Page 9 of Holding His Hostage
Her hand trembled, her stomach rioting against the food she’d just swallowed. “That doesn’t really help me.”
“Anything I can do?”
“Uhm…” She would rather ask the devil himself for a favor, but it’s not like that was an option. She bit her lip.
He leaned back. “I haven’t seen you in thirteen years, then you show up on my doorstep at one in the morning. Gotta be something.”
“I thought your mom would be here. She sent me a card.” He furrowed his brow, and she wondered if he knew David was dead. She’d been hoping they could stay here, but now that plan was all shot to hell. She had a little more than two hundred dollars in cash and hadn’t thought to use her bank card before she left town. Now she was afraid of leaving a trail. “I need help.”
“Name it.”
“Money.” That was the least of it, but it was certainly a start. Running away with a family of four didn’t come cheaply.
“How much?”
“A few thousand.” She looked away, eyes stinging as she desperately tried not to cry. What must he think of her?
His chair scraped the wood floor as he stood. “Cash or check?”
“Aren’t you going to ask what for?”
“You wouldn’t be here unless you need it.” He opened a cupboard and returned with a checkbook.
“Cash would be better.”
He closed the checkbook and tossed the pen on the table. “I can get it in the morning when the bank opens up.”
The movement caused the sleeve of his T-shirt to shift, revealing a line in the middle of his bicep where the color changed by several shades. She stared at it, trying to make sense of what she was seeing.
He lowered his arm and raised his sleeve, revealing the point where a prosthetic arm joined his body. She sucked in air. “What happened?”
“Kandahar. Do you have someplace to stay?”
“My kids are in the car.”
The air seemed to shift, the time and experience that separated them now living, breathing forces in the room.
“How old are they?”
“Fiona’s four, Lucas is seven, and April’s eleven.”
“You can stay here. All of you.”
She opened her mouth to object but stopped herself. It was a big house, with plenty of room for them all if they shared. The kids would love a clean bed as much as she would, warm blankets and fluffy pillows. She swallowed what was left of her pride. “Thank you.” An awkward silence settled between them. “I really appreciate this, Sloan.” She stood up. “Fiona’s asleep. Where should I put her?”
He stood, too. “Anywhere’s up for grabs. I’ll take the couch so you can have the bedrooms.”
“You don’t need to do that.”
“Come on, Buckley,” he said, using her maiden name. “You look like you’ve been through the war. It’s just a couch.” He grinned.
“Thanks for pointing that out.” She returned the smile. He’d always had a big heart. She’d nearly forgotten what it was like to be on the receiving end of so much generosity, and she was getting choked up. “I’ll just grab the kids.”
She hustled out the door and back into the cold, climbing into the driver’s seat and turning off the car. “Come on. We’re staying here tonight.”
Lucas was in the backseat. “This place looks haunted.”
“It’s not haunted,” she said, knowing full well Sloan’s mother would probably disagree. “Grab your things.” She got out and opened Fiona’s door, unbuckling the sleeping girl and picking her up, Jo’s back insisting she stop lifting the girl soon.
