"No!" His sudden roar echoed in the small, dark cabin, seemed absurdly out of place. Almost as if she'd struck a nerve with her quiet request.

She knew she should let it go, but she had a little strength right now, and a lot of desperation. He was the only way out of this hellhole; without him, she might never see Kelly again.

She looked up, saw again the raw pain in his eyes, and it moved her, made her feel as if she understood him just a little. That dizzying sense of deja vu came back, harder, stronger, as if they'd stood like this before, squared off and hurting, neither one able to reach out.

He grabbed her, yanked her toward him, and gave her a hard shake. "Quit looking at me like that." His voice was low and gravelly. "I can't help you."

"Killian?"

He pushed her away from him and spun away, pacing the small cabin. His every footstep was a pounding hammer of sound that rattled the floorboards.

She watched him, not knowing what to say. A sinking, panicked feeling clutched her insides. She wanted to reach out, to say just the right thing that would make him change his mind, but she couldn't think of anything except why! Why are you so unwilling to help me?

"Sit down," he said abruptly. "Supper's ready."

Lainie noticed the settings on the table for the first time. She walked over to the rickety wooden table and

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sat down, staring down at the bent, dented tin fork and scratched blue metal plate.

A strange, almost nostalgic emotion moved through her at the sight of the table. It was so damned ordinary. And yet ... so different. It was a stupid thing to realize right now, and had no bearing whatsoever on her situation, but no man had ever cooked for her before.

She scooted closer to the table, pressing her hands into her lap. She wasn't sure what to do right now? was she supposed to offer to help, or sit here like a bump on a log? What?

He appeared beside her, as if drawn by her thoughts. He plopped four steaming potato wedges on her plate, then forked a thick steak beside it. The aromas combined, threw her back in time for an instant, reminded her of a dozen ordinary, everyday moments she'd spent huddled with Kelly in their quiet kitchen.

Killian clanged the pot on the side of the table and settled across from her.

They sat there, neither looking up, neither speaking. Silence threw its thick, awkward net across them, drew them close and yet kept them strangely distant. The scratching whine of tin tines on metal plates underscored the quiet, gave it a melancholy edge.

Lainie slowly cut her steak, focusing on the ordinariness of the task. Taking a bite, she stared down at her plate, chewing as quietly as she could.

"You really have a daughter?"

She was so surprised by the question that she dropped her fork and jerked her head up. "Yeah."

He smiled, but it looked forced and stiff. "That's pretty hard to believe. You don't seem too ... motherly."

The statement hurt. She gave him an equally stiff smile. "You don't need anything special to be a mother, Killian, trust me. Rabbits eat their young."

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He stared at her, an unreadable emotion in his eyes. "I guess not ... if someone would let a kid smoke at eleven."

She froze, stunned by the intimacy of the insight. Her hand shook a little and she clenched it. She tried to glance away from him, but she couldn't. He was looking at her with a sadness, an understanding that shouldn't exist. It was a look that said he knew, that he'd somehow seen more of her than she'd wanted to reveal. "Yeah, well," she mumbled. "I'm not that kind of mother."

She watched him, waiting for him to say more, but he didn't speak again. He looked down and started eating once more. She did the same. After a while, the heaviness in the air started to seep away, melt into an almost companionable silence. She felt?crazily?as if they'd done this before.. . .

When she was finished, she pushed back in her chair and got to her feet. Across the table, he did the same. Without looking at each other, they started to clear the dishes away.

They both reached for the pan at the same time. Their fingers brushed. Lainie felt the heat of his skin against hers. She stiffened and drew in a sharp breath. Her head snapped up, their eyes locked.

For a split second she looked into his eyes and felt as if she'd known him all her life. She knew she should let go of the pan, fling her body backward, and get away from him. But she couldn't move. "Help me," she murmured in a quiet, trembling voice. "Take me home.. .."

Her jerked away from her. The pan clattered to the table between them, splashing cloudy water across the splintery wood. Staring at her, his eyes darkened by some pain she couldn't begin to understand, he backed away.

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Tags: Kristin Hannah Fiction
Source: readsnovelonline.net