Jessie curled into a ball and hid in the corner of the fort in the oak tree that hung over the shed.
She’d almost raced right past the giant tree in her haste to flee from Patrick. Then she’d remembered Robert taking her there to hide from Riley and Paige, his little sister and cousin, who kept pestering Robert to take them out on the lake.
She prayed Patrick wouldn’t spot the old, yet sturdy, structure in the dark.
Trying to stay calm despite the adrenaline coursing through her veins screaming, “Run!” she focused on taking steady breaths.
“Jessica!”
She gasped at Patrick’s harsh tone.
“I know you’re out here. It’s time to come home, honey.”
Jessie squeezed her eyes closed and held her breath. She clenched her jaw so Patrick wouldn’t hear her teeth chattering.
His footsteps crunched on the rocks and twigs in the yard. Then his voice came from directly below her, as though he knew exactly where she’d hidden. “Come on, Jessica. Did you really think you could just come home and pick up where you left off?” The derision in his voice sent an additional chill racing through her. “I saw your painting. I’m afraid you’ve lost your touch, honey. Did you honestly think you still have that kind of talent?”
Patrick went quiet and Jessie tried to tell herself not to listen to his mind games, but it hit too close to home. As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t pretend the past five years hadn’t happened. Why did she think she could still paint when she’d done nothing to foster her talents over the past few years?
A crash came from inside the shed, and Jessie jumped. She clamped her hand over her mouth again, stifling the urge to scream. Her heart pounded so loud she feared it would give her away.
Patrick’s cursing grew louder as he exited the shed. “Come on out, Jessica! I just want to talk.” A tight edge filled Patrick’s voice, and Jessie knew talking was the last thing he intended to do. “We have some things to iron out.”
Jessie curled a little tighter, wishing she could make herself invisible.
“The sheriff isn’t here to save you.” He gave a derisive laugh. “I can’t believe you came running back to him. There’s a reason he let you leave, Jessica. You weren’t worth his time and effort.”
Patrick’s words tore at her. She wanted to tell him they weren’t true, but she couldn’t. And not just because she didn’t want to give away her hiding spot.
“Did you honestly think he’d want you again? You’re a useless, washed up, piece of trash who couldn’t even keep her husband satisfied.”
Jessie pressed her fingers to her ears. Just because Patrick spoke the truth didn’t mean she had to listen to it.
* * *
A weight pressedagainst Robert’s chest, and his stomach plummeted as soon as he turned into the driveway of the cabin.
The blue car parked in front of him was not Sylvia’s.
He shoved his truck into park and fumbled with his seat belt. He couldn’t make his icy fingers work fast enough.
Once free of the blasted harness, he leapt from his truck, not even bothering to turn off the engine. He had to find Jessie and protect her from her lunatic husband.
He sent up a prayer as he ran toward the cabin, unsnapping the holster on his gun as he did so.
Please don’t let me be too late.
He skidded to a stop at the sight of the door hanging ajar. A chunk of the door frame fractured on the floor. His senses went on high alert as his heart raced. He’d be lucky if he didn’t have a heart attack before he found Jessie.
He stepped through the door to find Jessie’s unfinished canvas on the floor beside the easel that lay in a jagged heap. Each leg snapped in two. His adrenalin spiked, and he fought to keep his hands steady as he searched the great room.
The iciness in his veins turned hot as his fear for Jessie shifted to anger at the man who had broken her.
“Jessie!” He spun and looked at the loft.
Nothing.
He swore under his breath. He couldn’t afford to waste time searching the cabin if she was already outside. But he didn’t want to go racing outside if she and Pendleton were upstairs.
