by Dani Pettrey
She smirked, drawing his attention back to her supple pink lips. “Don’t get used to it.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it. So . . .” He leaned forward with a wink. “What am I right about?”
She glanced around the room. “This lodge is wonderful, and stopping was a really good idea.”
An hour later she set her empty mug on the room service tray and turned to face him. “Those were the best milk and cookies I’ve ever had.”
He laughed.
“What?”
“You’ve got a milk mustache.”
“So do you.” She swiped at her lip. “Only I wasn’t going to tell you about it.”
“Brat,” he said playfully and instantly regretted it. Even if he’d said it completely in jest, she’d been called enough names today. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have . . .”
She frowned. “What?” Then it hit her. “I know you were just playing, Reef.” She strode back to her seat. “Don’t worry about it.”
Reef took a deep breath and spoke what was pressing on his heart. “Look, I don’t know what happened between you and that woman, or with that William guy, but I do know what she said, what she called you—she was wrong.”
She linked her arms tight against her chest, nearly hugging herself. “What makes you so sure?”
He leaned forward, bracing his hand on the edge of her chair. “Because I know you, and none of those words describe you.”
She nodded but remained silent.
He scooted closer. “Sometimes talking about it helps.”
She bit her lip. “And sometimes it makes it much worse.”
Kirra rolled over in bed, her heart aching so hard she struggled to draw a decent breath.
Tell him.
I can’t.
Tell him, child.
But, Father, I—
God cut off the thought, filling her with the overwhelming need to share her burden and to share it with the most unlikely of people—Reef McKenna.
She pulled to her feet and yanked a sweatshirt over her pajama top. Sliding her feet into her slippers, she headed across the hall in her flannel duck bottoms.
Are you sure, Lord? she prayed, her hand poised to knock.
Yes, child.
Her hand landed on the door as she prayed he wouldn’t answer.
The door swung open, and before Reef could utter a word or she lost her nerve, she blurted out, “Can I come in?”
“Of course.” He stepped inside, allowing her passage, and flipped the lights on.
She balled her hands into fists inside her sweatshirt sleeves—the fleece lining nubby from being so well worn.
He gestured for her to sit as he slipped on a shirt, and she sank onto the love seat in front of the fire.
He sat down beside her, angled to face her so their knees touched.
“While I was in vet school, Tracey was my roommate and best friend.”
“And William?” he asked, his voice tender—achingly so.
“William was finishing the last year of his PhD program and was a TA in the Biology department for both environmental health and advanced anatomy. Tracey and I had him for anatomy, and we were both interested in him—though we did our best to keep things civil. Fast-forward to a few months before our graduation and he chose Tracey.”
“I’m sorry.”
She pulled her knees to her chest. “Not as sorry as I was. I thought I’d lost the sun, as young and blinded as I was.”
“So he and Tracey started dating?”
“Yeah. It was difficult, but it was what it was. I tried to be supportive.” She spoke faster, needing to get to it, get past it and let the cards fall where they would with Reef—praying he’d . . . What? Wrap her in his strong arms? Now she was being foolish and naive all over again.
“Kir?” He jiggled her knee.
She took a deep breath, expelled it, and continued on. “A couple weeks later, Tracey had to head home for the night last minute. Something with her family. We were supposed to go to a party with William and some friends.” And Meg. Meg was supposed to be visiting from Anchorage that weekend, but she’d called that afternoon, said something else had come up—and now Kirra knew that something was a weekend getaway with Reef.
“And you still went?”
“When M— the girl who was supposed to go to the party with me also bailed at the last minute, I called and told William I wasn’t going to go.”
“But . . .”
She clutched her hands around her legs. “But William showed up at my door, begging me to go, saying we needed to talk, and . . .” She looked down. “I foolishly went.” It was her greatest regret.
She got to her feet, needing to move . . . to keep moving so it couldn’t catch her, couldn’t strangle her the way it did in her dreams. “William told me he’d made a huge mistake. He didn’t love Tracey. He loved me. He said he was going to tell her as soon as she got back, and I believed him. We talked at the party over drinks, and he started to get real friendly, so I said I needed to get back to my apartment. As much as I cared about William, I wasn’t going to pursue those feelings until he broke things off with Tracey.”
Her stride increased, her voice pitchy to her own ears. “He acted like that was totally cool and offered to walk me home.” She glanced at Reef, at his soulful eyes brimming with compassion.
“You don’t have to tell me,” he said at her pause.
“I know, but I need to.” She’d carried it for too long.
He gave her time, not pressing, just waiting while she gathered her courage.
“We cut through the park on the way back to my apartment, and that’s when he started up again.”
“With the advances?”
She nodded. “Only this time, he was more forceful.” She couldn’t look at Reef. She was too scared. She just continued, needing to get it all out. “He forced me behind a grove of trees and ra . . . ra . . . raped me. I screamed and cried, but he had pressed some sort of rag into my mouth.”
Reef was at her side, pulling her into his arms, comforting her as the tears fell.
