The door clicks closed, and Sarah and I are left in silence.
Her gaze drifts up to mine. “You sure about this?” The hesitation in her question rubs against every one of my nerves, standing on edge.
I nod once, and she laughs as if she knows it’s a complete lie. It is because the only thing I’m one hundred percent sure of is that I’m very afraid. I’m scared of a lot of things, but the fear that hits the hardest is what if, once they are in my house, I don’t wantthem to leave?
Chapter 16
SARAH
It’s fine. Everything will be fine.
My brain laughs while my stomach hits the dying grass as I haul my life across the street in a duffel bag, backpack, and laundry basket. The big guy next to me is carrying an equal load, while Grover trots beside him, excited for the adventure.
He barks at Brandon, loitering in his driveway and pretending to walk his tiny dog, but watching the reality show taking place on the other side of his fence.
Breathe. Just breathe because what else am I supposed to do?
I have no money and nowhere else to go. The only thing I have is an emergency credit card, which I cannot afford to load up with thousands of dollars’ worth of hotel charges that will take me the next decade to pay off.
I grip the basket tighter, trying to strangle my anxiety and calm my desperate mind so I can think.
Smart. I’m smart and resourceful. Just think, Sarah.
But that’s what I’ve been doing for the past thirty minutes while grabbing the necessities. Nothing. I’ve got nothing.
“If you need anything else, we can run over later.” Slade pushes his front door open, and Grover rushes in to inspect.
I step inside, and Trigger, as I now know him, stands to grab the clothes basket from under my arm. Ollie sits beside Carson, almost on top of him, with a plate of potato chips on his lap.
“Mama, they gots ch-chips.” He smiles, nibbling the edge of one.
Krissy smiles, rocking in the recliner with Frankie passed out on her chest. “She didn’t last long.” She runs a hand up and down Frankie’s back.
I survey the clean, tidy space.
What in the hell am I doing?
I force out a slow breath, adjusting the backpack strap on my shoulder.
“Where do you want this?” Trigger asks.
“Upstairs. The room on the right,” Slade says, bending to unlace his boots.
I kick off my shoes as he picks up the diaper bag and the Pack ‘n Play. I follow him up the stairs to a room with a queen bed.
The room is plain, with gray walls and white trim. The only decor is the three framed sketches of classic cars on the wall. Trig sets the basket on the floor and returns downstairs.
“Do you need help with this?” Slade’s hand rests on the travel crib.
I shake my head. “No, I got it. Thanks. I’ll get it set up so Krissy can put Frankie down.”
He nods and turns for the door. I drop onto the edge of the bed and close my eyes.
How did I get to where my kids and I are staying in a stranger’s house? Well, maybe he’s not a complete stranger, and Krissy lives here, so—
“Sarah.”
My eyes pop open, and he stands in the doorway looking at me like . . .
