In Your Arms: A Small Town Love Story (Safe Haven Book 1) (11 page)

She was stuffing another load of washing into the machine when Adam called.

“Why can’t you come?” he asked.

“I never said I couldn’t come.”

“You’re taking your time to reply. That suggests you’re composing a ‘no’ message.”

She laughed. “You’re too suspicious. That’s what being a cop does to you.”

“So why aren’t you coming?”

She wanted to explain that she didn’t hang out in town. Because groups of cops scared her. And because Adam scared her for different reasons
.
“I’m staying in to wash my hair.”

“Pathetic. You can’t even dish up a decent excuse. If you’re worried about driving, I can get someone to pick you up. I’d do it myself but I’m in meetings until kick-off.”

“Gosh, no, don’t send anyone. I’ll drive.”

“Good, so you’re going to come.”

She straightened the towels into a neat stack. “I never agreed to that.”

“Come on, have a drink with me.” His voice had softened.

“I won’t know anybody.” Perhaps giving voice to one concern would get her off the hook.

“You’ll know me, and I won’t leave you, okay?”

Maybe she could be brave. It might even be fun
.
“Okay.” She put down the phone. There had been the small note of triumph when he told her goodbye, and yeah, the idea that she had pleased him had warmed her. Just a tiny bit. She had to get her head back to the dogs. This was ridiculous.

B
utterflies might look pretty
, but this bunch doing circuits and bumps inside her made her sick in her stomach. Desperate to arrive in at least a moderate state of calm, she’d pulled over to the side of the road and worked on a few calming techniques. Two minutes into the recommended ten-minute chill
,
she was razor-edgy and her mind was performing more flips than an aerobatics display.

She took herself through a breathing routine that she couldn’t quite zone into and managed to make herself dizzy and nauseous.

She checked her watch. Great, twenty-minutes late, and all she’d managed to do was add tardiness to her list of stressors. It looked as if tranquil and soporific were off the menu for now. She started the car engine and continued on her way.

Think about pleasurable things. Rainbows, fluffy puppies, fields of flowers, butterflies
…
dammit, here come the butterflies again.

Even the parking angel had abandoned her, and she lost more time driving around, looking for a place to park. She finally parallel parked several streets from the bar. Not cool with her shoes, killer heels and tight toes. Oh, for sensible ballet flats.

At last, she reached the wine bar and paused at the door. The noisy rumble of a party well on its way assaulted her. Sometimes a late entrance could be tough to pull off. People glanced up and, not recognizing her, returned to their already-formed groups. A couple of men stared but she ignored them and searched for Adam. She finally spotted him with a small group, and a gorgeous redhead attached firmly to his arm. He looked up and she saw the quick flash of warmth in his eyes as he dislodged the Scarlet Limpet and waved her over.

Focusing on Adam—and staying upright in her shoes—Marlo crossed the room. He stepped away from the group and, as she approached, took her arm and pulled her into him.

“You look gorgeous,” he said firmly before kissing her. His mouth was confident and possessive without a trace of the governing device he’d employed the other evening.

Finally, they parted. “You look gorgeous, too. Especially with my lipstick smeared all over your lips. That color suits you. Remind me to give you the name…and happy birthday.”

“Mr. President? Because that dress…”

She nudged him with her elbow. “In your dreams!”

With a firm hold still on her arm, Adam pulled her closer as he bent into her again. “If I could, I’d ditch this lot and take you somewhere, just you and me.”

A warm feeling spread through her, because for Marlo, his intent was enough.

He turned her around, drawing her into the group of his friends. “Let me introduce you to everyone.”

Marlo tried to follow as he worked his way through a series of nicknames and real names. Many faces were familiar from around town, but not all. By the time he’d gone around everyone, she’d attached dog breeds to each person. Except she was so nervous she hadn’t taken in anybody’s name. So where she would usually be able to recall Tina the Tiny Terrier and Chris the Cross Collie, all she had were things like Droopy Spaniel Guy and Flirty French Poodle…and the Scarlet Limpet, who had yet to earn herself a place in dogdom. In fact, the Scarlet Limpet looked positively toxic. Marlo gave her what she hoped was a winning smile and failed to get one in return.

“Wait there. I’ll get you a drink,” Adam said and headed for the bar.

The Scarlet Limpet looked her up and down before settling on a ‘no contest’ attitude. “So how do you know Adam?”

