After Kelly ran out after Ellen, Kipp took Libby in his arms, and a rush of emotion overwhelmed him. Hovering in the warmth of her aura, he felt the tension from the conclusion of a long, hard-fought battle flow out of him. He held her close. He was tearing up again, and when he looked at Libby's face, he saw the tears in her eyes.
"You better go," she said. "She's waiting for you." She tried to take a step back, but he tightened his hold on her.
"I have to see you again, you know that."
"You and Kelly can visit."
"That's not what I meant." He lifted her chin and gave her a whispered kiss.
"We can't do this," she said.
"Why? Because of Tanya? I don't love Tanya. She'll be in my house because of Kelly. That's all."
"You have to give her a chance."
"Why?"
"Because of Kelly. She needs stability right now. She needs a mommy."
"I can't go where my heart won't go."
"You have to think of your daughter now."
"I am thinking of her. A fake marriage is not healthy for her, either."
"You have to focus on her now. Not us. It's not our time."
"When is our time?"
"I don't know." Libby pushed away. "You better go."
"Libby..."
She disappeared down the hallway. "Please go."
More than anything, he wanted to run after her and take her into his arms, but Kelly called out to him. He pulled a tissue from his pocket and dried his face. Before he stepped outside, he yelled down the hallway, "I'll be back, Libby."
Freeway traffic moved along steadily. The pavement was dry. It hadn't rained much this month. A month ago Libby had come into his life. It amazed him how strong his feelings were for her in such a short time. But at the moment he had to think about Kelly.
He had a difficult time keeping his eyes on the road. He stole glances at his daughter, who was strapped safely in the backseat. She played with the Barbie and the bear, and every once in a while, she asked where they were going. She seemed content.
His heart swelled with love, and for the time being, he let the past two years dissolve while he conjured up happier times. He pictured the house in Connecticut: the bright kitchen, the winding staircase, the tiny den off the living room. Kelly used to play on the floor with building blocks, and he would be hard at work at the computer, composing a story for a magazine, but from time to time he would stare at her and imagine her future, wondering if she would choose to become an architect or a lawyer.
His mind skipped to nighttime when he would carry her upstairs. She would pull out every item of clothing from her dresser drawer, looking for the perfect nightgown, and it would remind him she was Tanya's daughter. He would tuck her into bed, read her a story about bears, and watch her eyelids flutter shut.
After two years of hell, he was finally blessed with a full life. When he glanced toward the backseat again, Kelly asked about Libby, and he realized though his life was full, it was incomplete. Leaving Libby was heartbreaking, but he had to question whether or not his feelings toward her would be as strong once they were apart.
* * *
CHAPTER 30
After Kipp left, Libby remained in her office. Astonished at how quickly she had become attached to Kelly and how much Kipp's departure was affecting her, she tried to reason with herself. Their time together had been amazingly short, and she didn't understand why her feelings about them were so intense. It was as if a part of her were being taken away. She had to get herself together before Ellen came back into the house, or Ellen, who had an uncanny way of seeing right through her, would hound her into talking about it. She was not up to that.
Ellen came into the room without knocking. "Hey, girl, why didn't you come out and...Oh, have you been crying?"
Libby brushed past her and into the kitchen to pour herself a glass of water.
Ellen's voice rang from the hallway. "Oh, Libby. I knew you felt something for Kipp. More than you let on. This is going to be really hard on you, isn't it?"
A rush of sadness lodged in Libby's chest. If she opened her mouth to speak, all that sadness would tumble out. She took her glass and went outside. Ellen followed. If ever Libby wanted to be alone, it was now, but she gave up trying and settled into one of the rattan chairs, stared at the winding driveway, and imagined the sight of Kipp's Jeep leaving the property.
Ellen sat, too. "It doesn't have to be over."
Libby took a deep breath and continued to stare off into the distance, into the green of the forest.
