Page 61 of Running to You

She gasped and opened her eyes.

Sam’s gaze was on her. He said nothing, just waited.

“I remember him. The guy from Mom’s house. His name is Gil. Gilbert C. Lyle.”

“Which one was he?”

“With the goatee.” The big one who’d attacked Sam.

“Tell me what you remembered.”

“He was watching me cook. Impatiently.”

Sam’s eyes tightened at the corners. “Were you…with him?”

Was she? Surely not.

Closing her eyes again, she considered his question, just letting it float around her.

Had she been with that man? Married to him, or dating him?

She examined the feelings racing in her head. Fear. Anxiety. Distaste. Distrust.

No affection. No friendliness. No regret.

“He wasn’t a boyfriend. He was just…in charge.”

“Of what?” Sam sounded angry, and she agreed entirely.

“I don’t know. Me, maybe. But not just me. There were others.” Sam opened his mouth, but she hurried on. “I don’t know who. His is the only face I see. The only name I remember.”

Sam’s lips rubbed together, and he nodded. “Okay. Good. That’s good. Weird that you know his middle initial, but…” He pulled his phone from his pocket and typed a text. “I’ll let the police and Jon know. And search the internet for his name.”

“Okay.”

After a moment he said, “Nothing helpful is coming up on his name.” He dropped the cell on the coffee table, then nodded to her soup. She hadn’t taken a bite. “Aren’t you hungry?”

She was. And she wasn’t going to pretend otherwise. Or count her bites. She was going to eat as much as she wanted. Nobody, not Gilbert C. Lyle or anybody else, was going to control her, ever again.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Because when you do, you’ll leave me again.

Had he really said that? Out loud? Sam shoved food into his mouth, wishing there were a TV in this room. Anything to distract him from the woman by the fire. The way the flickering light danced on her sable-colored hair. The way her eyes, flashing in anger just a few minutes before, now held determination as she ate her dinner. As if she had to fight for every spoonful.

He wanted to fight for her. Fight like he’d never fought for anything. But he knew how that story ended. He might be willing to fight for her, but as soon as he didn’t measure up…

She’d be gone.

Easier to focus on things that couldn’t hurt him. Business associates. Casual girlfriends. Money, money, money. If business associates chose to work with someone else, who cared? If a casual girlfriend met the man of her dreams? Happy for you and have a nice life. Money was always there. Always the right size, always the right color.

Didn’t love him back, though.

All his pursuit of success and pleasure and money, and he was still alone. He’d even convinced himself he liked being alone.

And then Eliza had barreled back into his life and messed everything up.

And then what?