Page 96 of Free to Run
I let my silence speak for itself.
“How much more do you have to drive tonight?” Jared’s change of subject tells me he’s done with his updates.
“Another few hours,” I say vaguely.
“Just promise me you won’t drive all night.”
Already drained from the events of today, I acquiesce easily. “I won’t.”
“Okay. We’ll talk more tomorrow. Safe travels, my friend.”
“Bye.” Hanging up the phone, I hold it to my chest for a second before I make my way back to the rental. I’m well on my way again before I give thought to what Jared said.
“Apparently, whatever you did at your house sent Keene into such shock, he called Caleb over.”
Good. It’s nice to know I’m not the only one who had to deal with a few shocks today.
Pushing the accelerator, I follow the signs for Richmond and look for a decent place to sleep.
Around 8:00 p.m., I check into the Little Swan Bed and Breakfast in Blackstone, Virginia, about sixty miles southwest of Richmond. If anyone is looking for Alison Freeman, this isn’t going to be where a computer search is going to find her. Since I used Jared’s company card to secure the reservation, it takes a few moments for the innkeeper to call and confirm it’s an acceptable charge. Moments later, I’m escorted to a room that’s rather reminiscent of the room my mother decorated for me when I was a little girl.
Done up in white wicker, with a thick blue bedspread and pale blueish-green walls, the space feels like the arms of my mother are wrapping around me and squeezing me tight when I most need it. After thanking the proprietress again for accommodating me, I strip down to nothing and crawl in between the sheets.
I can’t hold back any longer.
Tears scald my cheeks, and I use the pillow next to me to muffle my sobs.
The dam I’ve been holding back finally bursts.
Images from this morning play through my mind like a rapid-fire movie. Keene’s hands on another woman’s hips. His head bent. Her naked body pressed up against him, one hand wrapped around his tie. The clenching of her hand in his dark hair. Lips fused together.
I quickly roll to the side, reach for the trash pail, and vomit. Bile rises in my throat again, and another burst comes forward. Managing to get my nausea under control, I reach for the tin of ginger Altoids and pop one in my mouth, hoping it will settle my stomach. Clutching the pillow to my chest, my tears subside to a consistent trickle. The question that’s been burning in my heart all day pushes to the forefront of my mind.
Mama? Why am I so unlovable?
Daddy tried to sell me into slavery.
My new family essentially gave up on me.
And Keene? I rub my lower stomach, feeling the slight hardness that has nothing to do with my persistent workouts.
Why, Mama? Please, help me to understand?
With that thought, I fall asleep, knowing my heart will never rest easy again.
38
Keene
Caleb and I are standing in Amaryllis Events, quietly discussing the business side of this morning’s disaster. What Melody pulled in the office was more than enough to get her arrested for criminal stalking. Now, all I was focused on was finding Alison to explain.
No matter where I seem to look for her, I can’t catch up with her. Not knowing what was going on, she sought asylum from Jared within Watson, Rubenstein, and Dalton. It’s now late afternoon, and I have no idea where she is or what her mental state is. The only thing I know is that her cell and her car haven’t left New York.
She may be somewhere in the city hiding from me, but I’ll find her by tonight and have the discussion I’ve been avoiding. That I, someone trained to protect others, had a psychotic stalker who had threatened her, Cassidy, and me.
She has to understand. She has to. There’s no other option.
I’m pacing back and forth, running my hands through my hair, when the stained-glass door to Amaryllis Events opens. Phil, who had been standing off to the side talking quietly with Cassidy and Em about Alison’s whereabouts, asks, “Can I help you?”