"Well, what are you going to do now? Just let him walk out of your life? Kids are resilient, you know. I bet Kipp won't be with his ex that long."
"Ellen, do we have to talk about it?"
"No, but if you don't, you'll explode."
"Look, Ellen, I don't know what's going to happen with them, but I do know right now they have to provide a stable home for Kelly."
"And why's that?" Ellen said. "She didn't have a stable home before she was kidnapped. Wouldn't they want to keep things as authentic as possible?"
"She needs to get reacquainted with her mother. That's the important thing now."
"Boy, it's hot today." Ellen wagged her hand, fanning herself. "If you ask me, that little girl will be on top of things in no time, and you and Kipp can get things going. And, by the way, where's your psychic radar? Can't you see what might happen with him and his ex?"
"It doesn't matter what happens."
"Yes, it does. The sooner she's out of the picture, the better for the two of you."
"Ellen, I can't think of that right now. I'm too tired from the week. Can we drop it?"
Ellen fanned herself again. "It's either the heat, or spending the morning with a six-year-old, but I'm bushed, too. I think I'll take a nap. What about you?" She stood and looked down at Libby, then moved toward the door.
Libby thought of asking Ellen about Charlie but decided against engaging her in any more conversation. Instead, she set her glass down, leaned back, and closed her eyes.
The sun's rays had crept up the porch and engulfed the chairs, making it too hot to sit much longer. For the moment, she basked in the heat, letting it warm her clear through, as if that might relieve the ache. But the ache was in her heart, and as in the past, only work would dull the pain.
Her work seemed like another world, a different reality from what she had just been through. She did not regret one minute of her time with Kipp, especially because of the outcome, but to have let her guard down and opened the door to her heart, if only a crack, was so reckless.
The last time she'd opened herself to those feelings was with Dan, and that had ended miserably. Not that Kipp was anything like Dan, but the pain from that relationship was etched in her mind, in the cells of her body, and the thought of it was enough to keep her heart closed forever.
Despite the heat, sudden chills ran up her spine. Out of the blue, Dan's face popped into her mind. Startled, she opened her eyes. She felt sick inside. These vibes had to have come from just thinking about him and from exhaustion. They were nothing prophetic. She shook the feeling off and went inside to check her work schedule.
The house was air-conditioned cool. She poured herself another glass of water, lingered at the kitchen sink, and watched a squirrel dart across the backyard and into a grove of fir trees. She loved the woods around her property. It provided her the peace and seclusion she craved.
She dabbed her face with a dampened paper towel and headed down the hallway. Ellen's door was ajar. She peeked inside and waited for a response, but Ellen was already asleep.
Upon entering her office, Libby was overwhelmed with an image of Kipp sitting in the recliner, not what she expected or wanted. She waved her arm to ward off any more impressions.
Next week her schedule was full, and she was grateful her mind would be occupied. She needed to close the door to her heart as soon as possible. She felt so vulnerable, so off-balance. She needed to get back on
track.
She sat at her desk, staring out the window, her mind wandering. She relaxed to the point of believing a nap might be a good idea after all. Besides, in her office Kipp's presence was everywhere.
She closed her appointment book and slipped off her shoes. Entering the hallway, she felt a jab in the middle of her back, like an electric shock, a signal that something was trying to get her attention. She ignored the warning and continued to her bedroom.
As soon as she lay down, the pain struck again. Normally, after a warning, a flow of pictures would follow, but she was too worn out to pay attention. She took a few deep breaths to settle herself and willed her mind to calm down. The twittering of birds broke the silence before she drifted into a light sleep.
At first she thought the noise was in her dream--the faraway rumble of a car's engine--but the louder the sound, the more she knew it was real. A shot of electricity, running up her spine, jolted her to a waking state, and the fleeting glimpse of the face she feared most flashed before her. She stood by the side of the bed and froze.
This could not be happening. She hadn't seen or heard from him in so long she blamed a wild imagination fueled by fatigue to create something that was not there.
