Page 48
Story: Long Road Home
He could end up practically dead, hanging from a hook again.
She shivered. “Stay in California.I’ll find him.”
“By yourself?” His low voice rumbled through her. “This isn’t your case. It’s mine, and I need to work it.”
“No.” She couldn’t go through that again. Not long ago, he’d been in the hospital. Since she’d faced down a dangerous man in his room while he wasn’t able to walk. “You’ll get hurt again.”
She knew it wasn’t rational. Just the fear talking.
She expected him to argue, but the line just went dead.
Chapter Fourteen
Kenna gasped awake, tangled in sheets, and sweat. She kicked the blanket off and let the chill air wash over her. Not even a second later, she began to shiver. If she didn’t get up, but stayed all day horizontal like this, maybe her head wouldn’t hurt at all. She could lie here and pretend it hadn’t slammed into the ground when she fell yesterday.
Maybe today wouldn’t feel like three days in one.
She rolled over and reached for her phone. The new RV had become familiar, but she didn’t want to get to the point where she considered it home. Not if it ended up ruined like the others. She’d been shot in her Class C. And the van she had after that was set on fire. Then there was a classic car, and motel rooms. The car drew too much attention.
Maybe Stan Tilley wouldn’t find her in Forrest’s garage.
Then again, if she thought he didn’t know where she lived, she was probably kidding herself at best. Fear would turn her into an agoraphobic person if she allowed it. Even if that didn’t sound like a bad existence since her home had wheels. She could drive wherever she wanted. See thecountry—or even other countries—outside her windows. Order what she needed delivered to her door. Stay where she wanted. Leave when she was ready.
RVing wouldn’t make her feel trapped like her dream had.
Caught. Alone. Jax dead. Maizie gone. Her family destroyed.
Alone was easier. As much as it had been its own kind of hell at times, she’d grown to appreciate the simplicity. Or it was the fact she could control pretty much everything around her when she eliminated the variables.
And then I gave that up to You.
Which meant she needed to pray through the fear and figure out a way to let people into the danger of her world without being terrified by it.
She typed out a couple of texts to Jax, who was probably at his desk already. None of them seemed right, so she left a draft in her messages and got up instead.
Coffee. The morning routine. Some stretches since her neck and shoulders felt like concrete. It made her think of Jax to go through the regular routine. Something he might want to know.
She didn’t send that either.
Nothing she could think of didn’t sound glib, or like she wasn’t dismissing the issue. She’d told him not to come and the call had ended abruptly. Maybe they’d gotten cut off last night rather than him hanging up on her. She figured not, but in this morning quiet where the day hadn’t yet been interrupted with reality, she could believe still.
She sat at the table and sipped her coffee. Halfway down cup two, she called Maizie’s number. The teen didn’t pick up, so hopefully she was sleeping or busy talking with the couple she lived with. Living her life where she was safe, and healing.
She then called the sheriff’s department.
“Kobrinsky.”
She stared into the empty cup, feeling the pull of a frown. “I thought you weren’t working for at least a couple of days.” Why was he at work the day after he’d hurt himself?
“Sheriff is in court this morning,” the deputy said. “So I came in to cover the office.”
He sounded grumpy, which made her smile. “How’s your leg?”
“How’s your head?”
So he was going to be like that? “What about the K-9 handler?”
“Her boyfriend said she should be released in a couple of days.”
She shivered. “Stay in California.I’ll find him.”
“By yourself?” His low voice rumbled through her. “This isn’t your case. It’s mine, and I need to work it.”
“No.” She couldn’t go through that again. Not long ago, he’d been in the hospital. Since she’d faced down a dangerous man in his room while he wasn’t able to walk. “You’ll get hurt again.”
She knew it wasn’t rational. Just the fear talking.
She expected him to argue, but the line just went dead.
Chapter Fourteen
Kenna gasped awake, tangled in sheets, and sweat. She kicked the blanket off and let the chill air wash over her. Not even a second later, she began to shiver. If she didn’t get up, but stayed all day horizontal like this, maybe her head wouldn’t hurt at all. She could lie here and pretend it hadn’t slammed into the ground when she fell yesterday.
Maybe today wouldn’t feel like three days in one.
She rolled over and reached for her phone. The new RV had become familiar, but she didn’t want to get to the point where she considered it home. Not if it ended up ruined like the others. She’d been shot in her Class C. And the van she had after that was set on fire. Then there was a classic car, and motel rooms. The car drew too much attention.
Maybe Stan Tilley wouldn’t find her in Forrest’s garage.
Then again, if she thought he didn’t know where she lived, she was probably kidding herself at best. Fear would turn her into an agoraphobic person if she allowed it. Even if that didn’t sound like a bad existence since her home had wheels. She could drive wherever she wanted. See thecountry—or even other countries—outside her windows. Order what she needed delivered to her door. Stay where she wanted. Leave when she was ready.
RVing wouldn’t make her feel trapped like her dream had.
Caught. Alone. Jax dead. Maizie gone. Her family destroyed.
Alone was easier. As much as it had been its own kind of hell at times, she’d grown to appreciate the simplicity. Or it was the fact she could control pretty much everything around her when she eliminated the variables.
And then I gave that up to You.
Which meant she needed to pray through the fear and figure out a way to let people into the danger of her world without being terrified by it.
She typed out a couple of texts to Jax, who was probably at his desk already. None of them seemed right, so she left a draft in her messages and got up instead.
Coffee. The morning routine. Some stretches since her neck and shoulders felt like concrete. It made her think of Jax to go through the regular routine. Something he might want to know.
She didn’t send that either.
Nothing she could think of didn’t sound glib, or like she wasn’t dismissing the issue. She’d told him not to come and the call had ended abruptly. Maybe they’d gotten cut off last night rather than him hanging up on her. She figured not, but in this morning quiet where the day hadn’t yet been interrupted with reality, she could believe still.
She sat at the table and sipped her coffee. Halfway down cup two, she called Maizie’s number. The teen didn’t pick up, so hopefully she was sleeping or busy talking with the couple she lived with. Living her life where she was safe, and healing.
She then called the sheriff’s department.
“Kobrinsky.”
She stared into the empty cup, feeling the pull of a frown. “I thought you weren’t working for at least a couple of days.” Why was he at work the day after he’d hurt himself?
“Sheriff is in court this morning,” the deputy said. “So I came in to cover the office.”
He sounded grumpy, which made her smile. “How’s your leg?”
“How’s your head?”
So he was going to be like that? “What about the K-9 handler?”
“Her boyfriend said she should be released in a couple of days.”
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