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Her stomach twisted into knots as she picked it up, brushing snow from the screen.
The display glowed. Unknown caller.
No. It can’t be him. It’s impossible.
Her thumb hovered over the answer button, her breath hitching. The rational part of her brain screamed at her to ignore the call, to let it go to voicemail. But the fear churning in her gut wouldn’t let her rest until she knew for sure.
She jabbed at the screen, bringing the phone to her ear with a hand that shook like a leaf in a storm. “Hello?” Her voice sounded reedy and unsubstantial.
For a heartbeat, there was nothing but silence on the other end of the line. And then, the voice that haunted her nightmares. “Hello, Grace.”
Richard. Even now, with miles and mountains between them, his voice was as suffocating as a physical touch.
Her throat worked convulsively, the words sticking. She was aware of Wyatt’s footsteps crunching closer. “Richard.”
“Ah, so you remember me.”
“How did you get this number?”
“So business like.” He sighed. “All I want is to take care of you, Grace. Why won’t you let me do that?” His tone was gentle, almost reproachful, but there was steel beneath the velvet.
“You make your money off other people’s suffering, Richard. I can’t be part of that anymore.”
“That’s the way the world works, Grace. It’s not my fault.” He sounded so reasonable, so convinced of his own rightness. It made her want to scream.
“People have died. You had a choice. Even now, you could choose differently. Plead guilty of the charges against you. Face the consequences of your choices.”
“I do choose, Sparrow. I choose you. Come back to me, and everything will be the way it was.”
She hung her head, breathing deep, the old endearment making her skin crawl. “I can’t, Richard. I’m not the person you want me to be. And I won’t pretend anymore.” She pushed the words out, each one a tiny victory against the fear that threatened to choke her. She turned the phone off and stared at it like it was something alien.
“Everything okay?” Wyatt’s deep voice cut through her panic. He stood beside her, his powerful frame blocking the bitter wind that whipped across the snow.His unreadable eyes searched her face.
She turned away, not wanting him to see the terror that gripped her. “Yes. Fine. Um, I’m going inside. It’s freezing out here.” She jammed the phone into her pocket, the weight of it unbearable. With a jerky nod in Wyatt’s direction, she headed back to the house, refusing to look over her shoulder.
These men had shown her only kindness, but she couldn’t stay here any longer. Richard had found her at Caleb’s cabin and now he had called her. He was close.
Despite everything, Richard had tracked her down. She should have known better. Safety was a fleeting illusion.
Locating her would only be a matter of time.
30
Caleb spotted Grace’s car as soon as he pulled into the lot at Mitch’s garage. He paid Mitch cash before collecting the keys, then reversed his truck into a nearby space, Grace’s keys heavy in his pocket. They were more than a means to an end, or a way to get Grace from point A to point B. They were a ticking clock, a reminder that their time together was running out.
He held Grace’s car door open for Dolly. She jumped in with her usual enthusiasm. A muscle popped in his jaw. Fuck, at least someone was happy.
“Caleb Meyer?”
The sound of his name had him spinning on his heel. A woman hurried toward him, her gait awkward as she tried to navigate the uneven sidewalk in heels that looked like they belonged on a runway instead of a grubby garage lot.
There was a woman looking for you.
She clutched a phone in one hand, a stainless steel travel mug in the other.
Caleb’s hackles rose, barbs of unease skittering down his spine. The woman looked like she’d been plucked from the streets of some trendy city neighborhood and dropped into the heart of rural Alaska. She couldn’t have looked more out of place if she’d tried.
What the hell was she doing here?