Her rational mind took over. She thought it might be Kipp. Perhaps he forgot something. That was it. For a fleeting second she glanced at the nightstand, at the pistol's hiding place, thought about taking it with her for safety's sake. But what if it were Kipp and Kelly? She left the pistol alone.
She hastened quietly from the room past Ellen's door. She didn't want to wake Ellen if it was a false alarm, and she prayed it was.
She reached the foyer before the doorbell rang and opened the door in time to see Dan, her ex-husband, climbing the porch stairs. Her first instinct was to lock the screen door, but he swung it open before she could react. She staggered back from the doorway. She couldn't bring herself to say anything.
He blocked her attempt to shut the door. She shifted her gaze to his rough, calloused hand. All the ways he'd used that hand to terrorize her flooded her memory. The smell of alcohol added to the images. She couldn't move and felt like a child awaiting punishment. Then she remembered thinking about him earlier and wondered if she had willed him to come.
"Hey, baby. Can I come in?" His baritone voice snapped her out of her trance.
One foot was already through the doorway. Why had he bothered to ask? She backed inside, and he advanced toward her. Medium in height and build, more wiry than muscular, he would appear non-threatening to any stranger, but Libby was no stranger. She knew what he was capable of.
"What do you want?"
He glanced around the room, then settled his alcoholic eyes on her. His fingers were shoved into the pockets of his jeans, his white tee shirt, the pocket bulging from a pack of cigarettes, was tucked inside. His ebony hair was buzzed close to his scalp, the way he'd worn it in the Marines. Even in the heat of the day he wore cowboy boots, the pointy kind, and the sight of them reminded Libby how sharp they could be in the soft flesh of the belly. She winced from the memory.
His tongue hung half out of his mouth while he sized her up and stopped at her chest. "You look good."
"What do you want, Dan?"
"Money."
"How much?"
"Coupla grand."
She'd loaned him money in the past, but that was years ago, and she thought with that loan he was finally out of her life. "I don't have that to give."
"You've got money." He scanned the room. "Look at this place."
"I thought you were married."
"It's not going so well."
"What do you need money for?"
"What's with the third degree? I just need it."
She sensed the belligerence she knew too well, and she wanted him out of her house, out of her life. She reached for her purse on the coffee table, dug out her wallet, and pulled out a wad of bills. "Take this and get out."
He snatched the money from her hand and leafed through the bills. His face, turning a purplish-red, changed to an ugly scowl. He stuffed the bills in his pocket. "What am I going to do with fifty bucks? I need two grand."
"I don't have it."
"I didn't drive across this fucking county to go away empty-handed." He grabbed her wrist. "Come on, let's go."
"Go where?"
"To the bank. I know you've got the money."
From the corner of her eye, Libby saw Ellen coming down the hallway, and she tried to warn her by shaking her head.
"Hey, what's going on?"
Dan twirled around and in the process dropped Libby's arm.
"What's all the commotion?"
He glanced from Ellen to Libby. "Hey, I get it. You've taken up with a woman. I should have known. You were always a cold fish in bed. Which one is the man in this relationship?"
"Get out."
He let out a howl. "My ex is a lesbian."
"You don't know what you're talking about, mister," Ellen said.
"Shut up." He turned to Libby. "I want the money, now. Let's go."
"I told you I don't have it."
Ellen swung around and jogged down the hallway.
"That's not what I want to hear from you, baby. Now, are you going to come with me, or do I have to make you. It's your call."
Struck by the wild look in Dan's eyes, Libby wanted to talk him down, anything to prevent riding in a car with him. "Why are you here? Where is your wife?"
"That's none of your goddamned business. Now, come on." He cocked his head toward the door.
"Why don't you sit down? I'll make you coffee."
He grabbed her wrist and held tight. "I don't want any goddamned coffee."