She swiped at her tears with the back of her hand but didn’t pull from Reef’s embrace. This was what she’d longed for. Someone to understand. Someone to comfort her on an intimate level. Intimate? After William, she never thought she’d use that word again, and now with Reef . . .
Focus. Finish. Get it all out. “Afterward,” she sniffed, swiping at her tears with the back of her hand, “I was a basket case—I could hardly stand—but he acted like everything was normal. As if it’d been consensual. He even tried to kiss me good-night at the door.”
Reef cupped her face in his hand, his finger grazing her skin. “Did you report him?”
Tears rolled off her cheeks, cascading to her sweatshirt. “It was the middle of the night. Tracey was gone until morning, and I was terrified. I locked my door and showered his stench off of me. I hid under my covers, praying for Tracey to come back. I figured she could take me to the campus police in the morning and toss William to the curb.”
His jaw slackened, his heart breaking in his eyes. “She didn’t believe you.”
Kirra shook her head, her tears salty as they tumbled past her lips.
“William was waiting for her outside our apartment when she came back the next morning. He told her I threw myself at him at the party, that we’d both drank a lot and he’d made a stupid mistake.”
Reef’s brows arched. “He confessed?”
“No. He said letting me seduce him was a stupid mistake.”
“He told Tracey you tried to seduce him?”
“When I tried to tell her the truth, she called me a liar and a lot worse. I couldn’t believe it. I was blindsided. She was my best friend. If she didn’t believe me . . .” She rubbed her arms.
“Who would?” he said, finishing her thought.
“Right.”
He caressed her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “So you never went to the police?”
She looked down, the
pain stabbing deeper still. “I went home.”
“Surely your parents believed you and encouraged you to go to the police.”
She stepped from his hold and nausea swirled inside. “My mom couldn’t handle it. She listened and then asked if I wanted a slice of cake.”
“What?”
She shrugged. “That’s Mom’s way of dealing with ugly stuff in life.”
“Eating cake?”
“Ignoring it.”
“And your dad?”
“He said it sounded complicated. I’d gone to the party with William. We’d been drinking . . . If I made a fuss about it, reputations could be ruined. So I needed to be really clear on what happened before I ruined reputations.”
“Meaning William’s?” Reef asked in outrage.
“Actually, I think he meant mine, or at least I hope that’s what he meant.”
“But still . . .”
“He was worried if I took it to court, I wouldn’t win. People saw us drinking and being friendly at the party; they saw us leaving together being pretty chummy . . . I knew it didn’t look good.”
“So what? That’s not what matters. You matter.”
“My dad said I’d have tarnished my reputation and maybe gained nothing from it.”
“Oh, Kirra. I’m so sorry.” A mix of indignation and heartache welled in his expression.
“Uncle Frank, on the other hand, offered to kill William.”
“And Meg?”
She offered a sad smile. “She felt horrible about it all because she was supposed to be with me that weekend and she’d bailed last minute.”
“If she’d been with you . . .”
“I would never have been alone with William.”
He paled. “Wait a minute . . . earlier you referenced the weekend Meg and I were in B.C. as that weekend.” He swallowed, pain etched across his face. “That wasn’t the weekend William . . . ?”
She nodded.
“Oh, honey. I’m so sorry.”
“You couldn’t have known.” Nor could Meg, but that didn’t ease the abandonment she felt at learning Meg was the one who’d initiated the getaway.
14
ON THE ROAD TO SEWARD, ALASKA
MARCH 13, 5:11 A.M.
Kirra felt acutely self-conscious on the ride to Seward. She’d shared the truth of her past with Reef. And amazingly, he’d responded with more kindness, support, and compassion than her own family, expressing anguish at learning he’d been in B.C. with Meg while she’d been raped.
She shifted, studying him, the bright moonlight shining in the driver’s side window. He was breathtakingly handsome, but there was so much more there.
She shifted, staring out the window at towering spruce trees standing like shadowed sentinels along the roadside. She knew it was a fool’s dream, but with all of her heart she hoped they’d find Meg in Seward and all of this would be some weird mix-up. But mix-ups didn’t involve being chased by men with guns. Meg and, most likely, she and Reef were in grave danger, and they only had four more days before Frank should reach Nome and time would be up.
Reef glanced over at her with a soft smile. “You doing okay?”
“Yeah. Just antsy to get there.”
“Me too.” He looked back at the road and then glanced back at her. “I wanted to thank you. . . .”
Her forehead pinched. “Thank me? For what?”
“For confiding in me. I’m honored.” He reached over and clasped her hand. “You’re very brave.”
“Me? Brave?” She laughed.
“You are.”
“Yeah, right. That’s why I was too much of a coward to confront William.” His name burned acid in her throat. “Too much of a coward to press charges against him.”
“You survived what he did to you. Something as traumatizing as rape could have destroyed you, but you didn’t allow it to.”
“Why do you say that?” In some ways that horrid event still dictated her life.
“Because look at you. You’re a successful vet. You run an amazing shelter. You are active in your church. You live your life.”
Guardedly.
He frowned. “You don’t agree, do you?”
