He was going to get answers.
* * * *
Murphy parked beside what remained of Sara’s vehicle and ran a hand through his hair. It had been burned to the ground, leaving only a steel frame. Someone had made damn sure she couldn’t leave town. This changed things. No way could he turn her away now. This wasn’t a marital issue or an angry boyfriend. Someone was determined to get to Sara. Murphy couldn’t turn his back on that. On her.
It explained why she was up here alone. She was on the run. Whoever had done this wouldn’t stop. Not until someone made them.
Cursing, he backed down the driveway and headed toward his cabin. Time to get the rest of the story. He would get answers.
* * * *
Sara heard Murphy’s truck pull up to the cabin and the engine shut off. She hurried to the front door and peeked out to be sure it was him. The dark expression on his face told her something had gone wrong. She opened the door and stepped out, crossing her arms over her waist as Murphy moved with long, angry strides toward her.
From the bottom step, he towered over her. His eyes were hard when they met hers.
“It’s time for answers, Sara.”
She swallowed. “You couldn’t get the tires?”
“No, I found the tires, but they aren’t going to help on a vehicle that’s burned to the ground.”
She gasped, her hand flying to her throat. “Oh no.”
“Tonight, after Abby goes to bed, you and I are going to have a talk, and you’re going to tell me who it is your running from.”
Sara shivered and nodded in defeat. She couldn’t avoid it any longer. The time had come to tell Murphy everything.
“I’ll tell you whatever you want to know,” she said and turned and walked inside.
* * * *
Hours later, after a shower which didn’t soothe her nerves, Sara put on a pair of jeans and t-shirt and took a deep breath. Murphy was waiting for her. Abby had gone down an hour ago. Sara disappeared into the bathroom to collect herself before their talk. Her past humiliated her. She didn’t want to tell Murphy she’d sold her soul to belong in that family.
Looking back now, she wondered why she had tried so hard to belong in a family who never accepted her in the first place. They’d never had any intentions of it and she’d foolishly thought they would eventually treat her as one of them. Somehow, she’d justified it and let them brainwash her into believing she needed to become a socially adept, imitation version of a woman.
After towel drying her hair and brushing out the tangles, she gathered her courage and walked out of the bathroom. Murphy came from his bedroom at the same time, and her breath caught in her throat. He had removed his flannel shirt and wore only a snug t-shirt hugging his muscular chest and arms, and a pair of low-rise jeans. Desire spiraled through her so strong her knees went weak. She swallowed and met his gaze from across the room, hoping he couldn’t read her thoughts. His eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn’t make a comment. Instead, he strode into the kitchen and returned a minute later with two cups of coffee. He handed her one and they settled on the couch.
“Tell me who destroyed your cabin and burned your vehicle,” Murphy said after a moment when she didn’t speak.
Sara took a deep breath. “In order for you to understand why I had to run, you have to understand the family I’m running from. You see, I come from the poorer part of Chicago and the man I married came from the wealthy part. I lived in an apartment, he lived in a mansion. I was nobody, and he was a lawyer who came from a family of lawyers. See the pattern here?”
Murphy said nothing and waited for her to continue.
“The Benchleys are a close knit family who live by a strict code. I didn’t fit within that code so they rejected me. They tried to get Kent to divorce me but he refused. He loved to stir the pot and I made the perfect spoon. I don’t think Kent ever loved me. He cared for me, but I was another one of his toys he used to torment his family with. He was a selfish, spoiled bastard who never cared what his rebellion would do to me. Once we were married, we moved into the main house and my six-year incarceration began. They molded me into the proper wife and daughter-in-law until soon I forgot who I was. I lost my identity and still haven’t gotten it back.”
Sara paused to sip her coffee, aware of Murphy’s eyes on her, but she didn’t look at him. She didn’t think she could handle seeing his reaction right now. It was hard enough admitting what she’d done. She didn’t need to see her mistakes too.
“Your daughter changed things,” he guessed.
