I sat back in the leather seat, finding myself relaxed for the first time since…I didn’t know when. Hearing King talk about his grandmother made me forget my own troubles.

  “She sounds really special,” I agreed, then took another bite of my pizza.

  King reached over and grabbed another slice from the box. “That she most definitely is.”

  I finished off my slice and wiped my hands on a napkin before opening my water to take a drink. King glanced over at me then, and I lifted my eyes to his involuntarily. I could see the question in his eyes before he even asked.

  “Would you get all defensive and skittish on me again if I asked what happened to your face? Because if so, then forget it and pretend I asked if you’d ever ridden a horse.”

  Hearing him phrase it like that kept me from doing exactly as he’d suggested. It didn’t mean I was going to tell him who’d hurt me. But I also didn’t feel the pressure of having to tell him what had happened.

  “I’ve never even seen a horse up close,” I replied after a pause. I didn’t look at him again because if he was disappointed that I hadn’t answered the question he really wanted to know, I preferred not to see that.

  “Ah, that’s a damn shame. Everyone needs to experience the beauty of a horse up close,” he replied, not letting on that I’d ignored his other question at all. He would never know how grateful I was for him letting it go so easily.

  “Do you ride horses?” I asked him, finding myself more curious about him. His description and about his grandmother had intrigued me.

  He chuckled. “Oh, yeah. I do more than just ride. My family is in the racing horse business. We raise thoroughbreds. They’re a real work of art. It’s something that never gets old, watching one grow into a winner. Seeing it and knowing that one is going to be the one. It’s got the thing. What it takes. Something else,” he said with real passion in his voice.

  Hearing him talk about something he so clearly loved made me wish I had something like that. I couldn’t remember what I liked to eat, much less what I liked to do. Having all my decisions, desires, wants taken from me and being forced to become someone Hill wanted me to be had wiped me clean. I no longer knew who I was.

  Lost in my own thoughts, I fell silent. I didn’t want to ask King anything more about himself. The more he talked, the more it became all too clear how empty I was. I’d called it lost, but it wasn’t that. How could you be lost if you didn’t know who you were to start with? I tried to think back to a time when I’d had dreams. Before all those had been snatched from me, and the fairy tale had morphed into a nightmare. One that I hadn’t woken up from.

  Family. That was all I could remember wanting. To belong. To be loved. To have a place where I was important, needed, accepted. There were no other things I could recall wishing I had. Just that. Something that most people were born with. Given the moment they were conceived. It was a gift that came with life. Except for me. It was an unattainable object I couldn’t quite grasp.

  The times I would get settled into a foster family and it would begin to feel safe—like this might be permanent, that I had a chance at a real family—it would be snatched away. A foster mother would get cancer, a couple would divorce, someone would lose a job and need to move. Then, as I got older, the men…they’d look at me or treat me inappropriately. Women no longer wanted me in their home. It had been a vicious cycle, and fate had been against me.

  The blue lights flashing up ahead snapped me out of my thoughts as we slowed to a stop. My throat immediately constricted, and I gripped the door tightly. Unsure what I should do now. What if they were looking for me? Would they have found Hill already? Was there a search out for his missing wife? My heart slammed erratically in my chest. I had to do something. I couldn’t stay in this truck.

  “The way I see it is, we can get off at this exit and take a back road to my Maeme’s or wait through this here roadblock to get you to the bus stop. I’m gonna let you make that call.”

  I tore my eyes off the lights and stared at him. He was watching me. His eyes told me nothing. He wasn’t letting on if he knew I was about to have a full-blown panic attack.

  The corner of his wide mouth lifted just a touch. “Maeme’s banana pudding is real good. I think I said that already though.”

  Think. Think. Think. Breathe. Think.

  I swallowed nervously and studied the situation up ahead. There was a good chance this had nothing at all to do with me. That Hill was still lying in that living room in a pool of blood. Dead. Where I had left him without a backward glance.

  But could I take that chance?