She was determined not to go anywhere with him. "Are you hungry? I could make you something to eat."
He tightened his grip and dragged her toward the door just as Ellen came barreling down the hallway with the pistol in her hand. "Let her go, asshole."
He narrowed his eyes and began to take quick, deep breaths, snorting like a bull, ready to charge.
"Ellen, put the gun down."
"You heard your lover, put it down," he said.
Ellen's face puckered, and she marched up to him and held the gun in his face. "You let her go and get out."
He shoved Libby sideways where she fell into the coffee table. He knocked the gun out of Ellen's hand and pushed her backward.
He quickly picked up the gun and held it on Ellen. "You fat bitch." He opened the chamber. "Stupid, too. It's not even loaded." He gripped the barrel, holding the gun like a hammer, and turned to Libby, who had recovered from the fall and was rubbing a sore leg. "What do you have a gun for?"
"What do you think?"
He laughed. "What good is it if it isn't loaded? Obviously, you don't know how to use it. You never were too bright. I'll just take it off your hands."
"Fine. Do what you want."
"Like I have to ask. Now, let's go get the money."
"She's not going anywhere with you," Ellen said.
"You're not only a stupid bitch, you're a mouthy bitch, too."
"Stop it, Dan. Don't talk to her that way."
He lunged at Libby, gripped a wad of her hair in his hand, and held the butt of the gun to her face. "Didn't I ever teach you not to tell me what to do?"
Libby's neck snapped backward from the yank of his hand. "You're hurting me."
Ellen flew at Dan, swinging. With Libby's hair in his grasp, he shoved Ellen away with his free hand. Ellen charged again. He kicked her back with the heel of his boot and swung Libby around, so she was between them. He held Libby's neck in an armlock. "Back off, if you don't want your lover hurt."
Ellen stopped cold.
"Now, this is what I want you to do. I want you to go in the bedroom and stay there until I say you can come out. Libby and I have some unfinished business to take care of before we leave. If you dare show your fat face, I'll hurt her so bad you won't be able to recognize her, then I'll come after you, go
t that?"
Ellen's face sank into a mixture of terror, sorrow, and defeat.
"Do what he says, Ellen."
"But, Libby."
"Just do what he says, please."
Ellen glanced toward the window, hesitated, then backed down the hallway and into her room. Libby prepared for the worst. Dan always made good on his threats, and a swirl of horrible memories overwhelmed her. Her body ached, anticipating the pain. She expected his heavy hand to come down on her, but instead, he backed her to the couch and made her sit with him.
He laid the gun on the table. "I want to see what they did to you."
When he touched the top of her blouse, she dug her nails into the flesh of his arm as hard as she could and used the time it took for him to register the pain to spring off the couch. He caught her arm, and when he stood up, he backhanded her across the face. She sucked in a pained breath.
"I didn't want to have to do that, baby, but you gave me no choice. After we're done here, we're getting the money."
"Please, Dan, don't."
"I'll have you, baby." His voice mellowed with those nauseating words she knew so well.
As he pulled her to her knees, her body went limp. His arm, brushing against hers, was dangerously familiar. The stench of his body was mixed with the stink of tobacco and alcohol. Salty tears trickled into her mouth. She lost the strength to fight him. Sinking deeper and deeper into despair, she closed her eyes and prepared to leave her body.
An agonizing minute went by. She held still.
Dan suddenly let go of her hair and rushed to the window. She heard the sound of an approaching car.
When he turned around, his face had paled out. He checked the window again, then charged past Libby and bolted out the back door.
A second later the doorbell rang. Ellen galloped down the hallway and swung the door open. When a sheriff's deputy asked if she was the one who made the call, she ran to Libby's side. "Libby, are you all right?"
The deputy entered and made a sweeping view of the room. "What happened here, ma'am?" With the sound of an engine starting, he swung around to look outside.
Libby cried out, "Let him go."
Visions of Hope Page 22
