She walked because she wanted to. “I can leave, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”
“You could try, and I’ll call Bailey and Joe and tell them about the scars you have on your body and my thoughts as to how I believe you got them. If that doesn’t work, I’ll drive out and tell your family.”
Maggie exhaled. “I’m all right, Fin.” She said the words because she knew his anger stemmed from worry for her.
He didn’t speak, just urged her into a chair at his small dining table. He then went to the kitchen and poured two more mugs of coffee. Hers, he lowered before her with a definite snap.
She sipped and felt his eyes on her.
“I was out for a meal one evening with two of the people I worked in the gallery with. I did some part-time hours there in between art classes.” Her eyes went to Fin’s paintings. “Not that I’ll ever be as good as you.”
“We’re not talking about me.” He sat there as big and unmovable as the mountains outside.
“It was a Friday night, and we decided to try out this new restaurant that had just opened down the road.”
She sipped her coffee, easing the dryness in her throat.
“It wasn’t late, about 7:30 p.m., but we ate early and were going on to meet some of their friends at a pub somewhere. I remember the door to the restaurant opening as I stood to pull on my jacket. He must have aimed at me first. I felt the burn in my side and fell to the floor. I don’t remember much from there. I had a short-sleeved top on, and shattered glass showered me as they opened fire. Amber, one of the girls I was with, fell on top of me.”
She was back there then, remembering everything. The smell of the food cooking, the screams of the people. The blood from Amber seeping into her clothes.
“It’s all right. You’re safe now.” Fin’s hand took hers where it lay clenched on the table. He held it clasped in his. “Tell me everything, Maggs.”
“I-I thought I was doing the best thing not telling anyone. Thought it would be over, and when I came back I would tell you about it one day, and you’d all be pissed, and upset for me, but move on just like I had.”
“But you haven’t moved on, have you?”
“No.” The word was a whisper. “Damn it, Fin, I’m better. Being here has helped, and I sometimes feel stronger. Like that night in the bar.”
“When you waded into that fight?”
“Yes. But then sometimes I’m so scared I don’t want to leave the house.”
“Okay, we’ll get to that. Tell me the rest of your story now, Maggie.”
His voice was slow and steady, and his hand warm around her fingers, so she did as he asked and plunged back into hell.
“I played dead.”
“Lying under your friend?”
Maggs nodded. “I thought if I pretended to be dead they wouldn’t come and finish me off.”
“Christ.” The word hissed out of Fin’s mouth.
“I lay there until they left. Then I rolled Amber off me. I knew she was dead. There was no pulse; I checked. I grabbed a handful of napkins and pressed them to my side.”
“Surely someone in there helped you?”
“Of course. To be honest, I don’t remember much after that. My injury wasn’t life threatening—”
“Bullshit! Anytime you’re shot, it’s life threatening.”
“Okay, yes, you’re right, but compared to some in that restaurant, I was lucky. I couldn’t move far, but managed to reach the man who’d fallen beside me. I stopped the blood flowing from his leg using his tie.”
“Your country girl training coming in?”
She looked at him, saw that the anger was easing slightly and in its place was something softer.
