Redemption Chapter Thirteen
Molly didn’t know how she held a smile and managed to laugh at Cody’s excitement. He spoke about fishing with his grandfather, and how big the bass was—which turned out to be at least a hundred feet bigger every time Cody mentioned it. She idly nodded in the right spots, making a comment of ‘wow’ or ‘jeez’ at certain intervals.
Her mind raced over the letter. Each word, the mention of things changing—it all burned into her mind. If someone figured out who she was, Molly could be putting the Spencers at risk. They were going to get hurt because of her. Molly could have left days ago, but they were so welcoming and so kind to her, a touch of the family Molly had always yearned for. It’d been selfish of her to get so caught up in their lives, but for a brief period, she wished it were her life too.
And then there was Aidan.
At the mere thought of him, her heart skipped a beat and goose bumps rushed over her arms. A chill slithered down her spine and her belly tightened with desire. Over the last week, their long conversations, and nights sitting on the front porch—if she were honest, Molly cared for him much more than she should.
“Miss Molly, you should come with us next time.” Cody’s excited voice drew her back to reality, her cheeks flushing, even though Cody couldn’t see inside her head.
Having a hard time keeping his pole up right, Molly helped him, putting it in the corner of the shed.
“Hmm, where?”
He giggled. “Fishing!”
Right. They’d been talking about fishing. Molly realized she should have been watching out for anything unusual, instead of daydreaming about Aidan and his rippling muscles.
She flushed again and cleared her throat. “Maybe next time.”
Ruffling his hair, Molly kept an eye on the surrounding yard. Waves rolled onto the sand of the beach that stretched for miles. There weren’t any nearby houses. It would be difficult to sneak up on the place without someone noticing. Unless it were the middle of the night and everyone were sleeping in their beds. It would have been better to just attack, without warning. She wondered why someone would tip their hand, but she realized not everyone was rationale.
The shed echoed when it closed and they went back inside.
Tidwell stood in the kitchen with the others. Heather, who’d been out at the market came over, and took Cody.
“Come on,” she smiled at them both, and guided Cody along. “Let’s go get you washed up.”
Molly stepped forward toward the others in the kitchen. Her feet dragged, labored, slow, and the only explanation being that at some point, when she wasn’t looking, someone poured cement into the bottom of her shoes. Hushed voices changed the normal comfortable atmosphere of the house into a sense of dread. Heather’d been smart in getting Cody out of the mix. The kid didn’t need any more heartache, not after his mother.
“And you’ve no idea who might have sent this?” Tidwell asked wearing rubber gloves as he inspected the note.
Aidan shook his head, arms crossed, one hand pensively stroking his chin. “No. It was just tucked in the paper this morning. The only thing I can think of is that maybe one of Blake’s groupies followed me home from the execution.”
Krysta rubbed his back in a gentle, circular motion. “Blake had a daughter, didn’t he? You think she’s trying to get retribution?”
Molly sucked in a sharp breath, her fingers curling into the mold of her cast. She didn’t try to run over Cody or send any threatening letters, but she couldn’t exactly say that without revealing her past. Even now, her tongue felt thick and clumsy in her mouth when she thought of uttering the words.
“Could be,” Tidwell agreed. “Or one of Blake’s followers. Like Aidan said, he had people who worshipped him.”
Molly’d read about that. There were rumors they’d tried to find her a few times. The infamous daughter of Peter Blake. She was glad WITSEC had been able to keep her under wraps. Having people follow her around, worship her because she was Blake’s daughter—she shivered just thinking about it.
Aidan’s gaze rested on her a moment. To avert it, she studied the tan linoleum tile beneath their feet. If she came clean, it wouldn’t be in front of a group. Not like this. It shouldn’t be a spectacle.
“I can make a call,” Krysta said. “My office has some favors owed by WITSEC. I can have them get you a safe house until this is all over.”
“I’m not leavin’ my home,” Corbett said. His deep baritone made Molly jump. He’d been quiet till then.
“Cor—”
“No,” he shook his head. “I’ll not be terrorized again. My family won’t be hurt again.”
Molly swallowed, her throat constricting around emotion.
Tidwell eyed her, making her shift uncomfortably. “What about you, Miss Harper? You know anyone who might do this sorta thing?”
He knows!
Her breath increased and she closed her eyes, shaking her head.
“Hey,” Aidan said. “Molly?”
Despite standing just next to her, his voice seemed far away. Starbursts in various colors of the rainbow washed behind her lids. The rhythm of her heart drowned everything else out.
“Molly.” A hand gripped her shoulder, and she trembled, jerking back, tripping on her heel.
Aidan reached out and grabbed her by the arm steadying her before she hit the ground. “Whoa, hey you’re okay.”
Despite his reassurance, she couldn’t catch her breath. The world tinged at the edges.
Aidan moved his hands to her shoulders. He dipped his head, moving into her line of sight. “Just look at me. Just like before right? You can do this.”
