Free Me Page 73


The longer we drove, the heavier the ball of dread in my stomach became. The more I believed that JC was actually in trouble. He had to be. It was the only thing that made sense. Was the trouble so bad that he had to run? Did he think that if I knew what it was that I’d not love him anymore? Was that why he wanted to make sure I said I do before he told me what the situation was?

Regret began to creep in. I should have told him that I didn’t care what he’d done. I should have told him that I’d never judge him for his past. He’d been so amazing about letting me feel loved no matter what. I obviously hadn’t done the same.

Why the hell hadn’t I done the same?

And was it too late to try?

I tried to check my phone for the time but found it dead. I’d left the hotel around ten. It couldn’t be any later than ten-fifteen. If I told the driver to go to the airport right now, I’d make it with plenty of time. He’d probably say no. He got his orders from Norma, not me. But maybe, as soon as I hopped out, I could hail a cab and head straight there. Did I dare bail on my sister like that?

I did dare. Norma and the charges against my father could wait. So I’d inconvenience a police officer. That didn’t really bother me too much. I wouldn’t have felt the same urgency only six months before, but I was a different person now. A person who cared enough about her happiness to try to do something about it. If this was my only shot with JC, I had to take it. I had to give him another chance to open up to me.

I prepared myself mentally for the rest of the ride, and as we approached Pierce Industries, I was already looking for a place I could hail a cab.

Except, the car stopped at Pierce Industries and not at the coffee shop down the block. And not just at Pierce Industries, but in the valet section of the garage. Before I asked, the driver explained as he handed his keys over. “There’s no parking at the shop, so we’ll walk from here.”

We’ll walk? He was coming with me? Why wasn’t he just dropping me off and leaving?

I got out of the car, confused, and followed the driver out to the sidewalk.

“It’s at the end of the block to the right.” Ah! Maybe he is leaving me. “I’ll let you lead the way.”

Or maybe not.

I took a few tentative steps toward the coffee shop to see if he would follow, all the while keeping my eyes peeled for a taxi. When I was certain he was coming too, I turned back to him. “I can get there from here by myself, thank you. I appreciate you taking me this far.”

“I apologize, Ms. Anders, but I’ve been instructed to escort you directly to your sister.”

My body went rigid. “Have I done something wrong? Am I in trouble?”

“Nah. Nothing like that.” His eyes scanned everywhere, I realized, without his head moving an inch. “Your sister’s concerned for your safety, that’s all.”

If my levelheaded sister was concerned for my safety, then there was something I didn’t know about going on. Something serious.

I stopped looking for a cab.

Norma was easy to spot inside the coffee shop. She was sitting with three men—one in a police uniform, one I didn’t recognize, and another with his back to me. Despite what my driver—not only my driver, it seemed, but also security detail—had said, I was still cautious as I walked over to join her. He let me go alone, getting in line to get something at the register. It was nice to have my space, but even though my sister hadn’t seen me yet, I no longer had any inclination to go anywhere but directly to her.

“Hey,” I said, when I reached their table. Then, when I saw the face of the third man, I screamed.

He shot up out of his chair and pulled me into his arms. “Hey yourself, big sister.”

Ben, Ben. I nuzzled into his shirt and held onto him with my life. Held onto him tight enough to hide any wayward tears. So many things I wanted to say, but no words came. I thought them extra hard, hoping he’d hear them anyway. I’ve missed you. I love you. I’m so glad you’re here. Why are you here?

“Good to see you too,” he said as he held me. Eventually, when the others behind us started to seem restless, I forced myself to pull away. “You look like shit, by the way.”

“Gee, thanks,” I said, pretending to be shocked. “What are you doing here, anyway?” As overjoyed as I was to see him, I was also afraid that his presence meant there was more that I didn’t know was going on.

“I’ll get there. Gwen, this is Eric.” He nodded to the other plain clothed man. Eric was everything my brother wasn’t. He was tall where Ben was on the shorter side, bulky where Ben was thin, light haired where Ben was dark.

“He’s cute,” I whispered to Ben before bending forward to take Eric’s hand.

“This will have to do since I’m trapped behind the table,” Eric said, “but later I’m going to have to give you a big hug.”

Normally, I’d be hesitant about anyone who thought they were good enough for my brother. Eric was different. He’d gotten my brother through a rough time which earned him points right away, and now, in person, I could instantly tell he was both a protector and a teddy bear.

Good for Ben.

“Gwen, if you don’t mind, we don’t want to waste the officer’s time.” Norma smiled up at me, but it didn’t feel very welcoming. That phrase “smile didn’t meet her eyes” came to mind. Her eyes were not shining. Her eyes were serious.

I swallowed, remembering the somberness of the situation, and sat down in the empty chair with a nod. I suddenly wished I’d ordered a coffee first. I had a feeling I needed energy for this conversation.

Norma must have seen me eyeing her latte. She passed it over to me as she said, “This is Officer Taylor. He’s handling the case with Dad.”

“Hi. And thank you.” I took a swallow of the too sweet beverage. At least it wet my dry throat. When I set the drink down, I found everybody’s eyes on me.

A chill ran down my spine as a thought suddenly occurred to me. “You didn’t confront him already, did you?” If the cops had talked to him, he’d be pissed. Maybe he’d threatened me. Was that why I had the security dude? Had Ben come because of that? Was this why everyone was so anxious about my arrival?

As irrational as it may have been, the thought of angering my father set me into full-fear mode. My hands felt clammy and my stomach churned. I wanted to believe that I was safe. He was on parole, after all. He was in a halfway house. Yet, he’d managed to hit me once already.

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