appears to have been successful. Yet Maggie hasn’t regained her strength.” Shay studied his face. “You must have noticed that.”

      “She can’t bear her own weight yet, if that’s what you mean.”

      “She should be able to do that by now, Nick. In fact, Maggie should be walking.” Shay reached out and touched his fingers, hoping that would ease what she was about to say. But she had to draw back or risk exposing her anxiety. “The fact that she can’t even stand is a bad sign. It means she’s losing her mobility much faster than anyone thought.”

      “My medical knowledge wouldn’t fill a teaspoon, Shay. Talk to me plainly and bluntly,” he demanded.

      “Unless Maggie regains her mobility soon, there’s a strong possibility she will never walk normally again.” Shay watched horror fill his face.

      “But she does exercises,” Nick protested.

      “Your mom does them with her?” Shay waited for his nod. “All the time?”

      Nick’s face altered.

      “I’m guessing she skips them sometimes because Maggie says they hurt too much.” From the look on his face Shay knew she was right. “Your mom probably hasn’t felt able to make the long, twice-weekly drives to Las Cruces for therapy either.”

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