Page 22 of Running to You

And she got it.

One bruise in front of each arm. Where the thumb goes.

Three in back.

Apparently, the pinky wasn’t strong enough to leave a bruise. But the other fingers…

“Somebody…” She started, confused. “Are you saying…? What are you saying?”

“Whatever happened to you last night, it wasn’t an accident.” His hands dropped. “Somebody grabbed you. Maybe shook you. Maybe bashed your head against—”

“We don’t need that much detail.” Daniel’s voice silenced him.

Sam returned to his chair and sat heavily. “The point is, somebody hurt you. On purpose. Until you know who it was, you need to be on your guard.”

She watched his face, waiting for him to say something else. Something that made sense. Because she would never be with a man who abused her. Would she?

How far had she fallen?

What could possibly have happened to bring her…here?

CHAPTER FIVE

The traffic wasn’t terrible for the last weekend of September. Still, the drive from Shadow Cove to York, where Eliza’s mother lived, would take nearly an hour. He’d started an old playlist Eliza used to like, hoping she’d settle in and enjoy the music. And not want to talk.

But she lowered the volume after a few minutes. “I don’t remember this car.”

“I bought it a couple of years ago.”

“It’s an Audi, right? It’s really smooth.”

Should be for what he’d paid for it. Technically, his business had paid for it. This was his impress-the-clients car—and it worked. Once the snow came, he’d leave it in the garage and drive his pickup. The salt from the ocean was bad enough without adding the junk they dumped on the roads all winter long.

“Your house is beautiful,” she said. “When did you buy it?”

“A while back.”

“You live there alone?”

Was she fishing for information? Wanting to know if he was with anyone? Probably.

“Yup.” He reached for the volume.

“Who decorated it for you?”

He dropped his hand. “I hired someone.”

“I thought so.”

That had him glancing her way. “Figured I didn’t have the talent, huh?”

“It’s not that. It’s just…not really your style. It’s nice, don’t get me wrong. But… I don’t know. It feels sort of feminine.”

A woman he’d been dating had helped him pick out the house. Back then, he’d still held out hope that he’d find someone to share his life with. But it turned out she’d loved his money a lot more than she’d loved him.

He was left with the house. Not that he minded, really. It was a nice place. Great view.

Just really…big for one person.