She shrugged, not sure she was up to delving so deeply into the issue. The fact that she’d shared what happened with Reef still surprised her, but she was glad she had. She felt closer to him, more revealed. And somehow, for some reason, the burden felt easier, lighter to bear. Some of the darkness had eased.
“I think you’re a remarkable woman.”
Reef McKenna believed she was remarkable?
They pulled into Seward a little past noon. Despite the snow and ice, commercial fishermen were out fishing Chinook salmon, while a couple dozen protestors waved signs rebuking the commercial fishing industry and its devastating effects on animal life in the area. The protestors strode in a well-defined circle around the parking lot at the edge of the pier—forcing anyone coming or going from the docks to pass through them.
According to the ROW members they had talked with in the student union, the group’s trip, while officially spearheaded by ROW, had been sanctioned by the university at Professor Baxter’s request—even though it pulled students away from classes for an extended period of time. It seemed Professor Baxter had a significant amount of sway on campus—probably why William had buddied up to the man. He liked to be on the good side of those in power.
Kirra stepped from the car, her heart in her throat, praying they’d find some answers. She scanned the crowd, still hoping she’d see Meg waving one of the homemade signs, but her gut knew better.
They approached the mob and snagged the first person they reached—a young man dressed in a skater hat, sleek-fitting winter coat, and skinny jeans.
“Hey, man.” Reef lifted his chin in greeting. “We’re looking for Sam.”
“And you are . . . ?” He kept walking, and they moved to keep pace with him.
The wind blowing off the bay brought a blistering chill, stinging Kirra’s cheeks and causing her eyes to water. She tightened her scarf, yanking the burgundy cashmere material higher up on her neck, the soft fabric caressing the edge of her jaw much as Reef’s fingers had tenderly grazed her skin last night.
“We’re friends of Meg Weber’s,” Reef said.
“Sam’s over there.” He gestured to a well-built man. Easily six foot and muscular, but not in a gawky way. His dark wavy hair ruffled in the wind, his cheeks tinged rose from the salty ocean air.
“Thanks,” Reef said.
“Yup.”
They let the young man pass by and then weaved their way through the swirling crowd, cutting across the snow-covered gravel lot.
“Sam?” Kirra asked when they reached the man. He leaned against the Seward Marina sign, one boot braced against the pylon beneath, a clipboard in his hand.
He looked up, his irritated expression quickly softening into a smile. “Yes?”
“Hi. I’m Kirra Jacobs.” She extended a gloved hand and he shook it. “I believe my cousin Meg Weber is a friend of yours.”
His jaw tightened. “Was.”
“I’m sorry?”
“She was a friend of mine . . . right up until she took off in the middle of the night.”
“What?”
He set the clipboard aside. “She acted so gung-ho about the cause, all raring to go for the rally, and our first night here, she just up and disappears. Nearly set the whole rally back, because she had the petition with all the signatures we’d collected. Luckily”—he tapped the clipboard—“Belinda was able to find it among Meg’s stuff.”
“Meg’s stuff? She left her stuff behind?”
“Yeah, and if she thinks one of us is going to tote her junk back, she’s got another thing coming.”
Kirra swallowed and glanced back at Reef.
He rested a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
“Next time you talk to her, tell her she’s not welcome at ROW anymore.”
“That’s t
he problem.”
“What is?”
“We can’t find her.”
His eyes narrowed. “Didn’t she head back to campus?”
“Afraid not.”
“You sure?”
“We just came from there. No one’s seen her.”
He exhaled. “Who knows where she and Rain decided to frolic off to. I knew something wasn’t right about the guy, but Meg . . . She just ran after him like a lovesick puppy.” Jealousy saturated his words.
“So you’re saying Meg left with Rain?”
He grabbed his clipboard, tightening his grip, the attached pages flipping up with the wind. “They were both out in the front room of the bunkhouse talking when I went to bed. Next morning there was no sign of them.”
“Was there any sign of a struggle?” Reef asked.
“Struggle?” Sam pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why would there be a sign of a struggle?”
Kirra looked at Reef. How much should she say? Sam and—she gazed around at the rally team—the rest of these people were the last to see Meg before she disappeared. They needed whatever lead they could provide.
Reef nodded, silently supporting whatever approach she decided to take.
“We’re afraid Meg’s been abducted.”
“Abducted?” He laughed. “You can’t be serious.”
Kirra’s shoulders stiffened. “I’m afraid we are.”
Sam’s smile faded, and his gaze darted around the crowd before settling back on them. “Why on earth would you think something like that?” His voice was low, his fingers clamped tight on his clipboard.
Sam was edgy, shifting his weight from one leg to another and back again. Did he know something about Rain? She needed to press harder. “Let’s just say we know.”
His eyes narrowed. “You aren’t trying to imply that Rain had anything to do with her supposed disappearance, are you?”
“You said yourself you last saw them together and assumed they took off together.”
“Took off together, yes. Rain abducting her is a different matter entirely.”
“But he was the last person seen with her.”
“That doesn’t prove he abducted her.”
“It doesn’t prove he didn’t.”
Sam shook his head. “This is absurd.”