Page 56 of Dark ’N’ Deadly

Jesse was right. Her stepfather would pop a blood vessel if he knew she was shacking up—even temporarily—with an ATF agent.

The good news was that her brother was improving. Before letting that agent drive her home, she’d insisted on visiting Jesse at the hospital. After giving him a quick update on the controlled delivery, she’d warned him about Pritchard. The bad news was that Jesse would have to remain in the hospital for a couple more days, which meant sticking around.

Living with Eric in his house. Alone.

She covered her face with her hands, not certain whether she was on the verge of laughing, crying, or both. There was one point of fact she could no longer ignore. It shouldn’t have been a problem, but with every minute she spent with him, the more her emotions complicated matters.

I’m falling for him.

Those feelings had existed back in Springfield, simmering at a slow burn, only waiting for the match that would light the fuse and blow her sanity to kingdom come.

The truth sucked, because Eric was a man who didn’t do commitment, marriage, or kids, and whose quest for revenge was inextricably linked to her past. Until that morning, she hadn’t known the full extent of how much everything was connected, and she was powerless to disconnect them.

She rolled up her yoga mat then pushed to her feet and repositioned the coffee table in the center of the living room.

Once Eric heard a clear version of her conversation with Pritchard, he’d grill her mercilessly until she’d have no choice but to tell him the truth. All of it. Then he’d hate her and kick her out on her ass. She hadn’t meant to leave the pickup’s motor running, but her inadvertent mistake had given her a reprieve. A temporary one, but all she needed were two days. Then she and Jesse would be long gone.

She dug her fingers into the yoga mat. Ironically, she’d found the first place that finally felt like home, and there was no possible way she could stay there. Here, in Flemington. That’s where Eric was, and she couldn’t bear the thought of being so close and having him hate her, something that was inevitable.

What she ought to do was tell him the whole sordid story, but all that would do was warp the prosecutor’s viewpoint of Jesse’s involvement, and her brother might wind up in jail for a crime he knew nothing about. A risk I can’t take.

She went upstairs, pausing to look at the photo on the wall of Eric with his friends. His murdered friends. Her wallet was almost empty, as was her bank account. There was only one decent thing to do.

Leave.

At least, find another place to stay, somewhere near the hospital. Most of the day, she could stay with Jesse in his hospital room, and when the nurses kicked her out at night, she’d sleep in her car in the parking lot. Surely, any guard who found her would understand her need to be close by.

With her resolve firmly in place, she stormed down the hallway to her bedroom. Not her bedroom, she reminded herself. The room Eric had graciously allowed her to stay in, and the only room in the house with any color. Somehow, he’d known she would like it. If nothing else, maybe she’d leave him with a different perspective on having a little color in his life.

She dropped her yoga mat on the floor then grabbed her duffel from the closet and began gathering her clothes. What she’d brought with her from Springfield lay all over the room, draped on every piece of furniture.

Next, she went to the bathroom and stuffed her toiletries in the bag. She grabbed a towel from the rack and began wiping the counter. When the granite and sink were gleaming and smudge free, sad laughter bubbled up inside her. Given what a neat freak Eric was, he’d be pleasantly surprised at her thoughtfulness. What had she been thinking, that she and Eric could have lived happily ever after?

You pathetic, hopeless dope.

She turned, slowly searching the remainder of the bathroom to make certain she hadn’t missed any of her things. The beautiful, brightly colored silk scarf Eric had bought for her in town draped over another towel bar. The dangly, beaded fringe clicked softly as she tugged it gently from the rack and held it to her breast. It was the prettiest thing anyone had ever given her. She didn’t know if it had come from the heart—Eric’s heart—but she would cherish it just the same. Because he’d given it to her.

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to think about the adorable look on his face as he’d insisted on buying it for her. Whatever his motivation had been, he could see how much she loved it and knew there was no way she could ever afford it.

Tears leaked from her eyes. She’d loved everything about that little shop, about Flemington, about being here with Eric.

Still sniffling, she stuffed the scarf into her bag and flicked off the bathroom light. As she turned, sounds of the front door opening and closing came to her ears. Moments later, pounding feet—dog feet—sounded on the stairs, then Tiger trotted into the room, tail wagging, face smiling.

Eric was home.

She’d hoped to be out of here before he returned, but it didn’t alter her plan in the slightest.

Baloney.

Telling him goodbye in person would make it harder. A lot harder.

She set her bag on the floor. Needing comfort, she leaned down and took the shepherd’s face in her hands. His coat was warm, his almond-shaped eyes glittering. He leaned in and gave her chin a sloppy lick. The furball certainly liked to lick. She wrapped her arms around the dog and ran her hands down his back. He rested his muzzle on her shoulder and sighed.

Eric stood in the doorway. He took in the room from narrowed eyes, and she wanted to laugh. The room was clean for the first time since she’d moved in. His neat freak sensibilities should be pleased, but there was definitely anger simmering in those icy blue depths.

“What the hell are you doing?” he thundered, charging in.

Remember your resolve. “Packing.”