“Yes. Kent isolated himself from us, started working late, sometimes not even coming home. Eventually he moved out of our bedroom. I noticed the family taking less notice of me and showing more interest in Abby. She was one of them by blood and they were determined to mold her into the girl they thought she should be. I was nothing to them, one of them by marriage only and they made it clear Abby was the one they wanted. I began making plans to leave Kent, and started tucking money away to support us. I had signed a pre-nuptial agreement when we married, so I would get nothing in the divorce or upon Kent’s death.
“He…he died in a car accident with his mistress. He had just come from a party, he’d drunk too much, was driving too fast, lost control and crashed into a telephone pole. They died instantly. Chelsea managed to cover it up, keep it out of the media so Kent died a hero.
“The day after the funeral they made it clear they wanted Abby. They began keeping her from me and it scared me. They had the money and power to take her and I would be powerless to stop them. They had me committed to a mental hospital for three days to prove I was an unfit mother, but the charges didn’t stick. The doctor in charge of my care refused to be bought off, by the grace of God. If he hadn’t, I would still be there and Abby would be theirs.”
A sob rose in her throat. She pushed it down. It hadn’t happened, Abby was here with her, and safe for now. She remembered those three days with painful clarity. The fear of never seeing Abby again, the desperation for someone to believe her and the agony of being away from her daughter. It had been the longest three days of her life and she had never felt so helpless. Or alone.
“The day I returned, I packed our bags and disappeared that night. I’ve been on the run ever since. I knew Chelsea--Kent’s mother--would send her oldest son, Stephen, after me since he handled all of Kent’s indiscretions. He’s been one step behind me the entire time.”
“Tell me what these people are involved in.”
Sara told him about the reputation they had built. How no one would touch them, which was the reason she’d been forced to run. No one could fight them, no one did. Murphy listened silently, not offering anything, thank goodness, because telling him was hard enough.
“I screwed up, Murphy. I married the wrong man for the wrong reasons and now my daughter is paying the price. She’s been torn away from the only home she ever knew, moved from one place to the next and forced to wear disguises. She lives in fear they are going to find us and take her away. I can’t give her peace of mind because the fear is real. If Stephen catches up with us, he will hurt me and take Abby.”
Once the words were out, she wished she could take them back. Tears welled in her eyes, and Murphy cursed. She had been running for six months and it had taken its toll. She’d lived in fear for so long, she’d forgotten how to be free.
Tears rolled down her cheeks before she could stop them. Stephen had made sure she couldn’t leave town. Now she was broke, trapped, and in danger of losing her daughter. Pain ripped through her at the thought of those people taking Abby. Turning away from Murphy, she set her cup on the table. She didn’t want him to see her cry again, but the tears refused to stop.
Murphy crushed her against his chest and his arms were around her, big and strong. He tucked her head into his shoulder and pulled her onto his lap so he could wrap himself around her. Sara clung to him as she released the emotion that had built inside her from telling the story. She soaked his shi
rt and wilted like a flower when she finished. They sat there in silence long after her tears had dried up and only the sound of her hiccups remained.
Murphy held her until she collected herself. He didn’t press or chide her for breaking down yet again in front of him. He simply offered a shoulder to cry on, and Sara took everything he offered because it had been so long since she’d had anyone to lean on. His arms felt good around her and made her feel safe, if only for a moment. She imagined here, wrapped in his arms, she would be protected. Nothing would get through the barrier he provided. It felt so good, fresh tears spilled over her lashes and onto his shirt as she cried for what she had been missing and what she wanted but couldn’t have.
* * * *
Murphy held Sara as another bout of tears shook her. He had never seen a woman with so many, and it tugged at his hardened heart.
She was in more trouble than he had imagined. He knew about loyalty and how families like the Benchleys worked. They were no different than the terrorist groups. They both had the same principles and protected the family with any means necessary. If this family wanted the girl, they wouldn’t stop until they had her. Sara would be removed from the picture permanently if need be.
