By Request Collection April-June 2016. Оливия Гейтс

       15

      ANNIE WASN’T SURE SHE WAS going to make it to the cabin. Her head was spinning, and She kept thinking she would throw up, but she didn’t. He knew who she was. He knew about Christian. Lies. It had all been lies. It made no sense, because they’d been in bed together. She could still taste him. She’d worked so damn hard to remember everything, branding him into her being, but every sound and scent and touch had been a lie.

      Somehow she was at her truck. How much gas did she have? Enough to get to the freeway. She’d go somewhere, anywhere. There were always crap jobs that nobody else wanted. She could sleep in the truck, or maybe stay at a cheap motel. That’s why She had the other driver’s license. To run.

      Shea would take care of Safe Haven. It would all work out, except that Annie was a fool. She was so stupid it made her step falter, and she had to put her hand on his Land Rover.

      Her breath caught each time, like hiccups. Her purse was inside the cabin. Her keys. God, her money. She’d only take what she’d brought with her. Nothing from Safe Haven, never. She’d just dump out her books, put some clothes in the suitcase. Why did it have to end like this? Though, what had she thought? That it would all be a fairy tale?

      Her truck was so close, but her hand was sticky with spilled soda. Her things weren’t here. She’d been so hungry, and now her stomach churned.

      He knew who she was. He’d known who she was before he’d arrived. Was he a policeman? FBI? Or someone Christian had sent to hurt her?

      Good job on that.

      Broken bones would have been kinder.

      “Annie!”

      She winced at his voice and willed him away. The harder she tried to push herself upright, the more her legs shook. Shea. Shea would tell everyone why she left. She’d help. She was nice. Maybe. Maybe no one was nice, ever.

      “Annie, please.”

      Lesson learned. She’d work. She’d find someplace to sleep. She’d keep to herself. No more talking to people. No more letting anyone in.

      He’d lied.

      Worse than that, she’d believed him.

      Something gripped her wrist, and when she jerked to look, it was his hand, not cuffs.

      “Please come with me to the cabin. We need to talk.”

      She didn’t pull her hand away. She was afraid she’d fall. “There’s nothing to say.”

      “There’s a lot to say. I’m sorry you overheard that. I was going to tell you everything, but not yet. Later. When I’d fixed things.”

      She looked at him and it hurt. “Who the hell are you? Who sent you? I don’t know anything about the money. I never did.”

      “I believe you.”

      Her laughter came out like a bark, like bile. “Liar. You planned it. All of it. The email. Everything. Is your website made up? The foundation? Who do you work for, the D.A., the police?”

      “Obviously you didn’t hear the part you needed to,” he said quietly, his expression blank. Unreadable. But then she fooled herself into thinking she’d ever been able to read him.

      She did jerk away then, and at the second pull, he let her go. “Was it funny? Did I amuse you, or was it all in a day’s work? Huh? Or maybe just cruelty for the sake of it. That actually makes sense. You slept with me. You seduced me. It wasn’t enough to make me trust you. You had to go the extra mile.”

      Closing her eyes so tightly they ached, she held back tears through sheer force of will. “The hell with you, whoever you are.”

      “I know you hate me right now, I do, but dammit, there was nothing funny or cruel about any of this. I had no choice.”

      “What?”

      “You’re in hiding. Living under a false name. You disappeared from the face of the earth.”

      He wasn’t touching her, but he leaned toward her, again, his changed expression utterly new to her. Everything until now had been underlined with confidence and strength, but now he looked anxious and frightened. Not that she dared believe him.

      “Look,” he said, lowering his voice, as if he were afraid of scaring her. “I’m exactly who I said I was. But I’m also Christian’s brother.”

      “Christian Andrews?” She shook her head. No, he couldn’t be. Christian said he had no family. “He’s your brother?”

      “Yes. We share the same biological parents, but I was raised by my mother and her second husband. He adopted me.”

      “Well, I see lying runs in your family. You can tell your brother that I have no idea what happened to the money. I didn’t steal it. Oh, wait…he knows already, because the thief has to be him.”

      “I know,” Tucker said, moving closer to her. “I know.”

      She took a quick breath. So what if Tucker sounded sincere? He was a good actor. He’d been fooling her for days. Except the earnestness had reached his eyes, and she couldn’t look there, couldn’t afford to be stupid again. “What do you know?”

      “Please. Come back into the house. Let me tell you everything. You need to understand what I did. Why I had to keep certain information from you.”

      “Nice way of putting it.”

      He stood straighter, frustration clenching his jaw. “What was I supposed to do? I only found you by chance. You couldn’t have made yourself look more guilty if you’d tried.” Tucker sighed, then gentled his voice. “If anyone should understand that sometimes lies are unavoidable, even necessary, it’s you.”

      She inhaled and nearly choked on the breath. “The picture. It was that stupid picture from the Sundance, wasn’t it?”

      He nodded. “Come inside? Please? I’m not here to hurt you. I swear. I want to help.” He looked down, then shook his head before facing her again. “Whatever you think of me, you need to listen because you could be in real danger. Please, Annie. I’m begging you.”

      God, this was so hard and, again, she’d brought this agony on herself. Was this what the rest of her life would be like? One giant mistake after the next? Because when she looked at Tucker, she saw the same man from this morning. From last night. From the bathtub in the Hilton. His eyes were pained, his brow furrowed.

      And she wanted to believe him. Again.

      All the energy drained out of her. Over two years of fear, of being so careful, of loneliness and regret. She’d lived a shadow life, and when she’d finally dared go into the sun, she’d been burned.

      “Fine. We’ll go inside.” She nervously touched her hair, which brought a memory she’d now sooner forget. “I’ll tell you what you want to know, but you’ll be disappointed. Whatever you or Christian were hoping to find out, I don’t have it. I’ve got nothing.”

      He walked with her, his hand hovering near the small of her back before he brought it, fisted, to his side. During the short trip to the cabin, he repeated the gesture three times.

      She wasn’t sure if she should laugh or cry. Mostly because she had no idea what it meant. Her instinct, still, was to trust him. Maybe it was some kind of reaction to his family. She’d never been attracted to Christian, not like she was with Tucker, but she’d foolishly trusted him. Christian had been clever and a smooth talker. Though they hadn’t even discussed being more than business associates.

      Thank God. One was more than enough.

      The cabin smelled like matzo balls and chicken soup. She wanted to throw it all out, clear the air of any traces that reminded her of their night in