Heroes Are My Weakness(53)

“Damn right, it’s your fault, too! You and your kissing game.”

“Which you flunked.”

“Of course I flunked it. Do you think I’m made of ice?”

“You! What about me? And since when do you think it’s all right to have sex without a condom?”

“I don’t, damn it. But I’m not used to carrying them around in my pocket.”

“You should! Look at you. You shouldn’t go anywhere without a dozen of them!” She shook her head, closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, she was mercifully calmer. “Just go,” she said. “I can’t stand looking at you a moment longer.”

His wife had delivered nearly those exact words a dozen times, but while Kenley had looked feral, Annie merely looked tired.

“I can’t go, Annie,” he said carefully. “I thought you’d have figured that out by now.”

“Of course you can. And that’s what you’re going to do. Now.”

“Do you really think I’ll leave you here alone at night after somebody tried to shoot you?”

She stared at him. He waited for her to start the foot stomping again or throw another pillow, but she didn’t. “I don’t want you here.”

“I know.”

She crossed her arms and curled her hands around her elbows. “Do what you like. I’m too upset to argue. And sleep in the studio because I’m not sharing. Understand?” A moment later she was gone, her bedroom door shut firmly behind her.

He used the bathroom, and when he came out, faced the dinner mess. Since he’d done the cooking, he shouldn’t have to clean up, but he didn’t mind. Unlike real life, cleaning a kitchen was a task with a clear beginning, middle, and end. Just like a book.


ANNIE BARELY AVOIDED TRIPPING OVER Hannibal as she got out of bed in the morning. In addition to everything else, it seemed she’d acquired a part-time cat. She’d fallen asleep last night counting and recounting the days since her last period. She should be safe, but “should” was far from a guarantee. For all she knew, she could right now be incubating the devil’s spawn. And if that happened . . . She couldn’t bear thinking about it.

She’d thought she’d freed herself from the power these handsome, brooding fake heroes had over her. But no. All Theo had to do was show a little interest, and there she was, eyes closed, legs spread, like the dumbest heroine ever written. It was so stupid. However hopeless the quest might be, she wanted a forever love. She wanted children and the conventional family life she’d never known, but she’d never find that with these damaged, aloof men. Yet here she was, slipping right back into her old pattern, except so much worse. She’d been caught in Theo Harp’s web—not because he’d diabolically cast it around her, but because she’d run into it with her arms outstretched.

She had to get to the attic before he did, and as soon as she heard him in the bathroom, she pulled the stepladder from the storage closet and carried it into the studio. He’d already made the bed, and her puppets were still arranged on the shelf under the window. Once she had the ladder into position in the closet, she climbed up and pushed open the trap. She gingerly poked her head into the cold attic space, then shone around the flashlight she’d brought with her, but she could see only construction beams and insulation.

One more dead end.

She heard the water stop in the bathroom and headed for the kitchen to make a quick bowl of cereal, then carried it back to her bedroom to eat. She didn’t like hiding out in her own home, but she couldn’t bear the idea of seeing him right now.

Only after he left the cottage did she remember the paper Livia had put in her backpack. She removed the roll and carried it over to the table, where she smoothed it out. Livia had used her black marker to draw a trio of stick figures, two large and one very small. The smallest figure, drawn off to the side of the page, had ruler-straight hair. Beneath it, Livia had printed her own name in crooked capital letters. The other two figures weren’t labeled. One lay prone with a red flower shirt decoration, the other stood with arms outstretched. At the bottom of the paper, Livia had laboriously printed out crooked letters:





FRESEK


Annie studied the drawing more closely. The small figure, she noticed, had no mouth.





FRESEK


Annie finally understood. She didn’t know exactly what she was seeing, but she knew why Livia had given this to her. This drawing was Livia’s free secret.





Chapter Twelve


ANNIE PARKED THE RANGE ROVER in the garage at Harp House. Thinking about Livia’s drawing would have been a welcome distraction from worrying about being pregnant if there weren’t something so unsettling about what the little girl had depicted. She wanted to show the drawing to Jaycie to see if she could decipher it, but Annie had made a pact, and even though she’d done it with a four-year-old, she wouldn’t break it.

She closed the garage door and wandered toward the edge of the drive. She’d made it to Harp House before Theo, and as she looked down, she saw him on the beach path, a solitary figure silhouetted against the vastness of the sea. His head was bare as usual, with nothing more than his black suede jacket as protection against the wind. He crouched down to examine a tidal pool. Eventually he leaned back on his heels and gazed out at the water. What was he thinking about? Some gruesome plot line? His dead wife? Or maybe he was considering how to get rid of an inconvenient woman he might have accidentally gotten pregnant?