Safe at Home (Warm Springs Trilogy Book 1) by Christina Kirby Page B

rhythm. It was coming from the closet. He approached slowly and gripped the doorknob. Unsure of what he’d find, he took a deep breath and threw the door open. That’s where he found her.
    She was shivering and rocking, with her back steadily hitting the wall. Her hair was plastered to her forehead from sweat and her eyes were dilated and unblinking.
    “Sam.” He knelt down beside her. “Can you hear me? Are you hurt?” He reached out and touched her arm. She screamed and her wild eyes darted to his face, but she didn’t seem to recognize him. Her feet slid as she tried to get away by pushing herself deeper into the closet. Fear gripped his heart in its claws as he watched her. He’d never seen someone so scared.
    “Sam, it’s me, Spencer. I won’t hurt you, but you have to calm down and tell me what happened.”
    She stopped screaming, but she turned her face as she looked straight ahead and began to rock once more. He reached for her again, slower this time and she didn’t put up a fight. Her skin was clammy to the touch, a hard contrast from the heat they’d shared at the dance. He lifted her, carried her to the bed, and held her against his chest while he tried to soothe her. Her tank top was soaked with cold sweat. How long had she been like this?
    He held her for what felt like hours, and slowly her shaking began to subside. Warmth returned to her body and the knot in his chest loosened slightly.
    “Sam, what happened? I need you to tell me what happened.” He said it in such a hushed tone, he wasn’t sure if she’d heard him or not, but then she started crying.
    “She’s dead,” she whispered.
    “Who’s dead, Sam?”
    “Denise. He killed her.” Tears streaked her face, but she didn’t start shaking again.
    “Okay, just lay down now. I’m going to get you some water.” He laid her down gently, pulled a blanket over her and stepped into the bathroom to find a cup. He’d never actually seen someone in shock before, but he knew the signs.
    Christ, he needed a minute to digest what was happening. Grasping both sides of the sink, Spencer stared at his own reflection. Someone was dead. Someone named Denise. He was confused, but he knew he couldn’t ask her anymore. Not right now anyway. She was distraught, but it was more than that, she was scared. The way she screamed when he’d touched her made his blood run cold.
    Pulling his thoughts together, he stepped back into the room, cup in hand and saw she was asleep. Her breaths were coming out in shuttering waves, but her color was coming back. He needed a drink. He hadn’t been this anxious in…hell, ever. He set the glass on the nightstand beside her and headed downstairs to call Mary.
    “No, she’s fine, just not feeling well. She told me to tell you she’s sorry she didn’t call earlier. She didn’t mean to worry you.”
    “I understand, dear. Cold medicine does that to me, too. Can’t take the darn stuff, or I end up sleeping standing up. Tell her not to worry and to give me a call tomorrow.”
    Spencer went back upstairs and sat in the chair by the window. His thoughts were all mixed up. He just kept seeing her face when he’d reached for her and she’d panicked. He never wanted to see her that way again and he would do whatever it took to make sure he didn’t.
    In the sinking light behind him, the sun painted the sky in beautiful shades of orange and purple, bringing on what promised to be a long night.
    She stirred. As soon as her eyes blinked open, it all came rushing back. The news and the fear. She hadn’t felt that terror in a long time and she ached all over. Forcing herself to sit up, she rubbed her head against a major headache. She leaned against the headboard and felt tenderness in her back. What had she done? That’s when she saw Spencer.
    He was propped up in a chair with his head rolled to one side while he dozed peacefully. Oh, God, he saw her like that. The realization hit her like a cold wave and shocked her