“Work,” Marlo replied. “And you?”

“We’re friends.”

“Friends. How nice.” Marlo turned to the bar. Patrons were crammed together, standing two deep, waiting for service. She was tired already of the Limpet, so she scanned the room, looking for a familiar face. At that moment, she saw the two guys, deep in conversation, exiting the men’s restroom. One peeled off to the bar, and the other made his way across the room.

Her chest tightened while her heart seemed to be calling out for more space, to pound harder. As the rush of panic threatened to envelop her, she fought for every ounce of air, trying to suck it through her narrowing throat. Scanning the room for Adam, she saw him trapped in the crowd at the bar. The man continued to make his way toward the group, and Marlo turned to the Limpet.

“Please, would you tell Adam I had to leave?”

“Tell him yourself, honey. You’ll have to pass him at the bar when you go.” The Limpet’s smile was one of triumph.

Marlo was stricken. She couldn’t explain this to Adam, and she just needed to get out of there fast, because in seconds Len Barrett was going to walk right past her. The last time he’d done that, he’d sworn to have his revenge in the worst possible way.

T
he barmaid dropped
a bottle with a clatter, but the sound she heard was that of Barrett’s duty belt hitting the floor, nine years earlier. Marlo didn’t want to think about the cottage, about what happened there, but she couldn’t control the memory burst. As usual, Carl Hanson was there, on top of her, but somehow Barrett was worse. More terrifying. As despicable as Hanson was, she had believed for a moment that he would protect her. When Barrett had grabbed her chin, turned her face towards him, Hanson didn’t raise a word of protest. She knew then she was on her own.

She snatched some control. Right now she had to get out of the bar. Running would only draw attention, so she turned her back and with eyes downcast, edged herself carefully towards the door. As far as she could tell she had two things in her favor. The bar was packed, and she would be the last person Barrett would expect to see. If he did happen to glance her way, he would be unlikely, she hoped, to recognize her.

With trembling hands, Marlo activated the remote access to her car, climbed inside and locked the doors. She gripped the steering wheel and told herself to get her shit together. Although it had been nine years since she’d seen him, she couldn’t mistake Len Barrett. Sure, he’d shaved his head in a manner that made him look like the thug he was, rather than an officer of the law, but the look was neither endearing nor a disguise. Nor did she think he meant it to be. Looking intimidating would suit his purposes very well.

Her nightmares still contained images of his leer, the way he had smirked because it was his turn. Of Carl, who had coerced then betrayed her and brought Barrett into her life. Of her shame when she realized again that she meant nothing to anyone. She’d been treated like a toy, an amusement. Like mother, like daughter…boy, they’d hammered that home.

But Barrett hadn’t seen her at the bar, so even if he was now based at Halo Peak, he surely would have no idea she lived just out of town. For all she knew, he could’ve been there for a long time, though their paths had never crossed. Plus, after all this time, she had to be well out of his mind.

Feeling calmer, she knew she should start for home because she still hadn’t decided how she was going to deal with Adam—and her cellphone was already beeping and vibrating like a demented toy.

Once home, Marlo checked her security systems. Being sensible, not paranoid. She had left Fala at the house and taken Justice with her down to the kennels to be certain everything was as it should be.

Back at the house, her phone was still receiving messages and telling her she hadn’t read any of them. She poured herself a glass of wine, and took it and the phone out to the patio, placing them on the table beside the daybed. She needed to talk to Adam, to dispel any concerns he might have at her sudden departure, and she would do that as soon as she worked out what to say.

She lay back among the pillows and the phone rang again. Justice hopped up and, as if he’d been trained, picked up the phone and carried it to Marlo. She shook her head and laughed. “Do you think I should talk to him, eh? Well, he’ll have to wait. I’m not ready.”

Justice dropped the phone into her lap. When she picked it up to put it on the table it slipped from her grasp. She juggled to keep from dropping it and in the process inadvertently answered Adam’s call—she could hear him through the speaker.

“Marlo, pick up the damned phone or I’m coming out there to make sure you’re okay.”

Her chest tightened
. Caught. Full marks, Justice.
She lifted the phone to her ear. “Adam, hi, I’m fine.”

“That was some runner you did, Marlo. Do you want to tell me what is going on?”

“There’s nothing going on. I had a bit of a panic attack. I’m good now.”

