Page 52 of Almost Dead (The Cahills 2)

“Let go of me!”

“You really want me to?”

“Yes!”

She could feel the tears she’d fought all day well in her eyes, and she angrily dashed them away. Jack had the audacity to kiss her cheek and fold her into his arms. “Oh, Cissy,” he sighed, his breath ruffling her hair. “Why do you try to be so damned tough? Why won’t you let anyone get close, anyone love you?” She let out a little sob and hated herself for it. “Why don’t you think you deserve it?”

Her fingers were curled over the lapels of his jacket, as if she were clinging onto him for dear life. Horrified, she released her grip. She looked up at him and shook her head. “You’ve got it all wrong, Jack. I know I deserve love. And I want it. From a husband who is faithful to me. That’s the kind of love I want. The forever kind. I know we got married on the fly, in a rinky-dink ceremony at a chapel that made you wonder if the ceremony was even legal, but I meant those words I said. I meant every word of those vows, and I thought—hoped—you did too.”

“I did. I do.”

“Well, you have a helluva way of showing it!” she said, pulling away from him. The day was enough of an emotional roller coaster as it was; she didn’t need to go through any more heart-wrenching scenes with her estranged husband.

“Cissy.”

“No, Jack,” she said emphatically. “Not now. Not today.”

“Then for God’s sake, let’s declare a truce. Just for today. You don’t accuse me of screwing everything that moves, and I won’t try to convince you otherwise. What do you say?”

Cissy drew a breath. “Oh…I don’t care.”

“Oh, you do, Cissy. You care plenty. You just don’t want to.”

“Don’t try to psychoanalyze me.”

“Then don’t try to find ways to hate me.”

“I’m not trying to—”

“You’ve been building a case against me for over a month, and, just for the record, I did not sleep with Larissa. I came damned close, yeah, I admit it. But I didn’t, and you know why?” he demanded. “Because I’m in love with you.”

After that he strode away, leaving her trembling, fighting tears and wishing that she dared, even for a moment, to believe him.

Why not, Ciss? Why not give him another chance?

Trying to get a grip on herself, she walked to her baby’s room, half-expecting Jack to return. But he didn’t, and she felt disappointed as well as relieved.

Why won’t you let anyone get close, anyone love you?

His words echoed through her brain. Is that what he really thought?

She stepped close to the wooden crib and found her son sleeping peacefully, his eyes closed to show off impossibly long eyelashes resting upon his rosy little cheeks.

Just looking at him, some of her sadness dissipated. She curled her fingers over the top railing and smiled down at her son. Whispering a soft “I love you,” she finally walked out of the room, partially closing the door behind her. She was almost at the staircase when she heard something and turned, looking down the long corridor with the doors, all ajar, opening from it.

Her heart stuttered.

Had she imagined the sound?

You’re just distraught. Expecting the worst.

She retraced her footsteps to check on Beej, whom she knew was fine; she’d been in his room seconds earlier. Of course he was still sleeping, his room as she’d left it.

How odd.

Unconvinced, she walked farther along the corridor and pushed open the door to the guest room. It was empty, the bed untouched. Across the hall was the exercise room and her little office, and inside, as Tanya had said, she found Coco inside the crate, a bowl of water next to her scruffy white body. The little dog thumped her tail and looked up expectantly through the mesh of the kennel’s door. “You’ll be fine,” Cissy said and decided the terrier had been the source of the noise.

She turned into the bathroom and

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