After the Storm (KGI #8)(95)

It looked homey and inviting. It wasn’t just a house. It was a home. The inside was still stark and bereft of things that usually dotted a home. Knickknacks. Picture frames. Mementos. Comfortable-looking furniture. But then he’d mentioned that it had only recently been completed. Perhaps he just hadn’t had time to see to the more intimate details of making his house a home. Or maybe he was simply waiting for the right woman to put her own stamp on his house.

She mentally kicked herself again over the direction of her thoughts. When would she learn not to get ahead of herself? She’d known the man for a very short time and she was already planning how to decorate their—his—house.

With a shake of her head, she traipsed around to the kitchen door. Donovan and his brothers were likely in the living room and she didn’t want to just barge into the middle of it all. And they were all present and accounted for, judging by the number of vehicles parked in front.

No, she’d go in through the kitchen and ease her way into the living room. And insert herself into whatever plan it was that Donovan was hatching.

Quietly she opened the kitchen door and let herself in, being careful not to make any noise when she shut it behind her. In the distance she heard the murmur of conversation and she paused a moment, mustering her courage to brazenly walk in on the planning session.

“Ninny,” she muttered.

She’d certainly not had any issues marching into the police station, not once but twice, and demanding action on her mother’s behalf. She’d stood up to Walt time and time again, even though the result had been swift punishment. But she hadn’t allowed that to deter her. Why was she being such a wuss now?

Because she was in love with him and she didn’t want to do anything to make him angry with her.

It was a ridiculous reason, and if that was the way things worked in their relationship going forward, she seriously needed a kick in the head. She wasn’t going to tiptoe through life worrying that everything she did would piss him off.

Having admonished her silliness, she set off toward the living room, the murmurs growing louder as she neared.

But what she heard next stopped her cold in her tracks.

“We call and set up a meet with Walt,” Donovan said, presumably to the occupants of the room. “We dangle Eve in front of him. Hopefully his need for revenge is such that he’ll take her and not focus on Cammie and Travis. I love those kids and the bastard is not getting his hands on them ever again.”

Eve’s mouth dropped open and she shook her head, sure she hadn’t heard correctly. Her heart pounded and she instantly chided herself for jumping to conclusions. Obviously she hadn’t heard right. She’d march in there and get to the bottom of this at once. Then she’d put her idiocy to rest.

But still, an icy hand clutched at her heart and with Donovan’s next words, a sick, oily sensation snaked its way through her veins.

“She’s highly unstable. Danger to herself and those kids. Walt will satisfy himself with her. I’m positive of that. He obviously is a control freak and has an ego the size of Texas. He’ll want to punish her for defying him and upending his plans.”

“And what do you plan to tell Cammie and Travis about all of this?” someone else asked. She couldn’t identify his voice. Perhaps it was someone she hadn’t met yet.

“They won’t know,” Donovan clipped out. “They’ll never know. There’s no need. I’ll take care of them. They’re mine now and I’ll die before ever allowing harm to come to them. Physical or mentally.”

Eve stood there stunned by the conversation unfolding just a few feet away. No. No! It couldn’t be. Nausea welled, sharp and overwhelming in her stomach. Bile rose in her throat as she hastily backed away, wanting only to be away from so much hurt. Each word, like a dull knife, hacking her into tiny pieces until there was nothing left. No heart. No soul. Nothing.

Hands shaking, she managed to hurry back through the kitchen door, sucking in mouthfuls of fresh air. The inside had been stifling. She’d stopped breathing the minute she’d heard Donovan’s cold, ruthless words.

He couldn’t mean it. He couldn’t! He’d just hand her over to her stepfather after all she’d told him? After all she’d shared?

But she’d heard it. Even after denying it to herself, she’d heard correctly. The words couldn’t have been clearer. It was no wonder he hadn’t wanted her, Travis or Cammie here. He wouldn’t have wanted any of them to overhear what he was currently plotting with his brothers. His team. People she’d thought were so kind and generous. People she’d thought she’d found a future with. A home.

She rushed back toward Sophie’s, taking the longer, less direct route so she didn’t walk in front of Donovan’s house. So no one inside would see her.

No tears threatened. Not yet. She was too numb. Too devastated. But soon. She knew they would come. How could they not?

Oh God. Oh God. What was she supposed to do? She felt like the worst sort of idiot for ignoring her misgivings. For not trusting her instincts when her gut screamed at her to cut and run and keep on running. She’d been such a trusting, naïve idiot. And she knew better. She knew!

And yet she’d gone against everything she felt was the right choice. She hadn’t trusted her instincts, and instead she’d trusted him. When she’d vowed not to make the mistake of trusting the wrong people. She’d known it would only lead to disaster, and she’d been right!