“A bit! You’re in the bar two minutes and—this is how the others reported it to me—you looked as though you’d seen a ghost and hightailed it out of there.”

“Panic will do that. You know how it goes. Freeze, flight, fight. I froze and then I sort of took to my heels. Not much of a fighter, I guess. It’s textbook stuff.”

“Care to tell me what set off this panic?”

And right there in his voice, Marlo heard it—the exasperation. She knew she could appear irrational, and that she was difficult to comprehend when that happened. Hell, no guy had managed that yet. But right at this minute, as her physical and emotional self merged and plummeted, she realized she’d blown it, again.

She sank right back in the seat and in a lowered voice told him the truth and understood how weak it sounded. “I thought I saw someone I knew.”

She heard him exhale and waited. This time she would have scared him off and that was for the best, really. She could get on with things as she had before without being distracted by him.

“You
think
you saw someone you knew and, based on that, you run off!”

She could almost hear the clench in his jaw, the fight to keep some calm in his voice. Nothing she could say would make that better, because what he’d seen tonight was the person she really was. If she stayed silent, he would talk himself right out of wanting anything to do with her.

“Hell, I was right there, Marlo. Right there to step in and help you…”

Work it a bit more. You’ve nearly done it, Adam.

“You couldn’t have been any safer…the place was full of cops.”

Oh, God
.
She made a small noise. She hadn’t meant to. She hadn’t wanted to give him any clue or encouragement. But right there, in his awful silence, she knew he’d noticed.

“Cops.” He repeated that one word in little more than a breath that was so loaded it almost hurt.

If he wouldn’t back himself off, it was time for her to do it. Her mind trembled with her body as she fought to cut him short. “Yes, cops. But I’m not going to talk about it. It’s not up for discussion. I can’t do this with you, Adam.”

“I’d really prefer to have this conversation face-to-face. I need to see that you’re okay.”

She sat back and rubbed at her forehead, at the pain starting to settle behind her eyes. Hell, which part of ‘not up for discussion’ was he not getting? “We’re not having a conversation,” she said gently.

“Tomorrow, then?”

She was so wrung out, all she wanted was to finish the call. “Maybe. I don’t know. I’m exhausted so, ah…happy birthday.”

“Marlo?”

“Yes,” she answered.

“Where are you right now? Are you in a good place?”

“Physically, yes. Emotionally, I’m not sure.”

“Where are you, physically?”

“I’m on the daybed on the patio. Fala is up here with me, and Justice is at my feet.”

“Okay, good. Would you do something for me?”

“What is it?”

“Do that breathing exercise we did the other night. Close your eyes and breathe in deep through your nose, out through your mouth. Concentrate on slow, deep breaths and try to let your mind empty. Take yourself away from whatever frightened you tonight.”

“I was—”

“Breathe, Marlo.”

“Are you always this bossy?”

“Breathe!”

“I’m doing it.”

“Good…that’s good. Now, I’ve got a whole bunch of people giving me pretty weird looks, so I’ve got to get off the phone, but if anything happens to upset you, I want you to promise to call me immediately, okay?”

“Okay,” she whispered. She switched off the phone and put it on the table. Like hell she’d call.

Sinking back into the cushions, she ran through her options. There weren’t too many. In fact, there were only two. She could leave or stay. If she stayed, she would have to deal with Barrett at some stage, and maybe that would be a good thing. She could exorcise that last ghost and get on with her life. Or not. She wasn’t sure Barrett would want to be purged.

She couldn’t abandon the dogs. They had already been let down too many times in their lives, and she’d pledged to each one that she’d be with them to the conclusion of their rehab—whether that was a new home or permanent sanctuary.

No, leaving town was not going to be an option.

A
dam returned
his phone to his pocket. At least she was okay…well, sort of. Every inch of him wanted to get over there and see her, dig into her head a bit to discover what was going on. At the moment he was inside the riddle and he couldn’t tell if she was in danger or simply a little bit crazy.

She had big issues with cops. Hell, there could be any reason for that. Had she been in trouble? He looked around the bar. Somebody here had spooked her.

“Is it all over, lover boy?”

Adam smiled at Butch. They had given him a hard time since he’d returned from the bar to discover Marlo—or The Bolter, as they now called her—missing. All except Julie, the redhead, who was the only one pleased with the turn the evening had taken. He would finish his drink, and he would get out of there. His desire for celebrating had been switched off with his phone.