Page 12 of Holding His Hostage
“Did he hurt you?” Adrenaline pumped into his bloodstream, that need to defend rising up from within.
“Of course not,” she snapped.
“Then where is he?”
“Just because I don’t have my husband with me doesn’t mean he abused me. I would never stay with someone like that. You know me better than that.”
He sure did, and on more than one occasion, he’d regretted not killing her old man for what he’d put her through. But she seemed to be telling the truth, which meant he was overreacting. He nodded. “Right. I just thought… I’m sorry.”
She dropped her arms to her sides. “I’m going to bed.” She picked up her drink. “It’s been a very long day.”
He nodded. “Sleep well.” He watched as she padded to the door on bare feet, her hips swaying alluringly. “First thing in the morning, I’ll run to the bank.”
And you can get out of my life forever.
“Good night, Sloan.” She smiled softly and slipped out of his study.
Sloan squeezed the skin between his eyes, and cursed.
6
Joanne lay on her back beside Fiona in Sloan’s bed, staring at the ceiling. She’d spent two hours on her phone, trying to guess the password to David’s bank account without success, before Googling how long it took for a family to receive a dead person’s assets. While it might not have been the best source of information, every Reddit user agreed it would take a heck of a lot longer than a week.
That’s assuming the money was in his account, which she doubted. She had a hard time imagining straightlaced David stealing a nickel from anyone, but even if he really had taken Bannon’s money, such a clandestine act seemed to require greater effort in hiding the proceeds.
With a sigh, she flopped onto her side, but every time she pressed her cheek into the pillow, all she could smell was Sloan.
Fear for her children’s safety and her residual feelings for Sloan took turns at the forefront of her mind, neither one of which was helping her sleep, though the latter was highly preferable to ponder than the first.
She pulled back the covers and walked to a wide double window, moonlight illuminating the snowfall and white yard below. With a sigh, she leaned her forehead against the glass. She never would have come here if she knew it meant relying on him. He was the one person she couldn’t stand to see her desperate.
He was the only one who knew just how bad things had been at home. Even when she married David, she’d glossed over her childhood with generalizations and platitudes about all she had learned. But Sloan knew the truth, the nitty-gritty of what happened, and to have him be the one to see her back down on her knees was almost too much to bear, especially with him asking questions about her relationship with David.
These past thirteen years, she’d tried not to think of Sloan at all. Usually, she succeeded. She’d been so angry when they broke up, so dejected and hurt, and seeing him again brought her right back to the moment he left. She had loved him with every fiber of her being. He was just having fun.
She sank to the floor and leaned back against the wall, pulling her nightgown over her knees and letting herself remember. Sloan was going to basic training in a week. They’d planned to ask Sloan’s mom if Jo could stay here in the house to finish out her last year of high school, but before they got the chance, Evelyn announced she was going on a whirlwind European adventure.
Jo had listened to the details with mounting anxiety, sharing the occasional worried stare with Sloan across the table. “I could house-sit for you,” she offered.
“Aw, thank you, sweetie, but it’s all taken care of. Louise down at the YMCA has a cousin who needed housing for the summer. I’ve rented it to him and his family, so I’m all set.”
Later that night, Sloan held her cradled against his chest. “So you’ll come with me to basic. Get an apartment. I’m sure you can find a waitressing job out there just as easily as you can here.”
“I won’t be able to afford an apartment on tips.”
“And I won’t be able to help out until I’m through basic, then advanced training and BUDS. You could stay here and get a place of your own.”
“When school starts next week, I won’t be able to work enough hours to afford it.”
“You could drop out, at least for now.”
“Are you kidding?”
He stroked her back. “I don’t think there’s an easy solution.”
She bit her lip. She could think of one that would make all their problems disappear, in addition to making her happy. “We could get married.”
His hand stopped moving. “What, like now?”