She held his gaze, falling into the deep blue of his eyes. There were specs of hazel just around the iris she’d never noticed before. He smiled and a dimple peeked out of his right cheek just behind the blond beard on his face.
The world slowed. A sense of lethargy washing over her after the anxiety ran its course, leaving her muscles heavy and her brain foggy.
Aidan’s lips looked soft. A small line sat in the middle of his lower lip, like it had been split or cracked once. Shivers ran across her spine and she licked her own lips without realization. The memory of their kiss at the store felt almost physical. She wanted to taste him again, to slide her hands underneath his shirt, and explore his body by touch.
“Are you okay?” Krysta appeared out of nowhere, standing next to them. Her words didn’t seem to hold any worry, but her gaze held contempt.
She couldn’t blame Krysta.
Molly pulled back sheepishly and nodded. “I…sorry. I have panic attacks sometimes.”
“You should probably see a doctor about that,” Krysta said in a clipped tone.
“It was a good stall tactic to my question anyways,” Tidwell said.
“For Christ’s sake, Tidwell, give it a rest,” Corbett said. “Molly doesn’t have anything to do with this!”
“Well, we’ll see about that.” He tipped his hat back. “I’ll get this to the lab. See if they can pull any prints off it besides Aidan’s. You sure there’s nothing I should know about, Miss Harper?”
Molly shook her head.
Tidwell gave a curt nod. “I’ll have Deputies outside the place at all times. If you’re looking to go somewhere, take one of them with you. It’ll be safer that way till we can figure out who’s behind this.”
He walked away, and Molly went over and sat in one of the stools. Corbett sat down, putting a hand on her shoulder. The sun had only been up a few hours and Molly felt like she’d been up for days. She wanted to curl in bed, pull the blankets up, and let the mattress swallow her into oblivion.
“Aidan, can I talk to you?” Krysta took his hand.
He nodded. “Yeah. Come on.”
They walked past into the living room, Aidan stealing a glance at Molly along the way.
“You worried it’s that fella you ran from,” Corbett asked.
Molly snapped her head up, brown eyes filled with surprise. “I…”
Corbett squeezed her shoulder giving her a kind smile. “Most probably it’s not, but, if it is he’s gotta get through all of us to get to you.”
She shook her head. “I don’t want that. I don’t ever want anyone getting hurt because of me.”
The anxiety that washed away flooded back with a vengeance. The invisible hand squeezed her lungs without mercy.
Getting up, Corbett went to the cabinet and took out a medicine bottle. He shook out a small pill and put the rest away. “This’ll help with that anxiety.” He poured a glass of water.
“What is it?” She took the pill and water from him, hesitating.
“Just a Valium. Trust me.”
Molly almost said no, but she needed to calm down and think. Maybe, with the aid of the Valium, she could clear her mind enough to find the courage to tell them the truth.
Or at least make her not care.
She took the pill.
“Thanks.”
He poured himself some coffee and leaned back against the counter. “This isn’t your fault. No matter what Tidwell might be trying to imply.”
The Valium started working its way through her system, making her muscles relax. She rubbed her eyes. “It might be.”
Corbett sipped his coffee and shook his head. “I don’t think so. I suspect if it’s that man you’re running from, then it’s not your fault he chased you. I also figure if it’s someone who’s associated with Blake, that you being his kin isn’t something you ever asked for.”
Molly’s head jerked up, her mouth slightly parted. “I…you know?”
Despite the drug, her heart thudded against her chest. She clutched the edge of the counter to keep steady as the world tilted around her.
He nodded. “You might be older, with a different name, but you still have the same eyes.”
“Blake’s eyes.” She looked away in shame.
“No.”
Sucking in a breath, Molly clenched her fists. She’d worked for years to stay out of the shadow of her father. Without plastic surgery, she couldn’t change the physical features that gave them likeness—but Molly wasn’t her father. Lifting her chin, she met Corbett’s gaze again.
“You may have the same color eyes, but when you were little, I remember wondering how such a cruel man, could have such an innocent daughter.” He sipped his coffee. “And that you were too young to be so sad.”
“If you knew, why’d you let me into your home?”
“Because,” Corbett said. “You’re not your father, and you don’t deserve to be punished for his crimes.”
A sentiment Molly disagreed with. She could have turned him in sooner. She could have saved more women. Peter Blake had taken those women because of her.
“Besides,” he said before she could think of anything to say. “You saved my grandson. Without hesitation. That says something about a person.”
She shook her head. “Anyone would do that.”
“No.” Corbett put his cup in the sink. “They wouldn’t.”
“Does Aidan know?”
He shook his head. “No. And, I can’t say how he’ll take it, but it’s your place to tell him, when you’re ready. In the meantime, whatever this trouble is, we’ll handle it.” Corbett walked past, squeezing her shoulder. “All of us.”
