“Nobody asked you to follow me the first time.”
“Nope, and I sure as shit won’t do it again. Get out of my truck, Earnshaw.”
She glances toward the house. One tense, fearful glance. Immediately she shutters the expression, throws me a malicious glare, and hops out of the truck. She eases the door closed instead of slamming it, like I expected. She’s scared of something in that house. Doesn’t want to make too much noise.
At that realization, every bit of my irritation with her disappears. I’m out of the truck in a blink, striding after her toward the porch. “Earnshaw, stop.”
“Go home, Heathcliff.”
“I can see you’re scared, okay? Hold up! Are you safe here? Do you want—” But I can’t invite her home with me. She’d be even lesssafe at the Grange.
I take the three porch steps in one stride, and when she turns around, I’m right there. She’s in my space, I’m in hers, and I can’t fucking breathe.
“I said, go home,” she hisses. “Leave, before he realizes you’re here.”
“He?”
The front door opens, and a huge man fills the space. He’s got muscle, not just paunch—a real brawler type, even bigger than Hindley. Drunk off his ass, too. And just my luck, he’s got a shotgun.
“You Cathy’s date?” he slurs. “I thought she was goin’ out with that Edgar Linton.”
“Oh, um, yeah…Linton’s car got a flat, so I brought her home.”
“Good Samaritan, eh?” Mr. Earnshaw watches me with narrowed eyes, his thumb stroking the stock of the shotgun. “What’s your name, kid? How do you know Edgar?”
I square my shoulders. “I’m Cliff. A friend of his from high school.”
“Cliff?” He snorts. “Dumbass name. I got a nose for trouble, Cliff, and I’m smelling it all over you. So tell you what…why don’t you get your ass off my porch before I punch you full of holes?”
“Dad, no!” Cathy steps forward, right into the firing line of the gun. “Cliff is harmless, really. I had such a nice time tonight—don’t spoil it.”
“Nice time, eh?” Her dad hoists the shotgun again and racks it. “You best git, boy.”
Any other time I’d charge him, let him have it, teach him not to frighten his daughter like this. But she’s still standing between me and her dad. I can’t risk her getting hurt.
“Of course, sir.” I hold up both hands and back away, down thesteps.
“I don’t like you, Cliff,” slurs Mr. Earnshaw. “I see you ’round here again, I’ll put a bullet in you. Probably more ’n one. I’m friends with the sheriff, see? He’ll understand that a man’s got a right to defend his land and his daughter’s virtue. Get inside, Cathy.”
“I’ll go in,” she says calmly. “After Cliff leaves.”
“Hear that,Cliff?” barks Earnshaw. “Go on now.”
“You have a good night,” I say through gritted teeth.
I turn my back to him and force myself to walk to the truck, my spine and shoulders prickling with the awareness that they could get spattered with buckshot any second. It takes everything I’ve got to climb into my truck, drive away, and leave her there with him.
She has lived with him for years and he hasn’t done her permanent harm. She’ll be all right. I have to believe she’ll be all right.
But this is just one more reason to accelerate the plan I set in motion tonight. I’ve got to get away from here.
And I’m going to take Cathy with me.
9
Cathy
I haven’t been to the beach in ages. Too crowded, and there’s nowhere to run if I need to mourn, except into the ocean, of course, but families on vacation tend to frown upon girls standing in the waves, screaming and weeping.
