“It’s so strange to think you own all this. I had no idea you wanted to do this with your life.”
Neither had he. Not until everything else had been ripped from his hands. “So, dinner?”
With a laugh, she glanced at the boxes. “I have no idea where my pans and dishes are but?—”
“Let’s head to the cabin. I’ll cook tonight.”
“Oh, I’d love that. Best meal is the one you don’t have to make.” When Grief nosed her hand, she laughed again. “You are a monstrous thing.”
“So is his appetite. C’mon. I’ll make chicken marsala.”
“My favorite.”
Stone smirked. “Me or the food?”
“Like you have to ask.” She clucked her tongue with typical Metcalfe mischief in her blue eyes. “The marsala of course.”
Virginia Rest Stop
Cord sat in the motorcoach, scarfing down a burger while the girls were in the back, showering and being tended by an aftercare specialist.
Lowell sat in a swivel rocker on the other side, slurping a milkshake. “Horvath’s going to come after us hard and fast.”
Noting the door to the back room opening, Cord arched an eyebrow. “Quiet,” he said as a willowy blond emerged. She closed the door and strolled to the front of the motorcoach, cracking open a bottled water as she joined them at the table.
“How’re they?” he asked.
“Shaken, cut up, bruised mentally and physically.” She sipped the water. “I think Brighton might have a concussion. I put a butterfly stitch on her cheek, but the wounds she carries inside will take longer to heal.”
Brighton Buchanan had been trapped in the trafficking nightmare for six years as “Lizzy,” quickly became a Horvath favorite, serviced powerful and rich clients … meaning, she lost parts of her soul every time. That was a lot to come back from. “And Mari?”
She stole a French fry from him and ate it. “She’s relieved to be safe. While Brighton was showering, Mari and I called her parents. They’re going to meet us tonight.”
Cord rapped his knuckles on the table. “That’s good.” For the girl. But it might mess with Lizzy’s head to lose the one place she’d had to focus her energy over the last six months. He motioned to the silver and blue SUV parked across from the motorcoach. “Trooper is here. He’ll escort you both.” He swiped his tongue over his teeth.
“That’d be appreciated. I’ll stay down there for a couple of days to make sure she starts counseling and gets back into school, whether online or in person.”
“I’ve already reached out to Banning down there,” Cord said.
Lowell grunted. “He’s one tough son of a gun. That’s the kind of legal representation she’ll need if she files charges.”
Admittedly, Cord was a little reticent for that ball to get rolling, thinking how it could complicate her plight.
She shrugged. “Whatever she’s up to, but she’ll need time. Like Brighton.”
“As always, we don’t rush them. We’ve been working to pinpoint Horvath’s boss, so anything we can do to stop this from going sideways is great.” Cord finished off the burger. “I’ll get Brighton to safety as soon as she’s cleaned up and ready.”
The aftercare specialist speared him with her blue eyes.
“Don’t say it,” Cord groused, knowing what she was thinking. “It’s nothing I haven’t said to myself, but we have no options.”
“Taking her to him is a mistake. Put her in a safehouse.”
“No way. Horvath is too well connected around here to tuck her in one of our known safehouses. No.” He shook his head and sat back, drinking his soda. “While I know Stone won’t be happy to see her, I also know he’s too decent of a guy to turn her out.”
“Won’t be happy? To him, she destroyed his career and life—that’s like a massive firestorm waiting to happen!”
“Maybe, but I stand by my belief that he’s too good of a man to turn her out.”
