The only good thing about it was she’d gotten Billie away from Dad first. Elsie, the first sister Delia had whisked out of hell, had settled herself there and was thriving. Now Billie would have that chance too.
All because Delia had spent the past ten years of her life making what she could despite her lack of a high school diploma, and using every penny to get her sisters safe. Thanks to Caleb, because once Dad had realized she had someone protecting her, he’d kicked her out. She couldn’t be home to protect the other girls. She’d been forced to stay away for their own safety, sneaking around only when she was sure she could get them free.
For ten years, she’d worked like a dog, using any guy who came along to keep her fed and sheltered so she could afford their escape.
Some guys hadn’t been so bad. Some had used their fists like dear old Dad. But none had ever really kept her safe, no matter how often she wished they’d try.
This was a low point—she had to admit that to herself. If she didn’t admit it, she’d never get past it. But she had to get Steph out and somewhere where she’d have an opportunity to amount to something—and Delia’d use whatever means possible.
Which meant… She blew out a breath. She had to ask for help. Which meant she had two choices.
First, Caleb. He seemed the most reasonable choice. After all, she had some blackmail material on him. Dad had woken up from being beaten unconscious having no idea who had attacked him. Only Delia knew it had been Caleb.
If Caleb truly was on the straight and narrow, there were quite a few things she’d witnessed him do she doubted he wanted the people of Blue Valley to know about.
She could also go to Rose. No doubt she’d need to let Rose know she was okay sometime soon. But Rose’s current location was a mystery. The Rogers women who stayed in Montana knew not to stay one place very long.
Including her. She’d had to stick close until they were all free, but she popped from one town to another to keep Dad off the scent, but close enough to Blue Valley she could get there within an hour or so. Close enough she could keep tabs on the girls. One more. She only needed to get Steph out and then she was free.
Tears she’d never allow herself to shed started to gather and burn in the backs of her eyes. It was exhaustion, plain and simple, causing all this emotion and fear. She hadn’t slept last night as she planned how to sneak her way into the abandoned Shaw cabin. A nap would be the best course of action. Get some rest while waiting for nightfall and her planned prowling for firewood. Plus, if she could fall asleep, she could ignore her growling stomach.
She’d wake up refreshed and ready to take on the next challenge. She sank onto the couch. It was old and squeaky. It smelled of age and dust.
Delia flopped back onto the hard springs of the couch, staring at the cobweb-laden ceiling and trying not to think about her sisters. She didn’t want to remember the bruises on Billie’s arms, or imagine what other bruises might have been hiding under her clothing.
One more. Only one.
Delia closed her eyes, breathed deep, and started counting backwards—the only way she ever shut her brain up enough to sleep. A harsh slam outside made her eyes fling open, her heart racing as fear clawed through her chest.
Oh God, the police had found her already. They’d somehow tracked her here and she was going to jail and Steph was screwed.
Calm. Down. She took a breath in and slid off the couch, hurrying to the window with purposeful strides. Carefully she pulled the tattered curtains far enough away from the window to glimpse outside.
The window was obscured with grime, but it only took her a few seconds to realize it was Caleb. Relief whooshed through her, top to bottom, and she was suddenly shaky on her feet. Or was that the exhaustion and hunger? It hardly mattered.
The door swung open. Jeez, did the guy understand stealth at all? “I don’t know why you’re back, but I’m trying to take a—”
He dropped a hefty box onto the ground with a loud thump. Her limbs seized up, and she was unable to move, unable to look.
No. Please. Not kindness. Not now.
“Food. Flashlights. Blankets. Water.” He spat each word like a curse. “The pump in the back works if you really get it going, but I’m not sure it’s drinkable. What else do you need?”
The sob was so sudden, so overwhelming, she didn’t have a chance to fight it off. She could only clap her hands over her eyes and hope to hide the overflow of tears.
Chapter 3
Caleb wished he had brought his gun this time. If he had it, he could use it to threaten her to stop crying. It was just food, for chrissakes. The woman needed food.
She hadn’t cried when her father had held a gun to her head when they’d been nineteen, but she was crying now. “You make zero sense, woman,” he muttered.