“Steve doesn’t want what is best for you. I do.” He put out his hand like he was going to grab her again. Amelia ducked away from his reach, stumbling over the leg of a chair. Feet tangled beneath her, she knew instantly that there was no stopping her momentum. She was going to hit the floor, hard. She grasped around her for anything to hold on to, feeling like she was falling in slow motion. The edge of the table slipped out of her grip, the chair tumbled down with a crack before she even had made it halfway to the ground, then air . . . nothing but air in her hands.
Just as she was about to land, her body contorted into an unnatural falling position, a strong, soft hand wrapped around her wrist. Though the grip was not enough to keep her from collapsing, it slowed her fall enough so that she hit the floor with a muffled thump. A shock went through her hip, and she was left with a sore shoulder from where her arm had taken the brunt of the intervention, but overall she was okay. Stunned and a bit dizzy, she met Caleb’s gaze. The creases around his eyes that spelled worry were there, and the scary hard mask he’d been wearing for the past two weeks was lifted; for a moment she felt safe with Caleb’s skin touching hers.
“Thank you,” she managed to whisper. Caleb held out his other hand in an offer to help her stand. She didn’t hesitate this time, placing her hand in his. He carefully pulled her to her feet, the overloaded snack bag hanging limply from her elbow. On her feet, Amelia’s hands still rested in his, and she became aware of his thumb tracing a subtle circle on the back of her hand. She slipped them out of his grip. “I’d better go now.”
Any softness to Caleb’s features erased almost as soon as she moved her hands away from his. The set jaw, the barely disguised anger, it was all back, along with a darkness in his eyes. She was afraid he’d try to beg her not to go again, but this time he stepped back after making sure she was steady. He put his hands back in those overused pockets and let his shoulders slump, subtracting several inches from his height. It made Amelia shudder more than when he took her hand, more than when he was watching her at the park, more than when he had sat beside her on that cold park bench a week earlier. There was something so sure, so final about his demeanor that instead of running out the door like she’d planned—she paused.
“Fine,” she said, wrestling the bag back into place, exasperated. “What did you want to tell me?”
This time Caleb made no effort to move closer or to give dire warnings. Instead, he shrugged and said, “Nothing. Never mind.” He cleared his throat with a little cough, but Amelia didn’t budge.
“All right, well, thanks for saving my life.” She gave him a flick of a smile and a brief wave. “See you tomorrow,” she said before heading toward the door without tripping this time. Just as she placed her hand on the nickel door handle and started to turn it clockwise, she heard Caleb’s voice from behind her.
“He’s not what he seems,” Caleb said, being infuriatingly general about who he was referring to. Then, as if answering her internal question, he continued. “Trust me, you can’t believe a word that comes out of Randy Mraz’s mouth.”
Hand still on the knob, Amelia chose not to turn around. Instead, she cracked the door open with a familiar squeal and enjoyed the crisp spring air that washed over her. She considered responding with a snarky remark or with a Thanks a lot, but instead she walked out the door without looking back.
For a moment after she closed it, she thought he might come after her. It wasn’t until she heard the sound of gravel underfoot that she realized what was strange about what Caleb had just said to her. Randy. Randy Mraz.
She’d never said his full name while Caleb was in the room.
CHAPTER 15
ELLIE
Tuesday, May 10
3:10 p.m.
Waiting again. Damn it. She didn’t like waiting. Amelia was out of surgery and headed to the ICU. Steve was out of surgery and in stable condition. She’d been told he was awake but groggy. The police wanted to talk to him before he had any visitors, and Ellie was feeling like a caged animal. At first she paced up and down the hall until Collin forced her to sit down and have a cup of coffee. She held the lukewarm cup in her hand and wondered who thought it was a good idea to give a stimulant to people already on edge. Collin ran his hand over her back again; his touch was getting more irritating the more hours that passed without any word, the longer they waited to hear back from Caleb, and the more calls she had to ignore from neighbors and friends wanting answers she didn’t have.
“Mom and Dad just called.” Collin gathered her ponytail up in his hand and let it fall out of his palm like he was spreading seed in a garden. “Still no news from Caleb. I’m trying not to worry them, so I’m not pushing it, but I can tell my mom is starting to freak out.”
His hand went to the skin at the base of her neck, rubbing upward toward her scalp, his fingertips working in small, bouncy patterns. She leaned into his touch, finally enjoying it again.
“Mmmm . . .” Ellie tried to turn off all the thoughts in her mind and just submit to Collin’s touch, but something was off today. The pressure of his hand was too light, his movements too rehearsed and bland, like he was following instructions rather than instinct. The tiny embers of relief and comfort dimmed instantly, like water being thrown on a glowing fire. She shook her head a little, hoping he’d get the message. He did. Soon his hand retreated and settled into his lap.
“I think I’m going to take a little walk.” They’d been in their third waiting room of the day for going on two hours. With the coffee, Diet Coke, and a bag of spicy cheese curls from the vending machine, Ellie’s stomach was a mess. Maybe the nurses’ station could slip her an antacid. She slapped her hands on her knees and then stood up without even a look at Collin. He’d have to just understand that she needed a break.
“Oh,” he said simply, but his confusion was spelled out clearly in the way he didn’t even try to follow her, instead cocking his head to one side like he was trying to figure her out. “And if they come for you?”
If they come for me? Hm. She checked the pocket of her sweatshirt for her phone. Yeah, by now Crystal’s sweatshirt was officially hers. If you cried into a piece of fabric long and hard enough, it didn’t matter who it belonged to before; at that point it was yours.
“Oh, if Caleb gets in touch, text me for sure,” she said, running her finger over the switch that turned her ringer back on.
Collin sighed and took off his glasses, looking worn out for the first time in that endless day. A tiny twinge of guilt washed over her. For some reason Collin’s concern felt like a weight right now rather than something there to lighten the load. It made her want to run away, like when her auntie Doris, who always wore flower-printed polyester and smelled of mothballs, hugged her just a little too long and gave her one of those squishy, wet kisses that left a smear of red on her cheek.