Page 48 of One Wrong Move
“Killers?” They’d survived.
“I should sayattempted.”
“Okay.” She bit her bottom lip.
He reached over and squeezed her hand. “We’ll be safe there.”
She nodded, unsure which worried her more—the possibility of the men still coming after them or the thought of facing Deckard MacLeod again. It should be no contest. Logically, she knew that. Emotion-wise, it was a whole different story.
Christian closed her door and tapped the hood before heading the few empty spots over to Deckard’s SUV.
Christian pulled out of the lot, and as she moved behind him, the crushing weight of the last twenty-four hours suffocated her. The sun crept higher over the horizon, and she prayed for the constricting force to dissipate, but it only pressed harder against her rib cage.
In addition to knowing she was about to face Deckard MacLeod for the second time in twenty-four hours, seeing Adam ... hearing his harsh, mocking words brought all the memories and emotion of the fallout roaring back like a lion.
Tears that had been waiting to fall since she first saw Deckard, and then Adam, dashed her resolve and burst forth in a flurry. It was the first private moment she’d had since, and frustration consumed her. She’d let Deckard—and Adam—get to her in a matter of seconds. Felt knocked back a year in an instant. Everything awful oozed around her. Memories of unheard claims of innocence and hot shame sifted through her.
She prayed Christian couldn’t tell she was crying if he looked in the rearview mirror, but best to get them out and done before they reached the ranch. She refused to cry in front of Deckard MacLeod.
Her cell rang. Who was calling so early? It could go to voicemail. But if it was about the case somehow...?
Sniffing, she swiped the tears from her eyes and glanced at the number. Harper.
Before she could answer, her voicemail kicked in and the call dropped. Probably for the best. If they talked, Harper would know something was wrong, even if she managed somehow to keep hervoice level. Harper just had a way to get to the bone and marrow of a person.
Her cell rang again.
She straightened her shoulders and took a stiff breath.You’ve got this.She’d mastered pretending she was okay and that nothing was wrong. “Hey, Harp,” she said as happily as she could muster, but it was a pitiful attempt.
“What’s wrong?”
She dropped her head, her hair spilling across her shoulders. Of course, Harper would see right through her. “It’s just been a day....”
“I know, honey. And that’s why I’m surprising you.”
“Surprising me?” She straightened and caught a glance at herself in the rearview mirror.Lovely. Black mascara lines tracked down her cheeks in dark rivulets. She attempted to swipe them away but only managed to make wide, inky smudges across her cheeks.
“I’m on the way to you now. I got a call from ICRC yesterday. They’ve delayed my trip for at least a week, so I have time to burn. I should be there in forty-five ... an hour at most,” Harper said, as if her driving up from Albuquerque for a visit was already planned.
“It’s sweet of you, but—”
“I’m already on the way.”
Of course she’d waited to call until she was on the way, so Andi would feel like a heel telling her to go back home. “Look, I appreciate it, but—”
“I know this is a difficult time for you, so I say we have some girl time. Maybe hit a spa for some pampering. Take a hike.”
“I’d love to, but I’m in the thick of a case.”
“No worries. I’ll stay out of your way.”
Andi nearly chuckled. With Harper, that was impossible. “I’ll just feel bad leaving you alone while I work.”
“Alone doesn’t bother me.”
It never had. Harper’s independence was fierce, her boldness unparalleled, but she supposed that’s what made her best friend the perfect volunteer for the International Committee of the Red Cross.
“You know me. I can find plenty of things to do. And we can hang out when you’re not working.”
