“That’s okay,” said Tom. “We understand.” His eyes held an apologetic look. “I’m sorry this was awkward for us all. Lorraine wanted…” He let it tail off. “Well, I’m glad, though, to have met you. You know you are getting a good man…and I am sure he is getting a good woman.” Lorraine began to walk back. Tom looked after her. “It is still hard for both of us, but we have to get past the pain at some point. And not just for ourselves, but for our son. He’s what we live for now.”
They all turned and began to follow Lorraine back up the path. At the parking lot, John climbed into his truck. “Follow me, Tom. There’s a nice place to eat just down the road.” Then he glanced at Sharee. “I’ll be back to get you in a couple of hours.”
“I might want to stay for the concert.”
“That’s good with me.”
***
Sharee rested her head against the back of the truck’s seat and inhaled the night air. The concert had lasted later than either of them expected, but the feeling inside—washed, cleansed-- still filled her. The music team had interspersed the worship with times of prayer and repentance.
Thank you, Lord, for emptying me of all the junk—the worry, the fear. She looked at John. Even the struggle to be pure. I’m having trouble, you know that; and if I’m having this battle, he is, too. We need your help.
John’s hand tightened on hers, and he sent a brief glance her way. “The concert was good.”
She made a small sound to indicate consent. He seemed free during the concert. She assumed he’d made his peace with Janice’s parents or a break—whatever he needed—and that he’d come into the sanctuary with a lighter heart than usual. Whatever it was, his praise and worship had been unselfconscious.
“Sharee,” he said a few minutes later, “we need some time apart.”
Wow. That’s a quick answer to prayer. “I know.”
His eyes slid her way, “You understand what I’m saying?”
“I believe so.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to spend time with you. It’s just…physically, you are…” His voice trailed off.
She touched his hand. “I understand, John. It’s okay. We both need it.”
He expelled his breath. “As easy as that?”
“You thought I’d argue?”
“That you might not understand.”
She smiled. “Oh, I understand.”
He put his arm around her shoulders, drawing her close. “Three months, Darling. We need a date.”
“Yes.”
He turned into her apartment complex and circled the building. Sharee noticed the glance he threw over the darkened cars.
“Do you think they might try again?”
“I have no idea, but better to be careful. I don’t see anyone suspicious sitting in a parked car. I guess the only person you need protection from is me.” He squeezed her and parked the truck. They sat for a minute in silence, neither moving.
“This is not going to be easy. Climb down, girl.”
She waited a couple of seconds. It wasn’t easy. She opened the door and slid her feet to the ground. “You’re not going to walk me to the door?”
“I love you, but you’d better walk yourself to the door tonight.”
“A date for the wedding?”
“I’ll call you when I get home. We’ll discuss it then.”
“I love you, too.” She closed the door, bit her lip and stared at him through the window.
He moved his hand and the window rolled down. Leaning across the seat, he pulled her lip free. “Go.” His voice sounded husky.
She nodded and walked to her apartment. The motion light blinked on as she neared it. When she unlocked the door, she turned to wave. He gave her a thumbs-up then backed out of the parking space.
When she’d locked the door, she stood in the darkness, feeling alone, fighting her own battle with desire. God, how quickly temptation comes. No wonder he didn’t kiss me goodnight. It’s right there, isn’t it? Satan trying to steal what we just agreed upon.
She tossed her purse at the end table. In the dim light from the window, she watched it slide across the surface and fall off the other side. Why had she done that? Shaking her head, she walked to the opposite wall and switched on the table lamp. Half of the items in her purse had scattered across the floor. She knelt to retrieve them.
A sound came from behind her. Sharee jerked around. A figure stood by the door. She leapt to her feet.
“Dean?”
“Surprise, sweetheart.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I came to see you.”
“But—” She fought to keep her voice calm. “How did you get in?”
“The key, of course. Remember that key you gave me once? To bring something up for you? I had a copy made. Just in case.”
