Torn, Mike nodded and turned to leave. His father was in caring hands.
Mike didn’t know whether or not Amber was in trouble, but he wasn’t ignoring his gut. If Marshall was in town, Amber had to be his target. He already had his money. Who else would he be looking for?
And if her ex-partner had seen her meeti
ng with King Bobby in the diner, he might assume Amber had betrayed him. Marshall hadn’t struck Mike as being the nonviolent type when they’d met in Vegas. He had to get to Amber and make certain she was safe.
BY THE TIME Amber had extricated herself and Gabrielle from the reporters, Derek had arrived in town to retrieve his wife. Along with Clara and Edward, they’d retreated to Derek’s office for privacy. Mike’s cousin was furious Gabrielle had kept him in the dark, ecstatic she was pregnant and worried that Edward would snap at any moment. His office was the nearest place to calm everyone down. Although they’d invited Amber to join them, she’d declined. She wasn’t family and never would be, something she needed to accept sooner rather than later.
But to do so, she needed to leave town and get away from Mike, his family and the memories she’d created in such a short time.
To let go, she needed to go.
So she’d walked down Main Street alone and finding it difficult to breathe, the pain of loss overwhelming. She didn’t have a plan, but she had ideas. Careerwise, she’d definitely go back to work for the Crown Chandler if they’d have her, preferably in Vegas near her father. She’d rent a small room instead of paying a mortgage or rent, and cut back on the luxuries. Anything to keep her father comfortable and still enable her to live her own life.
Without Mike.
She shook her head, caught her breath and continued to walk along the sidewalk, heading for the bus station. Since she was no longer trying to hide her whereabouts, she could use her credit card to go home, but flying was out of the question. She still needed to be frugal since she’d have to save as much as possible in order to keep her father in his current home. But she didn’t have to panic.
At this point, she had time, knowing her savings would keep him there for a few months more while she came up with a plan of action. Those savings were the cushion she hadn’t had when Sam had been diagnosed. The reason she’d contacted Marshall, which had set her on this painful course.
But she didn’t regret meeting and marrying Mike. This past week had been the best of her life. She knew now she could never settle for less than everything. She understood what it meant to care so much she’d come to think of his family as her own. And she discovered how her past could affect the future. Her choices would be made with greater care from this point on.
She strode into the Greyhound station and paid for a bus ticket to Boston. From there she’d travel home over the course of three transfers and three days.
Her bus didn’t leave for over an hour so she wandered outside. On the sidewalk outside the station, a few people milled around, but overall, the place was pretty empty.
A car honked, taking her off guard.
She turned. For a foolish moment, her heart tripped as she looked, hoping Mike had come after her. Instead, she saw Marshall pull up beside her in a burgundy rental car.
She narrowed her gaze, surprised he’d resurfaced.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
Now. After she’d settled her problems with King Bobby and no longer needed him.
“That’s no greeting, baby. Get in so we can talk.”
She shook her head. “I have a bus to catch.”
“No problem, then I’ll get out.” He parked his car in front of the station in a No Parking zone. But then in Marshall’s mind, the rules never applied to him.
She started to walk toward the door, hoping to lead him inside where she felt safer.
But when Marshall joined her, he hooked his arm through hers and steered her straight along the sidewalk outside the bus station. “You’ve been a busy girl, running off on me, getting married, and then hiding out here in a small Podunk town. What’s going on with you?”
Amber stopped in her tracks. “Are you crazy?” She looked him over. In his jeans and mock short-sleeve turtleneck and leather jacket, he looked over-dressed for the heat, but every inch the slick Marshall she knew. “You know exactly what’s going on with me. You left me high and dry while that big Texan came after me for money you stole,” she said, her voice rising.
He shook his head and laughed. “Come on, that’s water under the bridge. I knew King Bobby wouldn’t hurt a woman. I was just waiting until the heat was off to come find you.”
“So you hid behind my skirts? That’s low, even for you,” she muttered.
He gripped her arm tight and she realized her mistake. She’d let his friendly veneer fool her into thinking she was safe.
“Drop the tough-guy routine, Marshall, it’s me. We can talk this through.” She hoped. “What is it you want?”
“You. Me. Things back the way they were.” His voice held a hint of desperation, but he released his grip, which told her he was sure he could reason with her.