  “If I’m getting off, then I need to know now. If we start moving, it’ll be too late,” he warned me.

  Jerking my gaze back to his, I decided I had only one option here. “Do you think your Maeme would mind me coming with you to dinner?” I asked.

  A slow smile spread across his handsome face. “No, sweets. She’d be tickled pink. She loves feeding folks almost as much as she loves me. And that’s saying a lot.” He turned on his blinker. “Banana pudding then?”

  I sucked in a breath, and then I nodded. “Yeah. Banana pudding.”

  • four •

  “My job was done.”

  King

  I let George Strait fill the silence instead of coaxing Rumor to talk. She was strung up tight again, and I knew she needed to be left alone to think. I almost felt guilty about the fucking cops. She’d been relaxed, talking, even smiling some. Then, she got a look at the police cars up ahead, and it was like a damn switch flipped. That had been the purpose, but still, part of me wanted to ease her again. I wasn’t sure I could do it so easily this time though.

  When we turned off I-20 onto the road that would take us to Maeme’s, Rumor seemed to snap out of her thoughts and sat up straight.

  “Where are we?” The panic in her voice didn’t surprise me. She hadn’t seemed to notice when we crossed the Georgia state line.

  “Madison. Maeme is about three miles down this road, and then we turn off onto a country road that leads down into her land. She owns forty-five acres of pecan trees that she makes a nice profit off of every fall, among other things.” That I was not about to get into.

  Rumor would jump out of the truck and take off back to the interstate on foot if she had any idea exactly what all Maeme was involved in.

  “We’re in…Georgia,” she said just above a whisper.

  “Yep. Madison, to be exact.”

  “Oh God,” she whispered, turning her head to stare out the passenger window.

  “Hey, Madison ain’t all that bad. I’ve lived my whole life here. It’s a nice little place. I promise.”

  She didn’t say anything, but she was clasping her hands so tightly together in her lap that I was afraid her nails were going to puncture her skin. The last thing she needed was more wounds. I still wasn’t sure what else was hurt on her, but from the way she was sitting and being careful with her right side, I’d say her ribs weren’t okay.

  “I think maybe it would be best if you could drop me at a bus station close to here or maybe just at the nearest service station. I can find another ride,” she said, then glanced at me warily.

  I shook my head. “No, sweets, I can’t do that. I already know what happens to you at service stations, all alone. And the nearest bus station is in Atlanta. It’s rush hour, and as helpful as I am and as pretty as you are, I’m still not willing to face that shit. Just come on to Maeme’s. Get you some dinner. You’ll be safe. I’d be willing to bet there isn’t a safer place in Georgia.”

  A panicked look came over her face. She was grasping at anything to change my mind.

  “We’re close to Atlanta?” she asked.

  “Yes, but we are gonna be back on a big ole piece of land, way off the road, in a farmhouse where whoever you’re running from isn’t gonna come looking for you. If they did, then they’d have to deal with Maeme, and, well, that’s something they wouldn’t do for long,” I assured her, then grinned. “Come on now. Relax. You are safe. I might not know what it is going on, but no one will find you. Whoever is looking, they won’t look here.”

  Her chin snapped up, and she narrowed her eyes. “Why do you think I’m worried someone is gonna find me?”

  I slowed the truck and turned onto the private drive that led to Maeme’s house. “You’ve been hit. Someone used you as a punching bag, and that ain’t a mark left by a woman. You have a suitcase you’re carrying around, and you are so scared of men that you literally tremble when they get near you. I pay attention. You needed help. I noticed it the moment I laid eyes on you. So, I did what I had been raised to do. I helped.” That was so far from the truth that hell should have opened up and swallowed me. What I’d been raised to do was not help. Not even close.

  She said nothing as I pulled the truck up to the farmhouse I’d been raised in. It wasn’t as big as my dad’s mansion where he lived with his fourth wife, who was only two years older than me, and my five-year-old half-sister, but it was a three-story gothic-style farmhouse with a wraparound porch.

