by Dana Mason
Chapter Five
“I’ve never been here,” Sarah said when Mark parked at Pegg’s Western Bakery. She felt better, the aggravation of the morning melting away. The fresh air and sunshine helped. She wasn’t trying to be difficult. It was just that Mark had a way of making her feel—inadequate. He seemed almost too helpful when she wanted to take care of things herself.
The small restaurant was warm, comfortable, and pretty crowded for a Monday. The beautiful, honey-oak woodwork was covered in a high-shine varnish, and the sun’s reflection created a glow of morning light so nice Sarah could’ve stayed there all day.
They stood in the small lobby waiting for the hostess. The bakery was to the left of the dining room, and Sarah stared into the glass enclosure at the huge cinnamon rolls and morning buns, both bigger than the size of her entire hand. The sweet scent of fresh baked bread brought her appetite back with a vengeance.
“You should try the blueberry, cheese Danish,” Mark said, smiling down at her when she leaned in to examine the baked goods.
“I’ve never seen muffins that big.” She pointed to a chocolate muffin. “That’s what I’m having.” She smiled and said, “Chocolate cake for breakfast.”
Unexpected fear gripped her when someone brushed up against her from behind. She straightened her back and shot upright, the smile slipping from her face. The person stood so close she felt his breath brush her cheek. She wanted to turn and face the person who’d approached, be brave and prove she wasn’t afraid, but she froze, the heat draining from her body and her stomach lurching.
Without thinking, she reached for Mark and locked her trembling hand around his elbow.
Mark’s eyes met hers, but she couldn’t blink, couldn’t talk, and couldn’t breathe. Mark tucked her hand around his arm and stepped next to her, looking back at the people standing behind her. She felt the distance and the cooler air brush her back as the presence behind her moved away.
Mark rubbed her hand and whispered, “Take a breath, Sarah.”
The sound of her name got her attention or the warm touch of his hand, she couldn’t be sure. She inhaled and bowed her head, hoping nobody else noticed her discomfort.
Mark tugged her arm, and without looking up, she followed him. After pulling a chair out for her, he leaned in. “Do you want to leave?”
She shook her head and lowered herself into the chair. He sat across from her and ordered coffee for both of them. When the waitress left, Mark reached over and touched the top of her hand. “Sarah?”
She jerked away, knocking her silverware to the floor. “I’m okay, I just...thought this would be easier.”
When she bent to pick it up, he stopped her. “Leave it. They’ll bring you more.”
She straightened and nodded but didn’t meet his eyes.
“We can leave...order our food to go.”
She fisted her hands. “I absolutely do not want to leave,” she said, now looking him directly in the eye.
She had surprised him. The expression on his face was easy to read.
“I will not let that monster scare me out of living my life. I am not going to hide in my house like a coward.” She pronounced each word fiercely, making her face hot with determination.
Mark smiled and looked at her with a new expression.
“What?”
“Anger is better than despair. I expected you to move on from terrified to pissed-off eventually. I just didn’t expect it to happen so fast.” He looked at her carefully. “But you shouldn’t let your guard down.”
“I never let my guard down.”
Her hardness slipped into weariness under his gaze.
“I’m fine,” she chanted more to herself than to him.
After breakfast, Mark drove her to the DMV. This was an adventure all by itself. Mark took the liberty of explaining to the clerk why Sarah needed a replacement driver’s license. Thankfully, he’d lied and said she had been mugged—the truth about her attack would’ve been too real for most people. As it was, people stared relentlessly at her—and if they weren’t staring, they flat out refused to look at her at all.
Sarah wasn’t sure which she preferred. When people stared, they got hard glances from Mark, but when they refused to look at her, she couldn’t fight back the feeling of shame. This instinct was the one thing she’d had trouble shaking after leaving Kevin. He’d manipulated her into believing bad things happened because she deserved them—to feel guilty instead of victimized.
To this day she had trouble making eye contact with strangers, always afraid of what they thought of her. Kevin had filled her head with so much trash, she still had trouble deciphering sympathy from disdain.
Funny how clear the manipulation was to her now, eight years later. If only she could have figured it out before. That he still had even a little bit of control over her thoughts made her nauseous.
Mark pulled into her driveway, and she tried to force a smile when she looked over at him. “Thanks for taking me. I’m sure you had better things to do with your day.”
“Actually I didn’t.” He climbed out and walked over to open the door for her.
She reached out for her keys, hesitating while she built up the nerve. “Do you...want to come inside for a while?”
Mark tilted his head and grinned. “Yeah, I need to show you how to use the system. I didn’t get around to it last night.”
His expression told Sarah that wasn’t his only reason for showing up this morning...and she had no idea how to feel about it.
“Sorry, that’s my fault for being so rude.” She handed the keys back to him. “Will you get the door? I want to check the mail.”
She walked to the end of the driveway and grabbed everything from the box. She flipped through the mail as she strolled back up the driveway. Junk, junk, and more junk, what a waste of paper. Except one envelope, blank, but sealed with a letter inside.
