Predator - A Stand Alone Suspense Romance(36)

“Fuck,” I curse in anger. “She’s been planning this all along. That’s why she’s been acting so weird the last couple of days.” I throw the file and papers scatter across the floor. “Shit! I should’ve seen this coming.” One panicked thought after the other starts to slam into my mind. “They’ll find her. Fuck, this time they’ll kill her!”

I rush to my safe and quickly open it. I take out my gun, some ammunition, an I.D. with the name Damian Weston, and some cash, and then I run to my room. I pack a small traveling bag, the absolute basics.

On my way out I remember Jean. She’s standing by the front door still drinking coffee. I shove by her, and then call back. “You have five minutes to pack your shit. I’ll drop you off at your house.”

“What the fuck!” she yells. “Why?”

“I have something important to take care of,” I snap, already going into mission mode. No feelings, only facts.

“I paid you!” Jean screams.

I throw the bag in the back of the car and stalk back to the house. I take the cup from her hand and throw it across the yard. I take my wallet out and count out a thousand bucks. I shove it against her and then walk to the room she was staying in. I rush through the room, throwing all her stuff in her bag, and then I race down the stairs again.

I throw the bag on the porch, shove Jean outside and then lock the door behind me.

Cara. I can only think of her as I get in the car.

Cara.

Her name becomes my every heartbeat. I fucking let her feel unsafe in my house by bringing Jean here. I shouldn’t have done that. I screwed up, and now it’s time to fix it. The last I see of Jean is her waving her arms angrily at me, dressed in that skimpy top and panties.

“Fuck, Weston! You fucking screwed this up bad.” I slam my fist against the steering wheel when I reach the main road. “Which way did you go, Cara?”

Using only instinct I turn left, towards town. I will go over every piece of ground with a fine comb until I find her.

I take my phone out and quickly dial Jeff’s number.

As soon as he answers, I don’t give him time to talk. “Put a trace out for Karen Weston. We need to find her, Jeff. She’s on the run.”

“Fuck,” he groans grumpily.

“Let me know when you have a hit.”

When I’m done with the call, I become aware of my heart racing a mile a minute.

Two months … that’s all it took for Cara to crawl into the space my heart used to be.





Cara~

I wake to The Carpenters harmonizing and I shove the pillow over my head. Annie will drive me around the bend with that record player of hers. And she only listens to two records - The Carpenters and the one of Elvis with the scratches on. It hiccups on two of the songs. When she hums along to it she hiccups with it.

The first week I just followed her around like a lost puppy, and she let me. She showed me how to turn the ground, how to plant seeds, and I stared when she started pumping the weird looking thing that made water come from the river up to the little patch of land.

Some guy named Jason made it for her. She gave me the impression this Jason is like a son to her, maybe some boy that goes around doing odd jobs for the elderly. Who knows?

I watched her make bread. I mean from scratch – like from flour and eggs and things. And she pickled some chili. I’ll never remember how she did it all but it was the most fascinating thing I’ve ever seen. It was also the first time I let myself wonder, why not?

Why can’t I just be right here? With Annie. I miss my parents and Annie doesn’t have anyone. We could be together out here in the middle of nowhere. No one will ever find me here.

“Annie,” I call as I walk out of the room that has now become mine. Believe it or not, I’m wearing a dress. Annie adjusted some of her old dresses for me. Some brush the floor when I walk, but most hang under my knees. I’m fine with it. It covers everything and Annie’s happy. “Annie, you want me to run up to the patch so long?”

I find her on the porch, sipping her homemade tea. I won’t touch that stuff ever again. Annie drinks flowers. She picks them right out back and lets them dry and then she drinks them. She calls it her version of Chamomile tea. I’m not so sure about that, it just looks like plain old daisies to me. She started explaining that Chamomile is a type of daisy, and I watered the roses nearest to me with the rest of the tea I had left.

“Come sit next to me, Honey.” She gives me her all-knowing look. The one that I’ve quickly learned leads to a serious talk.

I sit down on the swing and look out toward the trees to where the river lies.

“Tell me,” she starts, “is there something you need from town?” she asks and I let out a breath of relief. I was expecting questions or worse.

“No. No, thank you.” I smile. She’s already giving me so much.

“So you don’t need any lady stuff, for you know, down south?”

I flush red at her question and I start nodding, because duh, I do need those – then realization slams hard. “I haven’t had my period in months.”

“Oh dear,” Annie sighs.

I shake my head at the ugly possibility staring me right in the face. “I can’t be!” I jump up and start to pace in front of Annie.