  I parked and then turned to look at Rumor again. “We’re here.”

  She studied the house and looked around at the rows of pecan trees surrounding us for as far as the eye could see. “This isn’t a farmhouse,” she said.

  I shrugged. “Eh, it’s close enough. You ready?”

  She took a shaky breath, then nodded.

  I climbed out of the truck and went to get her suitcase as she opened her door. I left the luggage to go help her down. Whatever injury she had under her clothes didn’t need her jumping down. Not the way she was being so careful with it.

  “Let me help you,” I said.

  She stared at my outstretched hand as if she wasn’t sure she wanted to touch me. That was so foreign to me that I wasn’t sure how to even deal with it. Grasping, I tried to think of something to say to convince her to trust me.

  “If Maeme sees you getting out of my truck without my help, I won’t get the banana pudding,” I told her with a pleading look.

  Her lips twitched as if she might smile, but she didn’t. Finally, she slid her hand into mine, and I took all the weight I could as she stepped down. The wince on her face had me wishing I’d just picked her up, but that would have really scared the shit out of her.

  “You okay?” I asked as she inhaled sharply through her nose.

  She nodded. “Fine.”

  No, she wasn’t. She was hurt, and if I couldn’t get her to let me see it and help, then Maeme was gonna have to do it. Someone needed to see how bad it was. If she had cracked ribs, she needed them seen to. I headed over to get her suitcase and picked it up.

  “Just in time, and you brought a guest,” Maeme called out from the front porch. “What a nice surprise!”

  The instant ease to Rumor’s shoulders made me want to laugh. My grandmother had a way with people. She could work a crowd. Dad said I had gotten that from her. God knew I hadn’t gotten it from him.

  “Maeme,” I called out as we approached the porch. “This is Rumor. I found her needing some assistance down in Pensacola. Thought you might like some company and another mouth to feed.”

  Maeme’s smile widened as she put her hands on her hips. “Lord, what a pretty thing you are. I hope this one was a gentleman. He isn’t always. But I raised him the best I could. Now, come on in here and let me get you some sweet tea. I just made a fresh pitcher,” she crooned, walking over to put her hand on Rumor’s back.

  When Rumor flinched, Maeme froze, then looked from me to Rumor. “Is more than that lovely face of yours hurt?” she asked with a frown.

  I expected Rumor to deny it, as she had with me.

  “Yes,” she replied.

  Maeme shook her head. “A man who will lay his hand on a woman as sweet as you deserves a bullet in his head. Now, come on and let me tend to you.”

  Rumor walked inside, and Maeme looked back at me, then nodded her head once.

  My job was done.

  • five •

  “I’d dug myself a deep one by running.”

  Rumor

  From the way King had spoken of his grandmother and the house he had grown up in, I’d expected something smaller…and more farm-like. This was not a farmhouse. Well, maybe in one of those Home & Gardens magazines, but not in real life. The house wasn’t even decorated like a grandmother. Sure, there were photographs on the walls, and it had a homey, lived-in feeling, but in an elaborate interior-decorator way.

  “King, put her suitcase in the blue room,” Maeme instructed him. “I’ll bring her up there in a moment to check on her injuries. The others should be here in about ten minutes or so for dinner. You just make sure everyone waits on us in the dining room and stays out of the pudding.”

  The others? What others? King hadn’t said a thing about others. My eyes swung to see him walking toward the staircase. He didn’t turn around and look back at me. He hadn’t mentioned others. I’d thought this would be a hidden place I could stay until he could get me to a bus station.

  “I, uh, there is no need to take my suitcase upstairs,” I blurted. “I wasn’t going to intrude. King said we were coming here to eat while the traffic was heavy. Then, he’d take me to a bus station.”

  Maeme’s eyebrows rose, and her hands went to her hips. The petite woman looked surprisingly intimidating. Her short platinum bob was elegant, just as was her delicate bone structure. She was an attractive woman that I would guess was in her mid-seventies. Since King looked to be around thirty and she was his grandmother, I couldn’t imagine she was still in her sixties, although she could pass for it. Her cornflower-blue eyes were nowhere near the intense color of King’s, but they were lovely just the same.

