Page 18 of Preying Heart
A rent-a-cop stopped us. “Put that bat down and let the girl go.”
“She’s my sister.” Slade ignored him and pushed by him, but the man was already on the phone calling the police.
A motor is cut, and I jolt with a start. “Where am I?”
“You were having a bad dream.” Heath removes his night vision goggles. “Did your brother kill someone? Is it that bad?”
“No, no, Darrell didn’t die. He had a concussion.” An overwhelming pressure weighs down on me and tears bubble to the surface. “It was my fault. I should have listened to him. I broke the rules and he paid for it.”
“I’m sure it was just a bad dream. You’re okay now.”
Heath helps me from the truck. My knees buckle, and he pulls me to his side, letting me lean on him.
“But no, I’m not. I’m so not okay.” The dam breaks, and the long-held upwelling of tears floods over me. “I should have listened to him. Did as he said. Because of me, he got sent to juvenile hall and started his life of crime, and I got kicked out of the only good foster home I ever knew.”
“Why would the foster home throw you out if your brother did something wrong?”
“I broke their trust, and they were afraid I’d bring a boy home while they were out.”
“Didn’t sound very loving of them after all.” He holds me close and comforts me by stroking my hair. “Hey, you’re safe with me. No one is going to take you away from here.”
I wonder how this man thinks he can keep me safe. I wonder why he’d want to. Or is he only saying what I want or need to hear? The dregs of the dream reappear, and I wonder where Darrell is right now and whether he loved me or only wanted me for the moment. And then I stop thinking because all I want is to be safe.
I don’t know how long I stay wrapped in the arms of a stranger, bawling my eyes out like a baby, so utterly defeated and exhausted. Eventually, the tears dry up and leave me racked with hiccups.
Heath hands me a tissue, and I wipe my eyes, embarrassed yet again at how close I am to losing control all the time.
I let myself be guided up a set of flagstone steps toward a house made of stone. Solid and dark, it’s hidden beneath towering trees and backed by a huge flat-faced boulder.
“Welcome to The Fortress,” he says.
“You promise to keep me safe?”
“Only if you tell me everything you know. Who’s after you. Who you owe. Who your brother owes, and what you’re doing with Congressman Greasley.”
“That’s quite a laundry list. What’s in it for you?”
He pauses before unlocking the steel door, and that’s when I notice how utterly exhausted he is. His eyes are bloodshot, and his shoulders droop. The dark five-o’clock shadow is sprinkled with white, and one of his eyelids twitches.
“Is keeping you safe not enough? If you won’t cooperate, then you might as well turn back now.”
He keeps threatening to turn me away, and I wonder why I’m still following him. My last chance was to go into the town and ask for help. Why didn’t I?
Simply fear. Fear of the unknown. It’s the same devil’s bargain I made all my life—starting with that bully girl in second grade who became my protector when I bribed her with candy. Always looking for someone stronger to hide behind—because I’m weak. I’m pathetic, and I’m scared.
“Okay, then, I’ll tell you, but you’re going to have to tell me something so I know you’re not going to hurt me.”
It’s not like I have any room for negotiations. I’m on his front porch in the middle of nowhere, and he’s holding all the cards. But I’ve learned since grade school that some bullies are more honorable than others.
There has to be a reason I didn’t walk away or run screaming when I had the chance. Heath feels steady and solid—reliable and dare I say, a defender of the weak? I may be imagining things, but there aren’t any creepy vibes shooting from him, and if he wanted to hurt me, he would have done so already.
Unless he’s saving me for the guy who’s going to pay him.
He rubs the back of his neck and shrugs. “Fair enough. Let’s make a deal. You want me to keep you safe, you’re going to have to keep whatever I tell you confidential. Once you step into my home, you do everything on my terms. Got it?”
I’m used to deals like this. Everyone has their price. Every home I landed in had their rules. It’s the “my roof, my rules” principle.
“Agreed, as long as you aren’t going to hurt me or turn me over to someone who will. I’ll need something stronger than a promise. Tell me who you’re hiding from and why you’ll keep me safe. Convince me I’m not making a mistake.”
