lawyer. I’m sure whatever you signed, you can revoke.”
Her head up, she scooped up her purse and strode away.
No one tried to stop her. Behind her, Bridget said, “Rose, one of my friends works at the D.A.’s. She’ll tell me the names of the best lawyer around. I won’t let them harm you.”
As Cassie opened the hall door, Olivia and Donovan spoke at the same time. Donovan’s tone rough and Olivia’s sharp. Then Rose joined them, hers wobbly but growing stronger.
Cassie stepped into the hall and slammed the door shut, the thick wood shutting off the voices. Beneath her blouse, her armpits prickled with heat and her heart was racing. As if she’d walked out of a nightmare.
Rose’s nightmare. Her own with her family was over because she’d walked away from them.
The reminder of how cruel families could be made her want to run, run, run. Run until she was at the hotel in Luke’s arms.
Thank God she wouldn’t have to go back to Rose’s place. Nothing Rose said would convince her.
Chapter 4
Cassie peered at her early morning visitors and felt as if she’d climbed halfway out of hell instead of the king-sized bed she’d shared with Luke. The evening with Luke’s friends at the blues bar last night had been surprisingly fun. They’d taken her at face value as the woman who was making Luke happy. That’s all they’d needed to accept her. Especially since he wasn’t normally a happy kind of a guy.
Neither was she. Not this morning, anyway. The third tequila sunrise last night had been a mistake for someone whose usual alcoholic intake was one glass of wine. Even without the throbbing in her right eye, she didn’t think she could bring herself to smile at Rose Bellington or Rose’s young neighbor, whose name she couldn’t recall. Both of them standing in the suite’s ultra modern sitting room, looking at her as if she were their last hope.
She didn’t want to be anyone’s last hope. At least, not any live person’s.
She crossed her arms. Luke was still snoring in their bedroom, in too deep of a sleep for the ringing cell phone to have bothered him. Or the ghost girl who kept telling Cassie to wake up, someone wanted to talk to her.
Right now, Cassie wished she would’ve ignored the ghost instead of picking up the phone and finding out the two women were in the lobby.
So here she was, wearing the black jeans and black top from last night. Easy to pick up from the chair she’d thrown them on, wiggling into them while the two women took the elevator to the eighth floor.
“We woke you,” Rose said. “I’m sorry.”
Her frowning friend didn’t look sorry. “We wouldn’t have come if it wasn’t important.”
Rose’s eyes moistened. “I didn’t tell you everything yesterday.”
Alarm slithered up Cassie’s spine, waking her fully even without coffee. “I don’t want to know everything.”
“You have to. Once you do, you’ll understand.”
Cassie didn’t want to understand. She just wanted to get rid of last night’s clothes and crawl back under the covers and spoon up to her handsome and sexy and sometimes irritating but never boring husband. A man who surprisingly loved her, with all her prickles and distrust and a boat load of faults. A man she surprisingly loved, with all his prickles and distrust and a navy destroyer load of faults.
“Why aren’t you at the lawyer’s?” she asked, and immediately knew she’d said the wrong thing. Her question implied she wanted to hear the answer.
She opened her mouth to take the question back when Rose swayed. The other woman—Bridget, Cassie thought, her brain cells crawling out of their alcoholic sludge—put her arm around Rose’s back.
“May we sit?” Bridget asked.
“Of course,” Cassie said with a lack of enthusiasm that didn’t stop Rose from tottering to a pale buttery leather sofa. Bridget sat next to her. Both of them looked at her expectantly.
She took a chair across from them, the
Her head up, she scooped up her purse and strode away.
No one tried to stop her. Behind her, Bridget said, “Rose, one of my friends works at the D.A.’s. She’ll tell me the names of the best lawyer around. I won’t let them harm you.”
As Cassie opened the hall door, Olivia and Donovan spoke at the same time. Donovan’s tone rough and Olivia’s sharp. Then Rose joined them, hers wobbly but growing stronger.
Cassie stepped into the hall and slammed the door shut, the thick wood shutting off the voices. Beneath her blouse, her armpits prickled with heat and her heart was racing. As if she’d walked out of a nightmare.
Rose’s nightmare. Her own with her family was over because she’d walked away from them.
The reminder of how cruel families could be made her want to run, run, run. Run until she was at the hotel in Luke’s arms.
Thank God she wouldn’t have to go back to Rose’s place. Nothing Rose said would convince her.
Chapter 4
Cassie peered at her early morning visitors and felt as if she’d climbed halfway out of hell instead of the king-sized bed she’d shared with Luke. The evening with Luke’s friends at the blues bar last night had been surprisingly fun. They’d taken her at face value as the woman who was making Luke happy. That’s all they’d needed to accept her. Especially since he wasn’t normally a happy kind of a guy.
Neither was she. Not this morning, anyway. The third tequila sunrise last night had been a mistake for someone whose usual alcoholic intake was one glass of wine. Even without the throbbing in her right eye, she didn’t think she could bring herself to smile at Rose Bellington or Rose’s young neighbor, whose name she couldn’t recall. Both of them standing in the suite’s ultra modern sitting room, looking at her as if she were their last hope.
She didn’t want to be anyone’s last hope. At least, not any live person’s.
She crossed her arms. Luke was still snoring in their bedroom, in too deep of a sleep for the ringing cell phone to have bothered him. Or the ghost girl who kept telling Cassie to wake up, someone wanted to talk to her.
Right now, Cassie wished she would’ve ignored the ghost instead of picking up the phone and finding out the two women were in the lobby.
So here she was, wearing the black jeans and black top from last night. Easy to pick up from the chair she’d thrown them on, wiggling into them while the two women took the elevator to the eighth floor.
“We woke you,” Rose said. “I’m sorry.”
Her frowning friend didn’t look sorry. “We wouldn’t have come if it wasn’t important.”
Rose’s eyes moistened. “I didn’t tell you everything yesterday.”
Alarm slithered up Cassie’s spine, waking her fully even without coffee. “I don’t want to know everything.”
“You have to. Once you do, you’ll understand.”
Cassie didn’t want to understand. She just wanted to get rid of last night’s clothes and crawl back under the covers and spoon up to her handsome and sexy and sometimes irritating but never boring husband. A man who surprisingly loved her, with all her prickles and distrust and a boat load of faults. A man she surprisingly loved, with all his prickles and distrust and a navy destroyer load of faults.
“Why aren’t you at the lawyer’s?” she asked, and immediately knew she’d said the wrong thing. Her question implied she wanted to hear the answer.
She opened her mouth to take the question back when Rose swayed. The other woman—Bridget, Cassie thought, her brain cells crawling out of their alcoholic sludge—put her arm around Rose’s back.
“May we sit?” Bridget asked.
“Of course,” Cassie said with a lack of enthusiasm that didn’t stop Rose from tottering to a pale buttery leather sofa. Bridget sat next to her. Both of them looked at her expectantly.
She took a chair across from them, the
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