“What is this?” It was small, not a business-sized envelope. It must have been a note from one of her neighbors. She tucked her finger under the lip and ripped at the seal as she climbed the steps to the front door where Mark waited.
The bold blue letters stood out fiercely on the white-lined paper. She tried to focus and read them, but blood rushed to her head, making her temples throb. She fought for air while she read the first line.
IT’S NOT OVER SWEET SWEET SARAH
Chapter Six
She heard her name from a distance, but she was fighting to keep upright. Arms came around her, pulling her to the sofa and her head was thrust between her legs.
“Breathe, Sarah,” he said, holding her in place. “Take a steady breath.”
When cool air burned her lungs, she threw her hands over her face to hide her tears. Her injuries seemed to have a memory, aching whenever she thought about the attack. The note had to be from him. He had her name, had been to her house. What if she’d been home alone? What if he had come across her in the driveway this morning instead of Mark? Her breath caught in her throat and she cursed. She didn’t want Mark—or anyone—to see her like this.
He sat next to her and draped an arm over her shoulder. “Sarah, it’s okay, take a deep breath.”
She stood and paced to the window, crossing her arms over her chest. Willing herself to stop crying. God, she hated how incredibly vulnerable she must have looked to him. As much as she wanted comfort, she wouldn’t let him see that. Once a man got a glimpse of your vulnerability, you’ve given him the upper hand, handed him the keys to your soul. She wouldn’t go down that road again, no matter how comfortable she felt with Mark.
She took a shuddering breath and brushed the tears from her face.
“You okay?” he asked.
She nodded and looked around, pacing the room from window to window. “Sorry—I’m fine.”
“I need to call the police. Can you handle that—if they come here?”
She nodded and walked over to pick up the note with a shaking hand.
IT’S NOT OVER SWEE
T SWEET SARAH.
WE LEFT THINGS UNFINISHED AND AFTER ALL MY HARD WORK. I OWE YOU ONE NOW. CAN’T WAIT TO SEE YOU AGAIN. UNTIL NEXT TIME...
“Sick bastard,” Mark hissed.
She turned to find him standing behind her, the expression on his face hard and focused on the note.
When the paper fluttered in her grasp, he placed his hands on her upper arms and began to rub. “I have to call Brian. Please sit down.”
Her body thawed slightly at his warm touch. If only she could bottle the feeling and have it around when she really needed it. It was scary how easily she felt herself getting closer to him. Wanting to be closer to him, even when she knew it was a mistake. She couldn’t put herself in a vulnerable position again.
She walked back to the sofa, the note still clutched in her hand. Mark was talking into the phone, but she couldn’t hear the conversation because a rushing noise filled her ears. She leaned back on the sofa cushion to get her bearings.
Pull yourself together. Stop acting like a frightened child. She’d faced worse than this before, hadn’t she? She’d come out on top and managed to stay safe, hadn’t she?
Mark snatched the note from her hand and stuffed it into a Ziplock bag with the envelope. “You don’t have to face a bunch of cops, just Brian.”
“Brian?”
Mark sat next to her again. “He’s the investigating officer. He took your statement Friday night.”
Sarah inched away, giving him room and fighting the urge to lean against him. “I don’t remember much of anything from Friday.”
“Probably a good thing,” Mark muttered.
By the time Brian tapped on her screen door, her nerves had settled. Mark stood and opened it, greeting Brian with a nod.
She turned and focused on Brian’s face. His hazel eyes stood out against his olive complexion and dark, curly hair. When their eyes met, his lips tipped into a smile, which contrasted against his agitated expression.
Brian reached a hand out to her. “It’s good to see you again, Ms. Jennings.”
She tried to maintain her focus, but flashes of memory rushed her thoughts—being pushed into the ambulance on a gurney, paramedics cutting the remains of her clothes off, lying in a hospital bed giving a description of her attacker, signing her statement with a shaky hand.
Mark at her side in every memory.
She blinked and reached out to shake Brian’s hand.
“Yes, you too,” she whispered as the memories continued to flood her mind. Sarah even remembered the argument Mark had with Brian when Brian wanted to take her statement. Mark insisted on staying with her, but only because Sarah didn’t want him to leave. At her request, he adamantly refused to leave her side.
Sarah stood and excused herself. She needed to get out from under both sets of prying eyes and collect herself.
Once in the bathroom, she splashed water on her face and took several deep breaths. Why had she clung to Mark so tightly after her attack? What was it about him that broke through her defenses? It was as if he’d become her talisman, a source of strength, but she had no idea how or why.
When Mark knocked, she jumped and reached for a towel before opening the door.
“I’m fine,” she said before he got the question out.
“What happened?”
“Seeing Brian triggered some memories...I got flashes from the hospital.” She hung the towel over the front of the sink and faced him. “Thank you for being here for me. I wouldn’t have gotten through...any of that without you.”
She hung her head at the admission, but she owed him for being there for her that night. It couldn’t have been easy for him.
Mark’s expression sagged. “I couldn’t leave you like that.”