Cold alarm dropped into her stomach. She glanced at the door.
“Oh, he’s gone.” Dean smiled. “I heard the truck leave. No kiss tonight? Is that why you threw your purse?”
“What if he’d come in?”
“I was prepared, but he hasn’t stayed since the other night.”
She gaped at him. “You’ve been watching me?”
“Did you think I’d go away? Like before?” His eyes narrowed. “Or that you could continue to embarrass me and get away with it?”
“I didn’t—”
“Or that my job isn’t important?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Sending the cops to my work—as you did two years ago. My boss was hot last time.”
“I didn’t send them.”
“Oh, yes, you did.” He crossed the space between them. His hand shot out.
Sharee flinched backwards, but his fingers dug into her arm. She clawed at his hand. He snatched it back, and she vaulted for the door, fumbling with the locks.
Dean grabbed both her arms. “Where do you think you’re going?”
She bit the hand that held her. He jerked free and thrust her away from the door. She slipped and hit the wooden floor face first.
The sound of the blinds closing brought her head up. She pushed herself to her knees. Something hard pressed into her hip. Her phone.
Dean stepped next to her. “Get up!”
She turned one side away from him and thrust her hand into her pocket. It closed over the hard rectangle.
“I said get up!”
Dean caught her arm, pulling her to her feet. Her hand tore free from her pocket, but she held tight to the phone.
He thrust his face close to hers. “Don’t try that again. Do you hear me?”
Sharee swallowed and nodded, hiding the phone behind her back. He laughed, loosened his hold and let his eyes drift over her.
She shuddered. She had to get away. If she could use her phone for one minute…
“You and I have some unfinished business. You know that, don’t you?” He raised his hand to her chin. She drew back, and his fingers tightened. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Doesn’t my touch entice you anymore?”
Sharee wrenched her chin free then brought her hand up and slammed the phone against his head. Dean yelped and jumped back, but the next instant, he sent an uppercut to her jaw. Pain exploded through her head. She stumbled backwards, knees buckling, and fell.
Blackness pulsed in and out before her eyes. Dean stepped next to her, cursing. He reached down and grabbed her arm, but her phone had fallen under her. She grabbed for it and smashed her elbow against Dean’s leg as she did. He stumbled backwards, tripped over her foot and went down. Sharee scrambled to her feet and ran for the bathroom.
Dean’s yell followed her.
She rammed the door shut and locked it just as he hit it. Gripping the phone in shaking hands, she tried to punch 911 but hit the wrong numbers. She tried again. Something crashed into the door. It splintered, and she leapt back staring down at the phone.
“Hello? Hello?” No one answered. Had she hit the wrong number again? A second cras
h came. She stabbed the speed dial for John’s number.
A third crash came, and the lock gave way. The door flung open.
Dean sprung at her. “Give me the phone.”
“No!” She twisted away and hunched over it.
He grabbed both arms and yanked them behind her. The phone fell, sliding across the tile floor. Sharee screamed.
“Shut-up!” His hand slapped over her mouth. She bit into his fingers and snatched her face from his grip.
“Let go!”
He swung her around and shoved her toward the doorway. Sharee stuck her feet out, jamming them against the wall on either side. Dean cursed and pounded a fist against her leg until it dropped.
“Who would have thought you’d turn into such a spitfire?”
“Leave me alone, Dean. You’ll end up in jail. Is that what you want?”
His hand cupped her chin, squeezing hard. “If I do, it will be for something worthwhile.” He pulled her to the door. “We were just going to have a nice talk with maybe I’d give you a little something to remember me by, but now…You owe me, sweetheart, and I’ll enjoy collecting.”
Icicles of fear formed inside her. “Someone heard the door crash in. They’ll call the police.”
Dean laughed. “Oh, we’re leaving.”
“They’ll come after you.”
“Your concern is touching.” His arm tightened about her waist. “I have a place where no one will find us.”
