Page 124 of All In Good Time
He hadn’t told her.
Something was wrong and he hadn’t said a thing about it.
There was a chance that she was overthinking it, that nothing actually was wrong, but the look on his face lingered in her mind and convinced her she wasn’t crazy.
But what could she do?
Calling or showing up at his house wasn’t an option. Mark hated her.
Nothing. She should do nothing, because that was what Derek wanted. He made it clear before, and just because they were on much better terms did not change the fact that distance was put between them. She should forget it unless Derek specifically needed her help.
The phone on the wall started to ring, and Becca looked at it. She glanced at the clock: 9:27. Her mother was upstairs, enjoying a night off work.
Staring at the phone caused a sick feeling to pool in her stomach. Maybe it was her sixth sense, but she knew immediately that it was about Derek.
She pushed up from the table and pulled it from the receiver.
“Hello?”
Small, out-of-breath pants echoed over the line. “Becca.” Mal’s voice was watery, and when she stopped speaking, her words were drowned by sobs. Becca’s eyes widened, and nausea boiled in her.
“What’s wrong?”
“Mark…he… something really bad is going to happen. I don’t know what to do,” Mal said. Her words were barely coherent, even as she managed the last part. “It’s my fault.”
Becca let out a shaky breath as panic grew in her chest. “Where’s Derek?” It came out quiet, and she wondered if Mal even heard her at first. She clenched her eyes shut and bit her lip.
Mal let out a wailing sob in response, and Becca knew that was her answer. Her head fogged over and her stomach clenched. “Are you somewhere safe?” Her mouth was running on auto, her brain playing catch-up.
“I ran out. This was the closest phone booth.”
Becca nodded, and her hand gripped the coiled phone cord so hard it dug into her skin. She took a breath, and collected her thoughts as best she could. She needed to think. “Stay there, okay? Uh…um, call Sheriff Wade right now and tell him—”
“I can’t. If Mark finds out I did it again—” Another bout of weeping interrupted her sentence, but Becca already knew what it was. If Mark found out it would make things worse. That was what Derek was afraid of all this time too.
Becca could hear the paranoia and guilt in Mal’s words. And she could understand it like she was listening to the version of herself from three months ago.
“You have to listen to me, Mal. Call Sheriff Wade.Now.”
She hung up the line and dashed away from the phone to the front door. The keys to her mother’s car sat in a bowl next to the entrance, and she grabbed them. In the back of her mind, she heard her mother coming out of her room, but she didn’t have the time to explain or chat. She slid on her shoes and ran from the house as her mom called her name, confused.
Becca always tried to drive safely, but it didn’t matter anymore. She sped through stop signs and turned corners too fast all the way to Derek’s street. The entire way, a silent plea fell from her lips.
Please, please, please be okay.
The house lights were on when she jumped out of her car. A basic look at the house wouldn’t spark any interest to an average passerby. But then she heard a yelp.
She bolted up the sidewalk, onto the porch, and shoved her way into the house.
The world became a blur.
On the right, Jennifer sat on the living room couch, her head in her hands as she sobbed.
Down the hallway, loud banging and crashing came from inside Derek’s bedroom. A terrified sob escaped her throat, and Becca ignored all the sirens and alarms in her head that warned her away.
She heard the blows before she saw them, and when she did, she froze. Becca’s knees went weak, and she grew lightheaded at the sight in front of her.
Mark held Derek against the wall, and one by one, threw punches at his face.
