9 #2
and updated her on new business.
“You’re not overworking, are you?” Liz asked. “I already have one daughter running around like a raggedy farm girl. I don’t
need both of you coming unraveled.”
Locking her jaw to keep from defending Callie, Glory said, “I’m not unraveling, I promise.”
“Good. You know we depend on you.”
Huh. That was as close to a compliment as Liz ever gave, and it pleased her. “Thank you. I depend on you as well.”
That blasted car pulled up even closer and Glory decided it was time to worry. “Sorry, Liz, I’m driving on those old winding
roads so how about I call you tomorrow morning? We can talk more then.”
“You should never answer your phone while driving. Those roads, especially, are dangerous. They all need to be repaved and there are too many trees blocking the road signs. It’s a wonder people don’t get killed there every day.”
Glory slowed, hoping the car would go around her, but instead, it just continued to follow her. “We’ll visit soon to catch
up. Bye now.” She disconnected and, even though she thought she might be overreacting, she called Kam.
He answered on the first ring. “Hey, babe. Where are you? Getting close?”
“I think someone is following me.” She tried not to sound frantic because it wouldn’t help anything, but still she knew her
voice was a pitch too high. To moderate it, she cleared her throat. “I can’t see the driver because he has tinted windows,
but the car’s been behind me for a while now.”
“Where are you?”
His calm, take-charge tone helped. “I’m still on Mill, about five minutes from Bloom Road.” A largely deserted stretch of
road surrounded by woods.
“I’m on my way. Already in my car. Stay on the line with me.”
Now she really felt absurd. “I didn’t mean to have you—”
“Don’t piss me off, Glory. I told you we’re not taking chances.”
The touch of anger actually reassured her that she’d done the right thing. “Okay, thank you.”
“You have both hands on the wheel, right?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Tell me about the other car. Make, model?”
“Um . . .” She knew next to nothing about cars so this would be one of those times when she felt horribly self-conscious.
Callie would laugh it off, but Glory looked in the rearview mirror and spotted the car again. “It’s white, midsize.”
Without ridiculing her lack of knowledge, Kam asked, “Car, SUV, or truck?”
“Definitely a car.” As she slowed even more for a curve, it got closer again.
“Two-door or four-door?”
“I think . . .” She looked at the car again. “Four-door?”
“I don’t suppose you can see the license plate?”
“He’s close, but not that close.” She clenched her hands on the wheel, horribly afraid that Mike was in that car.
“I’m only a few minutes away from you now, babe.”
“I don’t think I’ll have—” From the woods along the side of the road, a small dog ran out in front of her. Glory half screamed,
hit her breaks and tried to swerve to avoid the dog, but instead, the car spun. The driver of the white car barely missed
her as she went off the road and came up against a tree with teeth-jarring impact.
“Glory!”
She tried to move, but something pinned her in place. “I . . . I hit my head.” She realized her voice was faint, sort of hazy,
and everything was spinning around her. “I can’t move my left arm.”
She knew Kam couldn’t hear her when he shouted her name again.
“Kam?” Her left arm ached and felt impossibly heavy. When she tried to move it, indescribable pain coursed through her torso
and stole all her breath. Something liquid dripped into her eyes and she had the awful thought that she might be dying.
No! She wouldn’t . . . Oh, God. She’d been through this before.
That time, her mother and father had died, and she’d just been . . . damaged.
I don’t want to be damaged again.
Neither did she want to die, damn it.
What if the man following her came after her now? If it was Mike, at least he was familiar. Unhinged, but still, better a known threat than an unknown.
The sudden screech of tires, then the slamming of a door, filled her eyes with tears. She couldn’t die, not when she was so
happy with Kam. Not when she was finally coming into her own, learning to speak up for herself—albeit slowly, but still, she
was making progress.
Callie would be devastated. How unfair for her to have to deal with this when she should still be celebrating her new marriage.
“No,” she whispered, her voice barely there. “I don’t want to die.”
“Glory,” came a gravelly, emotional voice. “Jesus, honey, hang on. An ambulance is on the way.”
“Kam?” She couldn’t see very well through the film over her eyes.
“Don’t move, okay? Your driver side door is smashed and the airbags deployed.” A loud screech proved that he’d wrenched open
the passenger door. “I’m right here, okay?” His rough, broken voice was closer, as if he sat right beside her now. “Callie
and Tanner are on their way.”
“Don’t tell Liz.” The last thing she wanted was more surgeries. No more, not ever again. “Promise you won’t—”
The backs of his fingers touched her face. “It’s okay, baby. I won’t tell.”
She suddenly remembered. “The other car!”