He hauled her to the front door and fumbled with the locks. When she fought him, he twisted one arm behind her until she yelped with pain.
“If you’re not quiet, there will be more pain. I’ll do what I have to do to get out of here. You can live or sign your death warrant. Your choice.”
“Let me go, Dean. Please.”
“Shut up.” He opened the door and looked back and forth before pushing her into the cold. The motion light came on. He jerked to a stop then dragged her into the shadows and along the sidewalk.
Sharee tried to see into the blackness, into the parking lot. Was anyone out there? If she screamed… Pain surged up her arm as Dean twisted it again. She gasped.
“Don’t make any noise.”
An apartment door opened. Dean whirled, bringing her around. Through a whirlpool of pain, Sharee saw a gray head and a woman’s apron.
“I’ve got a gun,” Dean growled. “Get back inside.”
The door slammed shut. Its light extinguished.
A gun? He was lying. Wasn’t he? He would have said something, or she would have felt it.
“Call the police!” Sharee yelled.
“I told you to shut up!” He shoved her in front of him.
Sharee grabbed onto the next door handle. No light shown in the window, but she yelled anyway. “Help! Please, help me!”
He shook her free. She stomped on his instep, and they fell against the wall. His hand found her neck and squeezed. Blackness threatened again, strobing in and out.
Lord, help.
“Shut-up, do you hear me? Shut-up!” She gagged, and his hand loosened, dropping to her arm. “Get going!”
The squeal of breaks broke the night. Lights hit the building and flashed over them. Dean whirled, yanking her around with him.
A truck’s door flung open, and John jumped from the cab.
“Stop!” Dean commanded. “Now!”
John stopped. His gaze fastened on Sharee. Hope fingered its way into her heart.
“Don’t come closer,” Dean said as he backed away. “She’s dead if you do. I have a gun.”
“He’s lying, John. He’s lying.”
Another apartment door opened. Dean whirled, and John lunged forward. Dean shoved Sharee at him, spun and sprinted away.
John caught her and pulled her to him. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine. I—”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes, I—”
“Stay here.” He dropped his hands and raced past her. A moment later, he vanished past the corner of the building.
“John!” She heard a motor rev and dashed after him. She rounded the corner just as a black SUV shot out of a nearby parking space.
John skidded to a stop and jumped clear as the SUV roared past, almost hitting him. He stared at the disappearing SUV then turned, his gaze met hers and he held out his arms.
***
The small hospital room in the ER overflowed with people. John sat on the corner of Sharee’s gurney and fought to keep his temper under control. How were all these people allowed back here? He had called Sharee’s Dad, Pastor Alan, and Detective Shepherd on the way to the hospital. Now he questioned the wisdom of those calls.
Sharee hadn’t wanted to come, but a mass of bruises marred her face, and she held her arm as if Dean had broken it. Twisted behind her, she said, but he’d wanted a doctor to check it.
During the call to Alan, he’d heard Lynn’s voice in the background. The surge of misgiving that flew through him had proved correct. Lynn’s information highway moved with NASCAR-like speed. Sharee’s small partitioned area in the ER was crammed with visitors.
He glanced again at Sharee’s face and the surge of adrenaline hit once more. God wouldn’t approve, but he wanted to pound Dean into the pavement. He took a deep breath and unclenched his fists.
She sat tight-faced and stiff against the pillows, the bruises blooming like dark flowers across her cheeks and along her chin. After telling her story to the hospital staff, then the police, she now had to retell it to her friends. John marveled at her control.
Ryann and Abbey had arrived a few minutes after Alan, Daneen, and Lynn. He couldn’t believe Lynn had actually told the girls. Sharee’s father had arrived awhile later, again making amazing time from Ocala. John shifted in his chair and watched Abbey’s fervent texting with growing concern. Who was she telling?
“I can’t believe you use to date this guy.” Abbey said, putting her phone aside for a minute.
