Her Mistletoe Protector - Page 18

She nodded, indicating she’d heard him. “Joey, sweetheart, listen to me. Everything’s going to be okay. But I need you to tell me who your favorite basketball player is. Can you do that for me?”

“K-Kirk Hinrich.”

Yes! The starting point guard for the Chicago Bulls was Joey’s favorite player. “That’s good, Joey. I love you. I’m going to get you out of there soon, okay?”

“That’s enough.” A mechanically distorted voice broke into her conversation with her son. “We will give you details about the exchange soon.”

“Wait!” she shouted, but nothing but silence was on the other end. She stabbed the button on her phone to call the blocked number back, but all she heard was a weird click then nothing. It took every ounce of willpower she possessed not to scream in frustration. But nothing could stop her tears.

“Don’t cry, Rachel,” Nick said in a low, soothing voice. “We’re better off now than we were a few minutes ago. At least we know Joey’s alive and that they’re going to set up the exchange.”

Nick was right, but she couldn’t seem to stem the flowing tears. Just hearing Joey’s voice made her furious with the kidnappers all over again. Her son was alone and afraid. “We have to find him,” she sobbed.

He reached over the back of the seat to gently squeeze her shoulder. “We will. Remember God is watching over him, too.”

Despite how she’d already prayed twice for her son’s safety, Nick’s words were far from reassuring. Because suddenly she couldn’t understand why, if there really was a God, He would put an innocent nine-year-old boy in this kind of danger.

“I don’t believe that,” she said abruptly, pulling away from his reassuring touch. She used the bottom of her sweatshirt to mop her face. “I don’t trust a God who allows my son to be in danger. And I can’t understand how you could believe that, either.”

Nick stared at her for a long minute, his gaze shadowed by a deep sorrow, before he wordlessly turned away and began driving again.

She ducked her head, swiping away the moisture from her cheeks. She shouldn’t feel guilty for hurting him, but she did. Yet, at the same time, she couldn’t bring herself to apologize, either.

Right now, nothing mattered except Joey. That was how she’d lived her life since leaving Anthony. A woman on a mission to provide a normal life for her son, keeping him safe from harm.

This wasn’t the time to allow herself to get distracted. By Nick or by the God he believed in.

* * *

Nick drove to the truck stop he’d passed earlier, so they could use the restrooms and get something to eat. He tried not to be hurt by Rachel’s anger as he understood, better than most, what she was going through. He’d been angry with God, too, at first when he’d discovered his wife and child had died. Anger was a normal part of the grief process, but that didn’t mean he was giving up on her.

He’d continue praying for both Joey and Rachel.

Besides, she needed to cling to the knowledge of her son being safe and sound. There was still hope that they could figure out a way to get him back.

Rachel didn’t say anything when he pulled into the truck stop parking lot, bringing the car to a halt between a pair of twin semitrailers. He climbed out of the driver’s seat and then glanced back at her. “I thought we’d clean up in the restrooms first. I’ll meet you in the diner in about fifteen minutes or so, okay?”

She nodded and pushed her way out of the car to join him. Wordlessly, they walked inside together before splitting up.

His stomach growled and the scent of bacon and eggs caused him to hurry. He scrubbed his hands over his rough stubble, wishing he had a razor. When he finished up in the restroom, he slid into a booth next to the door and perused the menu while he waited for Rachel.

She joined him a few minutes later and he didn’t waste any time in placing their orders. Once they were alone with their coffee, he leaned forward and said firmly, “We need to figure out what to do from here, Rachel. Ten million is a lot of money.”

“I know.” She stared at her coffee, her hands huddled around it for warmth, but she didn’t drink any.

“I know you’re the CEO and president of your company, but are you really going to be able to get that much together?”

Slowly, she shook her head. “The economy has been tough, and we’ve had a large class-action lawsuit that has eaten away a significant portion of our profits.”

Tags: Laura Scott Suspense
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