“And being here for me again this morning. I really don’t deserve your kindness. I feel really bad for treating you the way I did yesterday. I shouldn’t have acted...” She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s my fault, I should have thought—I should have asked before I installed the system.”
“Well, for what it’s worth, thank you. It couldn’t have been easy to sit through all that with a stranger.”
“You needed someone. It wasn’t hard to be there for you.” He cleared his throat. “Are you up to talking to Brian?”
She hesitated and focused her eyes on the floor, not sure if she was.
“He’s a good guy, Sarah. You can trust him. I’ve known him most of my life.”
“Okay, yeah.” She nodded. “I can talk to him.”
She followed Mark out of the bathroom and into the living room. Brian came back through the screen, scribbling in a small notepad at the same time.
“She’s ready,” Mark said.
Brian nodded. “I did a cursory of the yard, nothing looks disturbed. No signs that anyone approached the house.” He gestured toward the sofa. “Let’s have a seat.”
She sat down and Brian took a seat across from her on the other side of her huge U-shaped sofa.
“I just have a few questions. I’ll try to be fast.”
“Thank you,” Sarah said.
He clicked his pen a couple of times before looking up from the notepad. His eyes softened when they rested on her face. He smiled again and said, “Did you set the alarm when you left this morning?”
“No, she didn’t know how to use it yet,” Mark said from behind her.
“And what time did you leave?”
“A little after nine. I got here about nine,” Mark said.
Brian shot Mark an exasperated look before asking Sarah, “How long were you gone?”
“All morning,” Mark answered.
“Mark, shut the hell up before I throw you outta here. I’m not questioning you. I’m trying to talk to her.”
“Don’t shout like that. She’s nervous and scared. I’m trying to help.”
Sarah turned to him and said, “Thank you, Mark, but it’s okay...”
“Mark, shut up!” Brian pointed his pen at him. “Don’t act like you’ve never done this before.”
Mark gave him a sullen look and leaned down to rest his hands on the sofa behind Sarah.
“Sarah, how long were you in the driveway before Mark showed up?”
“About ten minutes.”
“What were you doing out there?”
“Trying to leave, but it’s pretty damn hard to drive with one hand.”
“You’re not supposed to be driving. The ER doc put you under restrictions. No driving for at least three weeks.”
Ignoring the pain, she crossed her arms over her chest. “I didn’t know that.”
“Your release papers are on your kitchen table. It has all the information,” Mark said.
“As a cop, I have to warn you not to drive while under those restrictions. Do you have someone to call who can stay with you...or is Mark staying?”
She raised her eyebrows. “No—”
“I can stay. It’s not a problem.”
But it could too easily become a problem if she got any closer to him. She didn’t need to complicate her life with a good-looking, yet overprotective man like Mark.
She turned to look at him. “I can’t ask you to stay here. You’ve already done too much.”
Brian leaned over and grabbed the Ziploc bag with the note inside. “What if he tries to carry out this threat? You’re not exactly in the condition to fight him off again.”
Her pulse kicked up at the thought, but she would not—could not—continue to rely on Mark. It was too much. “Why do I need someone here when I have the alarm?”
“The alarm will alert the police, not provide physical protection. There is a delay in response,” Brian said. “Maybe you can stay somewhere else for a few days.”
She stared at him, not sure what to say. Dammit. No way in hell was she calling her family. She’d rather chew off her own arm than call her parents, and her best friend, Ava, was out of town for work.
“No, I can’t call—”
“I’ll stay. It’s no big deal,” Mark said.
Her eyes swept the room before focusing on Mark again. He looked determined to stay. It was convincing too, but she just couldn’t put herself in that position with him.
She glanced back at the note in the Ziplock. What if her attacker made good on his threat? She closed her eyes at the throbbing pain in her shoulder, knowing Brian was right. If her attacker came back, she couldn’t fight him off now.
“Um...I can call my brother, Devon.”
“Does he live nearby?” Mark asked.
“San Diego—he’s the closest.”
“He can’t get here before tomorrow,” Mark said.
Sarah’s lips quirked into a smile. “You haven’t met my brother.”
“I would rather not leave you alone in this house,” Brian said again, as if she wasn’t grasping the severity of the situation.
“Okay, I know. I’ll call him.” She stood up, retrieved the phone handset, walked into her bedroom and closed the door behind her.
She sat on her bed, still debating. It’s Devon, not Mother. She missed him anyway, and she could get Devon to swear not to tell Mama.
She blew her bangs off her forehead. God, she hated asking for help. He didn’t want to take care of his little sister. He’d spent most of his young life taking care of her. She smacked her palm to her forehead and squeezed her eyes shut. He’s going to kill me when he finds out that I didn’t call him right way.
“Fine, might as well get it over with,” she mumbled, dialing his number.
When her call went directly to voicemail, she hit the off button without leaving a message.
Sarah waited for another few minutes before dialing the number again. No answer. She was absolutely not calling Mama. She dialed Ava’s number, praying Ava came home early from her trip, but it went directly to voicemail.
“Now what?” she whispered.