  “In your condition? No. That will not be what happens. Someone has hurt you. I can see it clear as day. You will stay here and let me help you heal. Tomorrow, after a good night’s rest and a full belly, you can tell me exactly why you’re running, and I will fix it,” she informed me.

  Her blue eyes narrowed as if there was no room for argument. But she had no idea what she was asking. I could not bring what could possibly be coming for me to her doorstep.

  “Don’t argue with her,” King told me from the staircase.

  I swung my gaze to his, pleading silently for his help with this.

  He shrugged and nodded his head toward his grandmother. “When Maeme says she will fix it, she does.”

  “You promised,” I argued.

  The corner of his lips curled up. “Don’t believe every pretty face you meet, sweets. You should know by now, that’s a terrible fucking idea.”

  “King Chasen Salazar!” Maeme snapped angrily.

  “Sorry,” he replied obediently, but the glint in his eyes said no such thing.

  Realizing I’d lost what I thought was my way out of here, I decided to turn back to Maeme. It was clear that she called all the shots.

  “I have family in Louisiana,” I lied. I might have grown up in foster homes from Saint Helena Parish all the way down to Jefferson Parish, but there was no family for me there. It was just the only place I knew to go.

  The way Maeme studied me felt as if she could read every lie out of my mouth. “Maybe so, but that family let you get in this kinda shape. Can’t say they’re doing their job. Family protects. You come on up those stairs with me. There’s a bathroom that will be all yours. I’m gonna see what we are dealing with under that shirt of yours, then let you get cleaned up and comfortable.” Then, she motioned for me to follow King up the stairs with a stern no arguments accepted stance.

  I was angry with him. He’d fooled me, but he hadn’t hurt me. There was a difference. I followed King up the stairs. He didn’t say another word to me or even glance back in my direction. It was ridiculous to feel hurt by his betrayal when I had bigger problems. Real issues. But I was.

  We stopped at the second floor and went to the first door on the right. King opened the door and walked inside. Maeme was directly behind me, and I had no choice but to go inside the room. Not surprisingly, it was a beautiful bedroom with a king-size canopy bed sitting in the middle of the room on a raised platform. I assumed she called it the blue room because the walls were paneled but painted a soft blue. The bedding was a crisp white, as was the chiffon draped over the canopy. The windows had matching chiffon curtains that pooled on the floor. A white antique dresser and dressing table sat on opposite walls, and a lovely blue-and-white striped chaise lounge chair with a fluffy blue throw over the back of it sat in a corner with a floor lamp made of crystals to its side.

  “Put her suitcase on the luggage rack in the closet,” Maeme told King. “Then get downstairs before the boys arrive.”

  The boys? The others were boys? Something else King hadn’t told me. I should assume from here on out that everything he’d said was a lie.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he replied, opening the door on the left wall and walking inside, then turning on a light.

  I could see from here it was a large walk-in closet.

  “The bathroom is this way,” she informed me, walking to the door on the opposite side of the room and opening it. “Come on in here and show me what else has been done to you. I have supplies to ease the pain and some medicine that’ll help too. Just need to know what we are dealing with. Might require a doctor.”

  Panic seized me again, and I shook my head, backing up. The thought of running from this room and house played out in my head. King would catch me, and I had no vehicle to get far even if I tried.

  “I can’t go to a hospital or doctor for that matter. I need to just leave. I think it will be best for everyone. I can call a taxi. I don’t need the bus—”

  “Take a deep breath and calm down, Rumor,” Maeme said, closing the space between us and touching my arm lightly. “Ain’t no one going anywhere. Not even the hospital. We have a friend who is a medical doctor. He makes house calls. He is also real discreet. He will come here, fix you up, eat my chicken and dumplings, enjoy my banana pudding, and be happy as a clam to do it.”