Desperate Measures. Christy Barritt

I’ve been in denial about it for a long time.”

      “I think it’s a good choice,” his friend Nate said. “Even if people think you’ve lost your mind.” His friend grinned as he leaned against an empty table in The Revolutionary Grill. It was Tuesday night, the one night of the week the grill didn’t open. That’s why John always stopped by, every week on the same night, to hang out. Nate and his wife owned this place.

      Today would be John’s last visit for a while, though. In the morning, he’d leave for Smuggler’s Cove where he would begin a new adventure. He’d worked at the Coast Guard Training Center here in Yorktown for the past five years.

      Now it was a time for a fresh challenge: restoring nine cabins on the remote island of Smuggler’s Cove, located in the middle of the Chesapeake Bay. John was looking forward to some new scenery and new faces. Mostly, he was hoping his soul might be restored right along with the old cabins.

      Since Alyssa had died, nothing in his world had felt right. This life change was his last-ditch effort to find some peace, to make things right with himself. He prayed to God that would be the case. If this didn’t work, what would?

      Finally, John took his last sip of coffee and stood. He raised his cup in acknowledgment of all the Tuesdays he and Nate had done this. “As always, thanks for the coffee. You guys will definitely be what I’ll miss the most about this place.”

      “We’ll be out there to visit you in a week,” Nate added. “Work fast.”

      “You know how to put the pressure on, but there’s no one else I’d work as hard for.” It was the truth. Nate and his wife Kylie had been loyal friends to him. He’d do anything for them.

      Just then, the back door of the restaurant flew open. John’s gaze traveled through the kitchen, swerving in the direction of the sound.

      A woman stood in the back entrance, her eyes wide. Blood trickled from her forehead, her lip was busted, her gaze looked frantic.

      Nate rushed toward her, his eyebrows furrowed together in worry. “Samantha? Are you okay?”

      The woman nodded and touched her forehead.

      That’s right, John realized. It was Samantha, the woman who was renting the room above the restaurant. He’d hardly recognized her in her disheveled state.

      John had seen her around a few times. She was hard not to notice with her trim build, soft blond hair that fell to her shoulders and the mysterious air about her. She kept to herself, but her gaze was always searching her surroundings, as if she was on guard or looking for someone.

      She’d spiked John’s curiosity, but that was as far as it had gone. Ever since Alyssa, John knew he didn’t deserve the chance to even consider a relationship. Besides, Samantha seemed like a closed book, someone whose body language screamed, “Keep your distance.”

      John joined his friend, scanning for trouble out the backdoor window. Before he even reached Samantha, he could see her trembling.

      “I’m fine,” Samantha muttered. Her gaze fluttered to Nate and then John. “Just a little...an—an accident.”

      John was sure those injuries were from anything but an accident. Had someone done that to her? Anger surged in him at the thought.

      He’d seen firsthand the devastation that happened when people didn’t treat others as humans. Alyssa had been a prime example, and his heart still broke at the memory.

      “That must have been some accident,” John muttered, soaking in her injuries.

      Samantha shrugged. Her gaze fluttered wildly about the room, and she gripped her purse. “I’m sorry. I can’t talk now.”

      “Can we help you get cleaned up, at least?” Nate asked. “I can grab my first-aid kit, put some ointment on that cut.”

      She shoved a hair behind her ear. “I’ll be fine.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a piece of paper. Her tremble was more noticeable when she extended her arm. “Here’s the rest of my rent for the month. I’m afraid I’m going to have to take off. Family emergency.”

      “Anything I can do to help?” John asked, even though it wasn’t his business to ask.

      “No.” She shook her head. “I’m just going to grab my things and pick up Connor. We’re going to hit the road tonight.”

      Nate shifted, worry wrinkling the corners of his eyes. “You can’t wait until morning?”

      Samantha shook her head. “I’m sorry. But I’ve got to go now. This can’t wait.” She paused and sucked on her lip for a minute. “Look, you and Kylie have been really kind to me. I don’t know how to say this, but please be careful. Be safe. Especially safe.”

      “What’s going on, Samantha? I don’t like the sound of that.” Nate, a seasoned Coastie, had always been tough, strong and fair. Right now, he sounded on edge.

      John wanted to step in, to say more, to help in some way. But he didn’t know the woman, and Nate did. He held his tongue, restrained himself from pushing Samantha for answers. It was obvious that she needed help, even if she wouldn’t admit it or accept it when offered.

      She took a step toward the staircase leading to her apartment over the restaurant. “I don’t have any time right now. I’ve got to go.”

      She rushed up the stairs. Halfway up, she dropped her purse and the contents clattered down. John retrieved some lipstick and a pen. He handed the items to her, noticing how she jerked back when their hands touched.

      “Thank you,” she muttered before hurrying away.

      John stomped back down the stairs and joined Nate at the back door. He wanted to get his friend’s take on the situation. They moved away from the staircase so their voices wouldn’t carry.

      “What was that about?” John asked.

      Nate rubbed his jaw, looking just as perplexed as John was. “I have no idea. She’s scared.”

      “Someone roughed her up,” John muttered.

      Images of Alyssa flooded his mind. He blanched at each memory before regret filled him. He should have done more to protect her. He should have known that the man who’d caused her so much misery in her past would return, that he wouldn’t be content to leave her alone.

      “I’ve seen that look before. She’s terrified.” John shook his head, unable to get the images to leave his mind. “What do you know about her?”

      Nate shook his head. “Not much. She keeps to herself. Always pays her rent on time. Dotes over her son. But she’s offered very little in terms of personal information. We don’t ask. If she wants us to know, we figure she’ll tell us.”

      John clenched his jaw, still replaying the conversation with her. “She said, ‘Be safe.’ It sounds as if trouble might be coming.”

      “I’ll keep my eyes open. We’ve had problems around here before.”

      “And they landed you in the hospital,” John reminded him. “Maybe I should stick around, be an extra set of eyes....”

      “You do your thing, John. Smuggler’s Cove is your dream. I’ll take care of things here or call the police if I have to.”

      John hated to walk away when a storm could be brewing. Especially since Nate and Kylie had a toddler and another baby on the way. Nate would need all the help he could get.

      John prided himself on always being there for friends when they need him. That’s one of the reasons why his failure with Alyssa hurt so much.

      He’d let her down. He’d let their unborn baby down.

      “I don’t like this,” John finally said.

      Nate clamped his hand on John’s shoulder. “It’s about time you did something for yourself. The change of