The Summer He Came Home (Bad Boys of Crystal Lake 1)
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But had she really expected the fantasy to last? She’d played with fire, and only a fool would believe the burn wouldn’t hurt.
Maggie threw her cell back into her bag without answering.
She couldn’t worry about Cain. He was a big boy.
She’d worry about herself later too. At the moment her only concern was Michael.
On second thought, she reached for her phone and hit speed dial. Raine answered before the second ring. “Maggie?”
“I need you to do a favor.”
“Where are you?”
“I’m on my way home. Can you do something for me?”
“Maggie, of course, anything.”
“Cain has Michael. Can you get him and bring him home?”
“But Maggie, you need to talk to Cain.”
“I need for my son to be home. Can you get him or no?” She was abrupt and didn’t care.
Raine sighed. “I’m heading out of the parking lot from the Super Saver now and will swing by the football field.”
Maggie tossed her cell into her bag and stared out the window. In the distance dark gray clouds were blowing in. Angry clouds filled with menace. How appropriate.
The train had just derailed, and there was no doubt in her mind. She was about to get run over.
Chapter 29
Cain saw Maggie about a minute before she realized he was there. He’d parked in the driveway but had spent the last five minutes pacing up and down her porch, trying to get rid of the nervous energy that hung low in his gut.
She moved up the street, her steps quick, her head bowed. A large bag hung off her shoulde
r, and she was hunched forward as if trying to ward off something.
He cursed, pissed at himself. He’d let his guard down. A lame-ass move, and now she was going to pay for it.
Maggie glanced up then, and he clenched his hands at the look in her eyes. It was back. The deer-in-headlights thing was back, and it was his fault.
“Where’s Michael?” A hint of panic rolled beneath her words. Her Southern accent was much more pronounced, and she couldn’t hide her fear.
“Jake took him back to the lake, but Raine knows he’s there. She called me.”
Maggie blew out a shaky breath, and her expression changed. It wasn’t so much that her features physically moved. It was subtle, like a shadow creeping across her eyes. She squared her shoulders and marched up her narrow walkway, shoved her way past him, and unlocked her front door. She slipped inside, and he followed, wishing she’d at least yell. Throw something. Do something.
The silent treatment left him uneasy.
She let her bag fall to the ground, and a copy of Hollywood Scene slipped out. He stared at the cover, wincing again at the bold headline.
“Maggie, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to say. I had no idea there were paparazzi in town. Hell, why would I? They’ve never followed me before unless Natasha was around.”
She walked into her kitchen without a word, and again he followed. Two wineglasses were pulled down from her cupboard, and she filled them with some merlot left over from a few nights back.
She treated herself to a generous gulp and moved away from the sink, leaving his glass behind. The unease in his chest tightened, gripped him in a band of tension that made it difficult to breathe. His eyes followed her as she slipped out the back door and disappeared into her yard.
Still without uttering a single word.