Page 37 of Finding Amanda

White-knuckled, her hands clasped each other and held on tight.

He laid one hand over hers, easily covering her small fist. With his other hand, he nudged her chin up until she met his eyes. "I promise that man will not hurt you."

She took a deep breath, a normal breath, and blew it out. "Okay."

"I'm coming over. We can talk?—"

"Tonight won't work.” She looked toward the studio door. “I have to fix dinner and give the girls baths. There won't be any time."

"Amanda—"

The door to the studio opened, and the girls filed out. Amanda jerked from his grasp, and his hand felt colder than it had all day.

"Daddy, I thought you came to watch us." Sophie propped her hands against her hips, her bottom lip stuck out in a pout.

He gently tugged his daughter's brown ponytail. "I watched you almost the whole time. I just sat down to talk to your mom."

"But you didn't see me!"

"Did I miss something important?"

"It's okay. I'll do it again." Sophie stood on her tiptoes and spun in a circle.

"Wow! That was so good."

"Watch me, Daddy." Madi imitated her big sister, twirling in a circle. Meanwhile, the room filled with pink-clad girls and their harried moms.

"That's enough, girls," Amanda said. "Daddy has to go."

"How about I come over and tuck you girls in tonight?"

"Mark—"

"Yay!" Madi yelled. "Can you come over now?"

A quick glance at Amanda's irritated expression, and Mark knew the answer to that. "I have some errands to run, but I promise I'll be over before bedtime. Be good for your mom, and I'll read you a story."

CHAPTER NINE

Amanda should have used the time wisely. It was nice having Mark there to help with the girls. Before he'd moved out, he'd tucked them in a few nights a week, giving Amanda time to tidy up the kitchen or check her emails or her calendar for the following day. That's probably what she should have done tonight.

Instead, she stood in the kitchen and fed each of the roses into the garbage disposal, one by one.

As soon as they'd gotten home that night, the girls had oohed and aahed over the flowers—her own stupid fault for moving them from her office to the kitchen. Having her daughters near anything that came from Sheppard made her sick.

Their sweet scent mixed with the remnants of the day's garbage in the disposal and made her stomach roil. She swallowed rising bile and fed another flower to the monster. If she ruined the thing, she didn't care. Mark could install another one. It would be worth the cost.

Twelve flowers, down the drain. She turned to grab the vase to find Mark standing behind the bar, watching her. His lips twitched at the corners. "Shall we take it outside and smash it?"

She considered it. "If I thought we could get rid of all the fragments. But with my luck, one of the girls would cut herself, and we'd end up in the ER because of him."

Mark's smile faded. "That's what I'm worried about, Amanda—you ending up in the E.R., or worse."

"Gabriel won't hurt me," she said, though the knot in her stomach tightened. She grabbed the vase off the counter and made her way toward the front door. "I'm going to throw this out."

He reached for the vase. "Here, let me."

"I've got it." She yanked open the door and slid into the cold night. The scent of a wood fire filled the air. The bins were on the far side of the house next to the garage. Just as Amanda reached them, she felt Mark's presence behind her. "I can do it myself." She hadn't meant to sound angry, but her frustration always managed to vent itself onto Mark.

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