the car.”
Adam stood over Hill and said, “If I catch you even
looking
at my wife, I’ll kill you. Thanks for the beer.” He patted Hill’s face—more like two light slaps—then tucked the gun into his belted waistband and left.
***
Hill rubbed his hand over his face and sighed with relief. He looked beside him and saw two bullet holes in his sofa then looked around at the mess Adam’s sidekick had made. Hill picked up one of the beers and guzzled it down. His hands were shaking, his heart racing. He yelled and hurled the empty beer bottle across the room where it shattered into a flurry of pieces onto the floor. He couldn’t calm down. He was still shaken. He guzzled another bottle of beer, hoping it would at least settle the trembling. It didn’t.
Remembering that Gabe and Ty had cleared all of their stuff from the Church residence because they’d finished the project, except for the final walk-through, he went to the truck to unload it. He hoped keeping busy would calm him down. And it did. After he removed the last thing from the truck, he noticed a briefcase. It wasn’t his. He thought that maybe it was Gabe’s or Ty’s. He threw it back in the truck so he wouldn’t forget to give it to them.
Back inside, he cleaned up the mess that had been made and took out the trash, including the sofa. He put the sofa in the parking area until bulk trash day. That done, he collected the two fragmented bullets from the plaster in the wall and repaired the holes. He put the bullet fragments in a container and placed it on the shelf along with the shell casings.
23
Sunday morning, Hill was still reeling from Adam’s visit the day before. He wanted revenge but knew he couldn’t win against Adam—especially not with his staff of armed bodyguards. No, he knew that would be a losing battle. But the one thing he did have that Adam feared losing was Caitlin. He wanted to see Caitlin and, dammit, nobody was going to stop him. Not even Adam. Hill decided he would go to see her . . . at her house and while Adam was in town
and
at home. But first, he went out for breakfast at a restaurant not too far from the Church property.
Knee deep into his buttermilk pancakes with apple butter and butter pecan syrup, he smelled the sweetest scent, followed by the sound of a sultry voice. It wasn’t husky but bordered on heavy. He recognized it. When he looked up, he saw it was Amelia Morales, the spitting image of Caitlin. He’d thought she was just passing through on her way to Spain, but apparently, she had decided to stay a little while longer.
“Hi Hill. May I?” she asked with her arm extended toward the seat across from him.
“Sure. Why not.”
“You must live nearby.”
“No, I work nearby,” Hill countered, with a mouthful of pancakes.
The waitress came by to ask Amelia if she’d like anything. She nodded and ordered coffee. Hill asked for a refill.
“So what gives me the pleasure,” Hill asked, wiping his mouth with the paper napkin.
“I was passing by and saw you, so I thought I’d stop in—you know, after that scintillating moment we shared,” she said in jest. Hill didn’t see the humor. As a matter of fact, he was so focused on his plan of action to see Caitlin that he hardly focused on Amelia. She leaned in close. “Whatever you’re thinking about doing, don’t,” she warned. The waitress returned with a fresh carafe of coffee and set it on the table after pouring a cupful for Amelia and refilling Hill’s cup.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Hill said.
She took a sip of her coffee and seemed startled by its awful bitterness. “Hill, Cate isn’t who you think she is.”
“Who is she then?”
“She’s dangerous.”
Hill chuckled. Amelia didn’t. She stared at Hill stoically.
“I’m serious. Do you think Adam frightens her?” She waited for Hill’s reaction, but he just sipped his coffee. “He doesn’t. Adam is child’s play for her. She. Is. Dangerous. Hill, watch your
Adam stood over Hill and said, “If I catch you even
looking
at my wife, I’ll kill you. Thanks for the beer.” He patted Hill’s face—more like two light slaps—then tucked the gun into his belted waistband and left.
***
Hill rubbed his hand over his face and sighed with relief. He looked beside him and saw two bullet holes in his sofa then looked around at the mess Adam’s sidekick had made. Hill picked up one of the beers and guzzled it down. His hands were shaking, his heart racing. He yelled and hurled the empty beer bottle across the room where it shattered into a flurry of pieces onto the floor. He couldn’t calm down. He was still shaken. He guzzled another bottle of beer, hoping it would at least settle the trembling. It didn’t.
Remembering that Gabe and Ty had cleared all of their stuff from the Church residence because they’d finished the project, except for the final walk-through, he went to the truck to unload it. He hoped keeping busy would calm him down. And it did. After he removed the last thing from the truck, he noticed a briefcase. It wasn’t his. He thought that maybe it was Gabe’s or Ty’s. He threw it back in the truck so he wouldn’t forget to give it to them.
Back inside, he cleaned up the mess that had been made and took out the trash, including the sofa. He put the sofa in the parking area until bulk trash day. That done, he collected the two fragmented bullets from the plaster in the wall and repaired the holes. He put the bullet fragments in a container and placed it on the shelf along with the shell casings.
23
Sunday morning, Hill was still reeling from Adam’s visit the day before. He wanted revenge but knew he couldn’t win against Adam—especially not with his staff of armed bodyguards. No, he knew that would be a losing battle. But the one thing he did have that Adam feared losing was Caitlin. He wanted to see Caitlin and, dammit, nobody was going to stop him. Not even Adam. Hill decided he would go to see her . . . at her house and while Adam was in town
and
at home. But first, he went out for breakfast at a restaurant not too far from the Church property.
Knee deep into his buttermilk pancakes with apple butter and butter pecan syrup, he smelled the sweetest scent, followed by the sound of a sultry voice. It wasn’t husky but bordered on heavy. He recognized it. When he looked up, he saw it was Amelia Morales, the spitting image of Caitlin. He’d thought she was just passing through on her way to Spain, but apparently, she had decided to stay a little while longer.
“Hi Hill. May I?” she asked with her arm extended toward the seat across from him.
“Sure. Why not.”
“You must live nearby.”
“No, I work nearby,” Hill countered, with a mouthful of pancakes.
The waitress came by to ask Amelia if she’d like anything. She nodded and ordered coffee. Hill asked for a refill.
“So what gives me the pleasure,” Hill asked, wiping his mouth with the paper napkin.
“I was passing by and saw you, so I thought I’d stop in—you know, after that scintillating moment we shared,” she said in jest. Hill didn’t see the humor. As a matter of fact, he was so focused on his plan of action to see Caitlin that he hardly focused on Amelia. She leaned in close. “Whatever you’re thinking about doing, don’t,” she warned. The waitress returned with a fresh carafe of coffee and set it on the table after pouring a cupful for Amelia and refilling Hill’s cup.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Hill said.
She took a sip of her coffee and seemed startled by its awful bitterness. “Hill, Cate isn’t who you think she is.”
“Who is she then?”
“She’s dangerous.”
Hill chuckled. Amelia didn’t. She stared at Hill stoically.
“I’m serious. Do you think Adam frightens her?” She waited for Hill’s reaction, but he just sipped his coffee. “He doesn’t. Adam is child’s play for her. She. Is. Dangerous. Hill, watch your
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