The thought shook him more than it should have. From what he had seen so far, Sara was a good mother, loving and capable, and didn’t deserve to be punished for her mistakes. He knew she blamed herself for things that weren’t her fault. The man she had fallen in love with was undoubtedly not the man she married. Sara was too kind-hearted to blame anyone but herself. He hated to see her punishing herself for that bastard’s lies.
She had been treated like an outsider and punished for who she was--or wasn’t--and now he understood why she always apologized. She’d lost her sense of self. That family was responsible. Beneath the lost soul hid a fiercely loyal woman with a loving nature. He could see where that could be used against her.
A streak of anger and possessiveness worked its way through him. His arms tightened around her as the pieces fell together. The destruction in the cabin, the Jeep, they were all indicators of what kind of man chased her. The kind Murphy had spent most of his life fighting. Dammit, he’d walked away from that fight. But when he looked into her gentle blue eyes, he knew he would pick up his weapons once again and go to battle for her.
Though he didn’t understand what started the waterworks this time, he held her and let her cry through it. He tried not to notice how delicate and soft she was or how good she smelled wearing his soap. The last thing she needed was him coming on to her. She had enough burdens on her shoulders and didn’t need his attraction added on top of it. She had been through hell. He couldn’t imagine the fear she’d been feeling the past six months. Not many people were forced to run for their life in order to protect their daughter.
When her tears subsided, she lifted her head and turned away so he couldn’t see her red nose and swollen eyes. She hiccupped and covered her mouth with a shaky hand.
“Look at me,” he ordered softly.
After a moment, she did. His chest tightened when he saw despair shining in her eyes. She hadn’t wanted to tell him everything. He also saw the hopelessness and fear she tried to hide.
Murphy tucked a strand of damp hair behind her ear. “You’re safe here.”
Sara shook her head. “You don’t understand. Stephen is dangerous. He has connections who can make me disappear forever. Abby is Kent’s only heir. Chelsea’s only granddaughter. She won’t stop until she has her back. Stephen will make you disappear too. He’ll do whatever Chelsea needs him to do.”
Her supplication made Murphy wish he could tell her why she was wrong, but his past would stay buried. Nine months in a cage hadn’t killed him and neither would some hotshot lawyer from Chicago.
“No one is going to disappear, because no one knows you’re here. For now you’re safe.”
“For now I’m screwed,” Sara whispered. “I have no way of leaving town. And it’s only a matter of time before Stephen figures out where I am. I have no money to buy a new car or pay for the damage he caused to the cabin I was renting. Mr. Franklin is going to want restitution for the damages.”
“It’s taken care of.”
Sara’s eyes widened and met his. “What? How?”
“Doesn’t matter. Do you have everything you need out of the cabin?” Murphy said gruffly.
Tears welled in Sara’s eyes again and he cursed.
“You paid for the damages.” Her voice wavered.
Murphy didn’t say anything. Better if he didn’t tell her he’d bribed Ed Franklin into silence.
“Oh, Murphy,” she whispered and reached up to cup his cheek. “You’ve helped me so much. How will I ever repay you?”
He scowled. “You aren’t going to. Not everybody has ulterior motives, Sara.”
Murphy wanted to grab every one of the Benchleys and slam his fist through their expensive noses for the number they had done on Sara. They had extinguished the light inside her and it made him angrier than he had been in a long time. After his return from Azbakastan, he’d shut himself away from everyone because he was dead inside. The time he’d spent in that cage had killed his spirit and was part of the reason he had retired from Special Forces. Since Sara’s arrival, things had been stirred up inside him. Things he wasn’t ready to feel. Easier not to.
Her warm, soft hand lay against his skin, her palm over his scar. She swayed toward him and his body responded, but Murphy didn’t act on impulse this time. Kissing Sara wasn’t an option, no matter how much he wanted to taste her soft lips.
Abruptly he removed her from his lap and set her firmly on the sofa beside him.
She didn’t argue and folded her hands in her lap. “So where do we go from here?”