A flush started at Sharee’s neck and climbed to her cheeks, highlighting the bruises, and mottling her skin. After all the questions, the comments from the two girls seemed hardest for her to answer. She tried to smile but failed, and tears filled her eyes.
“Oh, Sharee…” Lynn’s voice broke. She stepped next to the bed.
That was it. John surged to his feet. The room full of people leaned away from him much like a school of fish fleeing a predator. Her father rose from his chair in the corner.
He sent a scowl in Lynn’s direction. "All right, that’s enough. Everybody out.”
"John..." Sharee said, struggling to protest.
"I mean it. You've been through enough." His gaze circled the room. "Everyone out."
Sharee's father nodded. "I think you're right, John."
"Dad..."
John glanced his way. Legally, the man had more right here than John had. “Please stay. I wasn’t including you in this.”
Pastor Alan leaned forward. “He’s right, Sharee. You don’t need all of us. Just our prayers.”
Everyone, except Lynn, said goodbye and filed out the door.
Pastor Alan’s head reappeared. "Give us a call tomorrow, John. Let us know how she's doing."
"Okay. I'll call. You inform everyone else. Tell them no calls or visits for the next twenty-four hours.”
The pastor grinned. “I’ll let them know.”
Lynn hovered near the bed. She gave Sharee a hug, and John a belligerent look.
He scowled. “Those girls—”
“I did not tell those girls. Marci must have, or they were there when I called.”
“No one should have been told about this.”
“Sharee doesn’t mind Marci knowing.”
“I mind. She doesn’t need—”
“John Jergenson, you need a marriage license before you can take control here.”
He tightened his jaw, and Lynn narrowed her eyes before turning and leaving. A marriage license. That was exactly what he needed and
wanted.
He turned back to Sharee. Her eyes had widened.
John crossed his arms over his chest. “You didn’t need a circus. The police had enough questions, but your friends…” He bit off the rest of what he wanted to say.
Brian laughed. “I was feeling the same way. Thank you. And it’s a good thing Marilyn’s visiting her mother in Georgia. Seeing her daughter like this…” He dropped his gaze to Sharee, his look softening. “They said they were going to let you go home tonight.”
“They have to finish the paperwork.”
“Come home until this man is found.”
Sharee hesitated. “No, Dad. I’m not going to let Dean run me out of my apartment. John can come and make sure that…no one’s there. No one could get in after I lock and bolt everything. Dean won’t come back, anyway. Not now.”
John cleared his throat. “I’ll go back with you and sleep on the couch tonight. Tomorrow, you call Lynn or someone to come over—for a day or two. I don’t want you alone. Just to be sure.”
Sharee’s eyes went from him to her Dad, who gave a quick nod of agreement.
“Okay. I’ll ask her in the morning.”
***
Quiet enveloped the truck’s cab as they headed for her apartment. John fought his own exhaustion and thought about the calm her dad had brought into the hospital room. He wished he had that ability. His mind went to Dean, and he gritted his teeth. He should have gone after him. He should have…
“I think Dad wanted to stay.” Sharee sat close beside him in the darkness, and he kept one arm around her. The sound of the truck’s tires on the road provided a soothing white noise.
“I’m sure he did.” His hand tightened on the wheel. Revenge is mine, says the Lord. How do I give this to you, God? I want my own revenge.
He needed to get his mind off Dean and onto Sharee. She deserved to be out of harm’s way. Perhaps instead of taking her home, he should take her to his condominium. His place would be safe.
“My place might be safer than yours.”
“What?”
“My place. Dean won’t think of looking for you there.”
She was silent a minute. “I’d need to get all my stuff. My clothes and everything.”
“You can stay a few days.”
“A few days?” Surprise showed in her voice. “John, I…don’t think…it wouldn’t look right. Besides—”
As Long As You Both Shall Live: A Christian Contemporary Romance with Suspense (Dangerous Series Book 2) Page 18
