hairs on the back of his neck
standing up. He swept the area around him. The Beretta tucked into the
waistband of his jeans was little comfort against an enemy he couldn’t see.
Unable to shake the feeling, Murphy drove out of town with one thought in mind.
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
standing up. He swept the area around him. The Beretta tucked into the
waistband of his jeans was little comfort against an enemy he couldn’t see.
Unable to shake the feeling, Murphy drove out of town with one thought in mind.
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
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