“For now we stay put.”
“Do you think it’s safe to go back to my cabin? I’d like to pick up a couple things before Mr. Franklin starts the repairs.”
“I’ll take you there tomorrow morning.”
Sara nodded. “You don’t mind us staying here a little longer?”
“Where else would you go?”
She sighed. “Nowhere. I have nowhere to go.”
Murphy cupped her chin and forced her to look at him. “You do now. It’s late. Get some rest. We’ll go get your things in the morning.”
She graced him with a tiny smile that wavered slightly. “Okay.”
He let her go and watched her walk to her bedroom. At the door she turned around and said, “Thank you, Murphy. For everything,” and disappeared into her room.
Murphy leaned forward and braced his elbows on his knees. Tomorrow he would increase the security around the cabin. Set a few more traps and secure the perimeter. He didn’t like to be caught unaware. If Stephen was as dangerous as Sara said, the effort would be worth it. It would be hard to see the enemy coming in the mountain wilderness, which put him at a disadvantage. He knew of one place where he would see the enemy coming from miles away. A place where Sara would be taken in and taken care of while he dealt with the enemy. A place he hadn’t been back to since his return from Azbakastan.
Murphy sighed.
He could take her home.
Chapter 9
Sleep evaded her. Sara stared at the ceiling long after she retired to her bedroom. The cabin was silent except for Abby’s soft breathing. She longed to be in Murphy’s bed instead of her own, wrapped in his strong arms and immersed in his strength. With a sigh, she rolled onto her side so she could stare at the wall separating the two rooms. Was Murphy sleeping? Having another nightmare?
Those questions and more floated through her thoughts until she couldn’t stand it anymore. All kinds of emotions swirled inside her with gratitude at the top of the list. Murphy had paid for the damages to the cabin and solved one big problem for her, but her Jeep was in ashes so she couldn’t leave town. Staying with Murphy endangered his life too. The one thing she didn’t want to do. She owed Murphy her thanks, not her burdens, and yet she had spil
led everything tonight with little urging.
Deep down, she wanted to confide in Murphy. She didn’t have a friend to talk to and it had been a lonely six years in that house. She had been surrounded by people who despised her and looked down at her like she was a lowly ant on the bottom of their shoe. Until Abby.
The birth of her daughter had been the happiest day of her life. Abby brought her joy in a time of misery. Together they escaped the strict rules of the house and spent time alone bird watching and taking walks on the beautiful grounds of the Benchley estate. Those were happy times when they would pack a picnic lunch and spend the day in the warm sun. It was the only time they were allowed to laugh and have fun. When they could be themselves. Sara so desperately wanted that back. She used to be a happy person who laughed all the time and took everything in stride, but somewhere along the line she’d lost that part of her.
The day she’d married Kent, they stole it from her. They’d slowly drained the life out of her until she was nothing but a shell who obeyed every command.
Her eyes closed as she allowed herself to dream about a big house with a white picket fence and Abby with a big yellow dog playing in the back yard while she watched happily from the porch. As she drifted off to sleep, Murphy joined the fantasy and stood with her, smiling at Abby as she played, the haunted darkness gone from his eyes and replaced by happiness. A smile touched Sara’s lips as she turned into Murphy’s strong embrace. She lifted her head for his kiss, letting him sweep her away with the force of it…
* * * *
Murphy drove them to the cabin the next morning after breakfast. Sara sank into the black leather seat and inhaled the scent of male and leather. The heady combination set her already sensitive nerves on fire. Murphy’s SUV had large tires that climbed the rough mountain roads with little effort. The rain had created thick trenches in the road. Sara held on to the bar above her head to keep from being thrown out of her seat. She checked on Abby to find her still belted in place. Abby smiled happily from the back seat and waved every time Sara looked back. Her joy lightened Sara’s mood. She had awakened full of restless energy and blamed it on her x-rated dreams of Murphy. The unreleased tension coursing through her body made her surly.
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