She widened her gaze. Wasn’t he supposed to be behind bars? Her chest rose and fell. Christopher hadn’t given up on her. He’d realized she was missing. Her rescue was close.
“Zach?” Carl yelled. “What’s all the commotion? I heard sirens.”
“Is Steve with you?” Zach replied. “I’d hate for him to get swept up with Inn nonsense. Some sort of fire or something over there. You know they’d love to pin this on any of us as arson.”
“I’m here,” Steve shouted.
Heavy footsteps clanged against the decking, seemingly from all directions.
“HANDS UP, HANDS UP, HANDS UP,” someone shouted.
“You’re both under arrest for the attempted murder and kidnapping of Ashley Hale Lewis,” Sheriff Hanks said. “You have the right to remain silent…”
The rest of the Miranda rights became background noise.
Ashley screamed and wheeled herself to the door, forcing the cracked plastic to turn.
The door opened, slamming against the wall.
Wide-eyed and with hair standing on end, Christopher filled the doorway.
She collapsed against the seat. “Oh, thank goodness.”
He dropped to his knees, pulling her into his arms.
“Ouch, ouch, stop tugging,” she squeaked. “I’m handcuffed to the chair.”
He pulled back to frown at her arm. “Deputy. Keys for handcuffs,” he yelled over his shoulder.
A youngish man appeared, fumbling with the keys as he knelt behind the chair and twisted the lock.
She exhaled the heaviest breath of her life as the cuffs released. “Thank you.”
The deputy nodded and rose.
Crossing her arms in front of her body, she hugged herself. She didn’t feel any tears in her shirt or bleeding from her adventure through the forest. She circled her aching wrists. She hadn’t been secured for very long, but all of the manhandling on the journey to her supposed demise, followed by the total release of all her adrenaline, left her shaky.
Christopher held out a hand.
For once, she didn’t argue as he played the hero. She was too lucky to discount his actions as showboat behavior. She placed her fingers in his.
He tugged her to her feet and didn’t let go, wrapping her tight. “I thought you were…”
His voice was so low, muttered into her hair, she felt the words in the soles of her feet, the deep vibrations wracking through her. “Dead?” She shuddered. “You thought I was dead?”
He nodded.
“Almost,” she sniggered, her gallows humor resurfacing. “You got here just in time. Saving me again. Just another punchline in the ongoing joke that is my life.”
She hadn’t meant to sound so bitter. Her resolve to make amends in the present crumbled. She was raw, and she couldn’t help herself. She couldn’t shield behind a smile anymore. She’d been locked to a chair. At her most vulnerable, she understood how utterly useless and totally hapless she’d always been.
“What are you saying?” Christopher asked softly, pulling away.
“I’m a joke to you.” She sniffed.
“You’ve never been a joke. You make me laugh. You astonish me with your off-the-wall way of looking at something. But never you.” He tipped up her chin, tenderly holding her face in both hands. Like she was something fragile and precious. “You matter to me. You mattered to him. You were all he thought about, and he knew what I was doing. I never meant to deceive you.”
Her chin quivered. “I guess I’m no saint. I did leave.”
