Page 71 of The Way Back Home
Now … now she had nothing. No lies. No made-up stories to cover up the ugly truth.
There was no point. She’d made the decision to go with Josh, knowing what would happen. Thanks to the news crew at the diner, everyone had seen her go willingly after accepting his proposal. She couldn’t cry victim now.
Not that she had then either. She’d learned early on that the people who were supposed to believe you rarely did. Turning their backs, looking the other way, not wanting to get involved—those things were so much easier.
She remembered waking to voices speaking in low tones, a gentle stroking of her hand and soft, murmured words.
Noah.
He’d been there. His voice anchored her, deep and familiar. “Hey, tiger,” he’d said.
Stupidly—foolishly—her fingers had curled against his. She hadn’t meant to. It was instinct. A moment of weakness on her part.
A doctor had been there next, checking her reflexes and range of movement, asking questions she barely had the energy to answer. When he finished and saidhe’d send her visitors back in, she’d told him she didn’t want visitors, especially Noah.
She couldn’t bear for him to look at her.
Not now.
Surely, he’d seen the footage by now. Heard Josh’s on-camera proposal. Watched her walk out of the diner, tucked against Josh’s side. He couldn’t knowwhyshe’d done those things. No one did. Perhaps that was for the best. Better he believed the worst.
And he would believe the worst. Everyone did.
Her chest hitched. A whimper slipped out before she could stop it, along with tears. She let them come.
Turning her face toward the window, she listened to the sounds of life going on outside her door. Somewhere down the hall, someone laughed. Footsteps passed, then paused. She held her breath.
“… just wants space,” a male voice said quietly.
Alex.
“Can’t blame her,” said another. One of the brothers, maybe Brandon. She hadn’t gotten to know them well enough to be able to tell them apart by voice. “She’s been through hell.”
“She’s still in it,” Alex muttered. “But he’s never getting near her again.”
There was a murmur of agreement.
Then the words that made Teagan freeze: “Graner’s in county lockup under federal watch, being held without bail.”
Her lungs deflated in a silent breath. Josh was in jail. Not still out there, biding his time. Not coming after her. Not looking for her.
She closed her eyes.
It wasn’t freedom. Not yet. But it was the closest thing she’d felt to it in years.
She dozed off again, briefly.
When she woke next, the nurse was checking her IV. She asked about pain, about nausea, about the catheter Teagan hadn’t even realized was there until she shifted.
Teagan answered with a nod or a shake of her head, then whispered hoarsely, “Can I get a glass of water?”
“Ice chips only. Doctor’s orders,” the nurse said in a cool, clipped voice.
Teagan took them gratefully, letting one melt against her tongue. When the nurse reached to check the pulse ox on her finger, she said, “There are people outside, waiting to see you.”
“Send them away.”
The nurse studied her for a moment, then nodded. “I can do that.”
