Page 27 of The Captive
She clamped her teeth over her lower lip.The bitterness in his voice was so thick she felt it in the air.God, thethings he must have experienced in his life, awful, tragic things that had turned him into a man who believed nothing good existed—in the world, or in him.
But…
But was he right?Was she grabbing at anything here in her need to excuse Deacon’s actions because he was the father of her child?Theirchild.Maybe this was the time to tell him.The only concrete way to find out if her confidence in the man was sound.
If he knew, would he let her go?Or would he prove her instincts wrong and continue to keep her here against her will?
Releasing a breath, Lana raised her head to meet his gaze.She had to tell him.Now.Shehadto.
“Deacon,” she started.“I—”
“You’re wrong about me,” he interrupted.“I’m not good.There is nothing, absolutely nothing, decent about me.You don’t want or need someone like me in your life, and once this is all over, I’ll be gone.We’ll never see each other again.”
Disappointment floated into her chest.Her mouth closed.The temptation to tell him about the baby still remained strong, but she suddenly knew he wasn’t ready to hear it.Something had happened to this man.Maybe it was the death of his parents, or maybe some other traumatic event had skewed his entire outlook.Whatever it was, it had broken him beyond repair.Hearing he was going to be a father would not fix it.Not now anyway.
“So don’t worry, very soon I’ll be out of your life forever,” he finished roughly.
Without waiting for an answer or an objection, he left the room.Lana drew in a breath, slightly stunned by the passionate way he’d recited that dismal speech.He truly believed he was a bad person.And heck, maybe he wasright.Maybe her sixth sensewassteering her in the wrong direction.
But he’d been wrong about one thing.He would never be out of her life forever.A part of him would always remain in her life—their child.
You have to tell him.
She sighed.Yes, she knew Deacon needed to hear the truth, even if the truth changed nothing between them.
Soon, she vowed.She would tell him soon.
* * *
Sarah had never liked the Atlantic Ocean.It was too cold, too unpredictable.As she walked the shoreline in front of Vivienne’s beach house, she looked at the choppy waves and shivered.Despite the fact that the ship had gone down miles and miles from here, she could almost imagine the ghosts from theTitaniclurking beneath those waves, sobbing with grief and agony.
She felt like sobbing, too, right about now.A month.An entire damned month had passed since her daughter had been taken prisoner, and she was going crazy with worry.Hank had been calling with weekly updates, but he never had anything useful to say, save for the fact that he was “working on it.”
Working on what?She wanted her daughter home, safe and sound.And she wanted itnow.As far as the professors at the university knew, Lana was visiting her brother in Montana, and the faculty hadn’t questioned it, which meant the media had no idea Lana was even missing.That was another reason Hank wanted to keep the police out of it, as filing an official report meant the press would immediately get wind of the situation.That had been fine by her—two weeks ago.Now she just wanted to call every media outlet out there in hopes that plastering Lana’s faceall over the world would provide them with a lead, but Hank had convinced her to stay silent.For now.
If something wasn’t done, though—and soon—Sarah had already decided to take matters into her own hands.
As if on cue, her cell phone began to ring.She fumbled in the pocket of the long cardigan sweater she’d thrown on before coming outside.Whipping the phone to her ear, she said, “Have you found her?”
Hank’s voice was strained.“Not yet, but I think we’ve figured out where she’s being held.”
Hope soared through her.“Where?”she demanded.
“In the mountains, north of Sacramento.Remember those clues I told you about, the words she spoke during the calls?Well, my bodyguard Gage figured out where they must be keeping her.”
“Did you inform the FBI?”
Silence greeted her ears.
“Damn it, Hank!You didn’t call them, did you?”
He sounded guarded as he said, “There are things at work here that you don’t understand, darling.I’m doing my best.”
Right, because hisbesthad always served them well in the past.Sarah almost wished her husband were standing in front of her, so she could strangle him.She’d heard from her son Dylan that one of Hank’s mistresses had attacked him in Maple Cove, but even now—or maybe especially now—she couldn’t muster up any concern or sympathy.Hank Kelley deserved what he got.
“I’m going to call Jim,” she said decisively, referring to their youngest son, who was currently on an overseas assignment with his Special Forces unit.
“No.”Hank’s tone brooked no argument.“Leave the boy out of this.I’ve already sent someone to get Lana.”
