Page 24 of Deliver Me

He sat down in the chair beside her and picked up her book to examine the cover. “Yeah, well, things seemed a little awkward between us. I thought maybe you might like some space.”

“That was very kind of you.”

“You seemed upset,” he said, pushing gently for an explanation that she wasn’t certain she wanted to give, “like maybe you were angry.”

“I was,” she admitted, knowing it wouldn’t do her any good to pretend otherwise.

“Why?” He looked genuinely shocked.

“You blamed me for something that wasn’t my fault. The sin those boys committed was their own … and your answer was bullshit.”

He leaned back, frowning at her uncharacteristically combative tone and vulgar language. “Look, what I said …”

“Was wrong.” She leaned over and took her book from his hands, returning it to the pile as he bristled defensively.

“You know, Lilly told me about that guy you’ve been writing to. The murderer. She’s worried about you and maybe she was right to be. I didn’t want to have to go to your father, but your behavior lately ...”

“Please, do tell my father. I’m sure he’ll think it’s a fascinating story since he’s been well aware of my participation in that particular church program.”

She made no attempt to conceal her animosity as she gathered her things. “You don’t actually know me, and I don’t need your protection. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m expecting a phone call.”

She swept from the room without a backward glance, but her teeth were still clenched with rage when she answered Gabriel on the first ring, blurting out the whole confrontation as he listened quietly.

“How dare Lilly tell him about you? This is none of his business!”

“Maybe she thinks I’m competition,” he teased.

“Who said you aren’t?” she asked, words tumbling out faster than her inhibitions could stop them.

“What?”

“I just …” She cleared her throat nervously. “Forget it.”

His voice on the other end of the line sounded strangled. “Mia—”

“We’re almost out of time,” she interrupted. She shouldn’t have said it, shouldn’t have brought it up. “I’ll talk to you next week?”

“Mia,” he repeated. “You can’t just say something like that and pretend it never happened.”

“I don’t know what to say,” she admitted. She chewed absently on her thumbnail and watched another minute slip by on her bedside clock.

“Can you write it down? Send it to me?”

She closed her eyes, tipped her head back. Her words had been impulsive, but they hadn’t been untrue and maybe it was time they both stopped pretending otherwise. “Yeah, I can do that.”

Chapter Eleven

“You look tired.”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah, sorry.” Mia shot her father a quick smile, but she couldn’t deny that it was probably tired around the edges. It had been two days since she had talked to Gabriel, and she had barely slept at all. “Is it alright if I go ahead and head up to bed? I’m not feeling well.”

It would have been impossible to miss the concern, or the way his eyes traveled over her, looking for an explanation for her odd behavior lately. It caused a pang in her heart, the secrets she was keeping from him, but she knew he would only worry more if she told him now, before she had the words to explain it all.

“I don’t mind. Get some rest, I’ll make you pancakes in the morning.”

“You make the best pancakes.” She lingered over the hug she gave him, misty eyed with exhaustion and uncertainty about her future. He had always loved her, but she knew he wouldn’t understand what was keeping her up at night.

There were crumpled papers crunched under feet as she walked across her bedroom, failed drafts of a letter she couldn’t seem to get quite right. She’d spent every free minute writingand rewriting it, but she couldn’t find the words to express her complicated feelings.

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