Keep Her Safe(63)

I numbly take the card.

With one last sharp look, Klein strolls away, ducking into a dark-colored sedan.

I exhale a lung’s worth of air slowly. Is this what my mom meant when she talked about having the feds breathing down her neck being the worst pressure?

Because I get it now.



* * *



I peek into the adjoining room. Gracie is curled up in the chair, her head resting on the armrest. Fast asleep.

I breathe a sigh of relief.

Dina offers me a weak smile and beckons me in with a limp wave of her hand.

“Do you need anything?” I whisper.

“No. Thank you, Noah.”

The wrappers from the oyster crackers that came with the broth sit empty on her nightstand. “Good. You ate.” I move to collect them.

“Noah! What’d you do to your hand?”

I stretch my fingers out in front of me, studying my reddened knuckles. I haven’t punched a guy since high school; it was some punk who was picking on a disabled kid out in the parking lot. I feel only marginally bad about hitting Klein, mostly because the guy didn’t have warning. He definitely deserved it, though. “Banged it. It’s nothing.”

I toss the trash into the bin in the corner, feeling Dina’s gaze on me the entire way.

“Abe always said that if we didn’t end up having a son of our own, he’d be just as happy having you around. He loved you so much.”

A lump swells in my throat. I nod, unable to come up with a suitable response.

“When do you think you’ll be leaving to go back to Texas?”

“Tomorrow morning. I need to talk to my uncle.” And find out what Maxwell was doing fourteen years ago that would explain why Abe jotted his name down on that news clipping.

And I need to do that all before my forty-eight hours are up.

“Silas . . .” A weak smile touches Dina’s face. “He’s the district attorney now. How’s he doing?”

“Good, all things considered. He’ll be running for District Court judge in the next election and he’s basically a shoo-in.”

“I thought about going to him. Telling him about the intruder. But then I realized that no matter what I did, it wasn’t going to bring Abe back, but it could mean losing Gracie, too. That man . . . it’s been fourteen years and I still feel his hand around my throat when I close my eyes.”

My gaze skates over the needle marks in her forearm. Gracie called Dina weak. But is she? Because some could argue that she’s one hell of a strong lady, to bite her tongue all these years to protect her daughter. And maybe biting her tongue turned her into this.

She twists her wrist to hide the marks. “I’m glad you have Silas.”

“And I’m glad she has you.” I nod toward Gracie.

“For whatever that’s worth.” Dina takes in a deep, almost exaggerated breath. “I can’t explain this feeling. It’s like . . . I’m finally feeling sun against my face again, after so long.”

“That’s because you’ve been alone in all this. But you’re not anymore.”

Tears well in her eyes. “If anything happens to her—” Her voice cracks. With effort, she rolls her head to settle her gaze on her peacefully sleeping daughter for a long moment. Gracie’s features look so soft in slumber, almost childish. I never noticed her thick fringe of dark lashes before, too busy mesmerized by her penetrating gaze.

“Abe and I never had it easy. It seemed like for every person who accepted us, there were two looking at us with disapproval. Because of Abe’s skin color. Or mine. Or our skin colors, together. I remember rocking Grace as a baby, holding her in my arms, worrying about what her life would be like. How people might treat her. How they might punish her because I fell in love with her father. Seems like the least of our problems, doesn’t it?” Her hard swallow fills the room. “She grew up to be so beautiful. And strong.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I look down as I agree with Dina, afraid that she’ll see the thoughts I’ve been having about Gracie these past two days. “And she needs you, alive and clean.”

Dina chuckles softly. “That girl hasn’t needed me for years.”

“She does. She always will, no matter what she says. That’s why we’re taking you to a rehab center tomorrow morning. It’s a great place. Dr. Coppa recommended it.”

“We can’t afford—”

“I have money. My mother left it for me.”

“No, I can’t—”

“You have to, Dina. Do it for Gracie. And for Abe. Imagine what he’d say if he saw you like this.”

She falters over whatever rejection she was going to throw out, and finally, sighs with resignation. “You know she’s not going to let this go, don’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am. She’s already told me she’s coming back to Texas with me.”

“Did you tell her no?”

I chuckle. “Is there such a thing as telling Gracie ‘no’?”

“You’ve figured her out already. She’ll find her way there whether it’s with you or in the back of a Dumpster.”

“Yes, ma’am. She’s the most stubborn girl I’ve ever met,” I agree.