Saint Sloan (Saint Sloan #1)

“No!” Aaron yelled. “That’s not what I think!” He paced and looked like he was walking back inside.

Abruptly, he seemed to change his mind and made it across the porch to her in three steps. Without giving her time to protest or even think about what in the world he was doing, he crashed his lips into hers so hard they both took a few steps back. By the time her mind registered to her mouth that she was supposed to be mad at him, she was too far gone. She wrapped her fingers in his hair and kissed him harder, enjoying the break from reality.

When he stopped kissing her, he looked as ragged as she felt.

“I’d rather do that than fight.”

“Me too,” she heard herself saying then thought better of it. What was she doing? Was she going to let one kiss completely wipe away the fact that Aaron had thought she was either losing her mind or making up the whole thing?

Aaron smiled and ran his fingers though her hair. He pulled her toward him for another kiss when she pushed him back, just hard enough to get him to stop.

He looked confused, and she didn’t blame him. She was confused too. “I can’t do this. Maybe you should have kissed me at school instead of accusing me of taking drugs or losing my mind or whatever it is that you think is going on.”

She walked by him and to the back door. “I don’t know what’s going on here,” he called, breathless. “That’s the problem.”

With her hand on the knob, Sloan didn’t turn around. “That’s the problem.” She said before going inside without him.

Sloan plopped down on the seat next to Mackenzie and pushed her food back, her appetite all but gone. She heard the back door open and shut but didn’t watch Aaron sit down at the island.

“I see you two got that worked out,” Mackenzie said sarcastically.

“Whatever. Can we get this worked out sometime tonight? Please?” Sloan begged. She wouldn’t tell them, but all of this stress was causing her head to ache… again. And she couldn’t wait to get upstairs with her pain medicine and her bed. The boogeyman could be hiding up under her bed for all she cared, as long as he was quiet.

“Fine by me,” Aaron added. He never could let her have the last word.

Before she knew it, she was glaring at him. What a difference twenty-four hours had made.

“Okay. Let’s focus. Please,” her mom said at the head of the table. “Let’s say for the sake of argument that someone is sending these things to Sloan…”

“Sake of argument?” Sloan said, offended.

Her mom held her hands up to quiet her. She shut her eyes and had that Mom’s had enough look. “Stop taking things bad, Sloan. It does no one any good and just slows us down. Let’s pretend, for just a few minutes, that we are all on the same page. No one is upset. No one got into a fight. No one called anyone else crazy.”

“I never…” Aaron started.

Her mom shut him up quickly. “And we aren’t cutting each other off. We are sitting here like adults and talking… like adults. Got it?”

Sloan nodded, but she didn’t like it. Sometimes being an adult was overrated.

“Good.” Her mom went on. “Okay. Someone put roses in your car. They put them in your locker at school, right? And then they were delivered. Have you got any today?”

“No,” Sloan answered.

“Okay. Wonder why?”

“No idea. Waiting for the opportune moment, I guess.” She shrugged with a sick knot in her stomach. No telling where the roses would be today or if she’d even get them. Part of her dreaded it. Part of her wished they would hurry up and come so she could prove to them she wasn’t making it up.

“I guess. Seems odd, though. Could have put them in your locker again after school. You weren’t there,” her mom said, tapping a fry on her finger.

“Could be. Didn’t think of it, but I doubt it. He’s never sent it to the same place twice.”

“What did the last note say?” Ray spoke up for the first time in forever.

Sloan’s eyes fluttered to her mother then back to the table. She hated the idea of having to tell her mom again. “It said there was three days until the Fall, and that if I went to the police, he’d hurt my mother.” She shivered just thinking about it.

“And you think she sent that to herself?” Mackenzie snarked at Aaron, who gave her a not-nice look.

“I never said that! Stop bringing it up.”

“Focus,” her mother said, turning her attention back to Sloan. “And you believe this note? You think he’d hurt me?”

“I don’t know what to believe, but I know enough not to chance it. Plus, I already called the police when I thought I saw Boyd across the road. Detective Morgan is of the He’s in a wheelchair, he can’t be stalking you mentality.”

“Has anyone talked to Boyd?” her mother asked the million-dollar question.

How should Sloan play this? Should she act surprised or trick Ray into talking himself into a corner? Who was telling the truth? Ray or Boyd?

“Ray has.” She looked him dead in the eyes.

Kelly Martin's books