Fleeting Moments(34)

“I don’t do being ignored well.” His voice is gruff and sexy, and I’m not sorry.

“Not a nice feeling, is it?” I throw back, lightly.

“Why didn’t you answer?”

“You already know the answer to that.”

“I don’t want you at the stadium because I’m not a hundred percent sure it’s safe. I’m not trying to control you.”

“But you are,” I snap. “You are, Heath. You refuse to tell me what’s going on here, you refuse to make contact—you refuse to give me a damned thing. I live every day wondering what the hell kind of lie I’m living in. I’m hanging onto threads of you. I’m . . . I’m so damned tired of it. I know you’re working something dangerous and you can’t tell me about it, but you left me in that house like a crazy person this morning. I hate feeling the way I feel. Like I have to lie. Like I have to feed the idea that I’ve lost my mind. So I don’t care if it’s dangerous—I’m going. I’m going because I need to go, and there isn’t a single thing you can do about that.”

He goes silent for a second, then sighs. “Five minutes.”

“What?”

“Five.”

He hangs up and I stare down at my phone, confused. What the hell does that mean?

“Lucy!” Mom calls.

I sigh.

“Coming.”

I don’t know how much more of this I can take.





CHAPTER 14


The pounding at the door shocks all of us, but mostly me.

I’ve just sat down, tea in hand, when it rings out. Dad looks to me, and I shrug. My heart pounds, but I don’t want to believe it could be who I wish it were on the other side. Mom walks over, wiping her hands again, then she opens it and gasps. “Oh my.”

“Hi there, you must be Lucy’s mom. I’m Heath.”

My hands tremble so much I have to put my cup down on the table next to me. He’s here. He’s. Here. I turn slowly, my dad does too, and I see Mom step aside and Heath enter. My heart hurts just looking at him. He’s wearing all black—his jeans, his tee, his boots. His dark hair is messy, falling over his forehead, and his silver eyes pin mine and hold. I can’t breathe. I can’t . . . breathe.

“Heath?” Dad says, standing. “As in . . .”

“The man who was with her at the stadium, yeah.”

I can’t move.

Dad looks to me, Mom looks to me, but my eyes are on him. I launch out of the chair and run towards him, knocking one of my mother’s vases over on my way. I throw myself into his arms, and he catches me with a grunt. His big arms close around me and my pathetic tears soak his shirt. “You’re here,” I croak.

“I’m here.”

I hang onto him for a minute too long, then reluctantly let him go. I turn to my parents and whisper, “This is the man who saved my life.”

My mom makes a strangled sobbing sound and throws herself into Heath’s arms. “I’ve never been so happy to see a person in my entire life. And, thank you for saving my daughter.”

“You’re welcome, ma’am,” he murmurs.

She lets him go and shuffles into the kitchen to hide the tears beginning to form in her eyes.

My dad steps forward and extends his hand. “I have no words to offer, son, but I will thank you until my dying day for getting my baby out of there.”

My throat gets tight.

“You’re welcome, sir.”

“Call me Darren, please.”

Heath nods.

“Please, sit. We have a lot to talk about,” Dad says, smiling at me.

“Yeah.” Heath sighs. “We really do.”

We all sit in the lounge and Heath reaches over, jerking my hand into his. My dad’s eyes fall on our hands, but he says nothing. He will, though. After Heath is gone I’ll get the lecture, but that’s okay. Right now nothing can upset me.

At least, that’s what I think.

“I must admit,” Mom says, handing Heath a beer, “we questioned if you were real.”

“So I’ve heard,” Heath says, his voice a little tight for my liking, but I say nothing. “Look, in conjunction with the police, I’m working on a case where the person involved has no idea I’m even involved. In fact, that person thinks I’m . . . dead. The case is on the up and up but it is very precarious situation.”

I gasp. “What?” I breathe.

“I can’t give you much information, but I have it on good authority that it’s what he thinks, and therefore I’ve been able to investigate him without any suspicion. I made a deal with the investigators on the case, because the person involved is . . . was . . . close to me. I’m finding out what I can, but I’m doing it discreetly. He doesn’t know I’m here, and because of that I’ve been able to get closer than anyone else has. I know him. I know how it all works. It’s why I’ve been keeping it low and was unable to confirm that I was there the night of the attack. That’s the basics of it, and all I can give you.”

“That’s quite a predicament,” Dad says, his eyes wide.

“Yes, Darren, it is.”

Mom looks to me. “I’m so sorry, Lucy.”

I smile weakly.