“No one else is around. Whoever did this is long gone. The police will be looking for him.”
“Kam.” With new desperation, she remembered the dog. Dear God, had she hit it? A sob tried to edge up her throat. She couldn’t
quite swallow it back, but breathing and speaking hurt, so she could only imagine how bad crying would be. “There was a dog.
A little dog. Maybe a puppy.”
“I didn’t see a dog.”
“You have to find it! Find the dog.”
“Shh. Calm down.”
No, she wouldn’t. Tears leaked out and she knew she was a terrible crier. The ugliest crier ever, but she couldn’t get it
together. “Please.” Gaining strength, she tried to move, but dear God, it hurt.
“Be still, honey.”
“Please find the dog.”
“Listen to me. Tanner will find it, okay?” He was quiet a second, then he said, “Hear that siren? The ambulance is here and
Tanner’s right behind it. He’ll find the dog, I promise.”
She didn’t hear anything. Actually, darkness was closing in around her. There was more she wanted to say, but she couldn’t
catch her breath. Couldn’t speak . . .
“Don’t leave me, Glory.” His voice, now ragged, emerged deep and desperate. “Don’t you dare leave me.”
Her last thought was that Kam sounded awfully sad, and if she could, she’d make him smile.
Never in his life had he been more agonized. His eyes burned and his throat ached with the need to shout. If only shouting
would help anything.
Tanner clasped his shoulder. “Shouldn’t be much longer.”
That promise didn’t help much when too many hours had already passed. He kept seeing her again, crumpled and bloody, squashed
in that fucking car. Blood had covered her face and pale hair. The door pinned her in place as she’d labored to breathe.
“She’ll be all right,” Callie stated with firm determination, her eyes swimming with tears, her nose bright pink. “She will.”
Tanner tugged her into his lap and wrapped himself around her.
Kam felt mean, like he needed to destroy something—or someone. Like Mike. He knew that miserable puke had to be behind this.
When Callie stood, both Tanner and Kam looked at her.
Her face showed her strain and her voice broke when she said, “I can’t sit here. I’m going to—” she gestured at the small
waiting room “—move. Before I explode.” And with that, she began pacing the perimeter of the room.
Helpless, his jaw locked, Tanner watched her.
“You can walk with her, you know. You don’t need to babysit me.”
“Right now, she looks in better shape than you.”
“Fuck you, Tanner,” he said without heat. He pressed the heels of his hands against his eye sockets. “Christ, this sucks.”
“I know, but she’ll be okay.” He shared a crooked smile. “At least I found that pup.”
Dropping back in his seat, Kam lowered his hands and closed his eyes. “Yeah, that’s something, I guess.” Opening his eyes
again, he pinned Tanner in place. “She begged me to find the dog—and not to tell Liz.”
The shifting of Tanner’s gaze showed guilt.
The rage of fear rose again. “You know why that is, don’t you?”
“Glory will tell you.”
“I want my brother to tell me.”
Lifting his brows, Tanner said, “So we’re kids again?”
Right. Not since he was an angry youth put in unfamiliar circumstances had Kam sneered brother in quite that mean, insulting way. It was meant to degrade the relationship, because back then, he hadn’t trusted in anything
good. Now he did. “I’m sorry.”
“Understandable.” Tanner kept his gaze on his wife as she tried to outrun her worry in a room too small for the mission.
“Years ago, Glory was in another accident, the same one that killed her parents. She had a lot of injuries then, and my understanding is that Liz, in trying to help, offered one plastic surgery after another.”
Horrified, Kam sat forward, his every muscle clenched tight. “She was a kid.”
“Very much so, and she almost died with her parents. She had a broken shoulder, leg, ribs, nose, and jaw.”
Crushing pain settled around Kam’s heart. “To think what she went through . . .” He couldn’t bear it.
“You’ve met Liz. She’s not the overly maternal type. My guess is that she was trying to help in the only way she knew how.”
“By removing the scars.” And putting Glory through more pain, more stress.
Tanner shrugged.
Glory’s bedroom rules were starting to make sense, and he was so damned grateful that he’d never insisted, never tried to
coerce her into showing more. His heart thrashed in his chest, hard enough to rattle his frame. Or maybe that was anger and
pity shaking him.
Being a big brother, Tanner draped an arm over his shoulders. “You thought she was too perfect when you first met her.”
“Physically, she still is.”
Tanner nodded. “Now that we’ve gotten to know her, she’s as real as any woman can be. Flaws and all.”
Kam tried a deep breath, but it snagged in his throat.
Tanner clapped him on the back, and offered him a moment of privacy by saying, “Sit tight. I’m going to grab colas for us.”