The Hero's Redemption

Tears stung her eyes, but she didn’t let them fall in case they woke him up. When she eventually felt him stir, she slipped out of bed. By the time she showered and emerged from the bathroom, he’d gotten dressed and gone downstairs.

He was beating something in a bowl when she reached the kitchen. Scrambled eggs?

“French toast,” he said, glancing over his shoulder. “I liked it when you made it, and we have that loaf of sourdough bread.”

“Yum.”

Aching inside, she couldn’t help watching this big, muscular, incredibly sexy man in the kitchen, deftly turning battered toast and transferring it to a plate.

Not until he’d served them both and they’d taken a few bites did he say, “I have an appointment in Marysville this morning to look at a basement apartment. It’s not great, but it is cheap and furnished.”

Erin nodded without looking up. He must have made that appointment before they went to bed last night.

Cole didn’t immediately resume eating. “You okay this morning?”

“Okay?” She finally lifted her head. “Oh, you mean after the nightmare. Sure.” She smiled and waved a forkful of French toast. “This is good.” It smelled wonderful, even if her taste buds were numb.

“What are you up to this morning?” he asked after a while.

“Don’t know. I’ll figure it out after I have some coffee.”

He nodded, not quite looking at her.

Neither said much after that. Somehow, she wasn’t surprised when he decided to shower at the apartment, and left without coming back to the house.

Erin cleaned up the kitchen, getting madder and madder even as her desolation grew. Why hadn’t he gone the night he told her he intended to, right after that cop came looking for him? He would’ve saved her a world of hurt. He shouldn’t have taken the job for Lottie Price, she thought, steaming. If he’d left back then, a month ago, she might be well into recovery, instead of feeling as if quicksand was sucking her under.

Looked like she’d parked her pride in the garage and thrown away the key. She’d let him use her this week. Wanting to have every minute she could with him before he moved on? Bad decision, even self-destructive. Had the same impulse that impelled her to speed recklessly also pushed her to hurt herself in another way? She couldn’t know, but…when he got home, she’d tell him he needed to stay in the apartment until he had someplace to go.

Now, alone, she let the tears stream down her face and thought, I’m done.

* * *

COLE HAD JUST left the freeway at the northern exit for Marysville when his phone rang. He was so startled he jerked the wheel and came close to climbing the curb. Damn.

He steered into a gas station parking lot and checked the phone. Local number he didn’t know. Please, not a cop.

“Cole here,” he said cautiously.

“My name’s Tom Phillips. Got an application you emailed yesterday.”

His heart took a hard thud. “Yes, sir.” Would the man have called to say, Why did you waste my time?

“I’m at a job site in Arlington. Any chance you can run out here so we can talk?”

“Sure, no problem. Where is it?”

“You have GPS?”

“Not in my old truck. But if you give me directions, I’ll find it.”

Call over, he sat stunned. An interview. A chance.

Maybe the guy hadn’t noticed the answer to “Have you been convicted of a crime?”

Nobody ever seemed to miss that.

Cole called the guy about the apartment in Marysville and explained that he had a job interview. He’d call back when he could make it. He could hear the shrug when the owner said, “At this price, it won’t last long. Your loss.”

That might be true. It was the first real apartment, versus a room for rent, that he’d thought he could afford. On the other hand, from the pictures on Craigslist it looked like a pit. And if he got hired for a real job, one with the kind of wages paid for skilled construction workers, he could afford a step up from that place. Depending on where this Phillips guy had jobs, Marysville might not be ideal, anyway.

Don’t get too excited.

Cole sat for another few minutes before he felt calm enough to drive.