by Wendy Davy
“That’s a shame. I mean…about the part where you don’t talk to God. I wouldn’t know what to do without Him. He’s been a great comfort to me, especially lately.”
Chase raised his brows, but didn’t comment; instead he knocked on the kitchen door. “Luanne?”
“Is that you, Chase?” Luanne replied. “Come on back.”
“You know Luanne?” Sierra followed Chase through the kitchen, surprised again by this stranger.
“I’ve been in the area a few weeks. I come and go on occasion, and I’ve had the opportunity to speak with her a time or two.”
“You come and go? So you’re a drifter?”
“Something like that. How about you?”
“I usually tend to stay in one place.” Having lived in Seattle her entire life, with exception to the last few weeks, Sierra considered herself anything but a drifter. She’d never even ventured out of the country.
Chase sidestepped around a counter where a volunteer buttered toasted bread. “I meant how long have you known Luanne?”
“Oh.” Sierra had become accustomed to giving little information, and she cautiously replied. “For a while.”
If Chase noticed her evasive answer, he didn’t show it. He scooted past an older woman stirring a pot of steaming soup. “With both of us coming by the center, I suppose it was a matter of time before we ran into each other.”
Chase’s casual reference to their unorthodox meeting sent Sierra’s heart racing all over again. He’d crashed into her with the force of a Mack truck. “I’d call it more of a head-on-collision.”
“I’m just glad I got a hold of you before that SUV did.”
Sierra’s skin heated as she recalled the feel of his strong arms folded around her—something she wasn’t likely to forget anytime soon. “Me too.” She took a steadying breath before following him around rows of shelves. They passed a variety of vegetable cans ranging from green beans to stewed tomatoes before finding Luanne.
She turned and dusted work-worn hands. Her silvery-blue irises lit up as she looked at Chase. “I see you’ve met Sierra?”
He nodded. “We…bumped into each other a few moments ago.”
“Well, it’s good to see you’re still around. I was about to send out a posse.”
“It’s only been two days,” Chase gave a lopsided grin. “No need to hunt me down. I can take care of myself.”
Sierra bit her lower lip as she sneaked covert glances his way. Something about his demeanor supported his claim. In spite of his ragged outward appearance, he held an inner confidence that couldn’t be denied. Not just anyone would’ve risked their life for another, and as she carefully watched Chase, more questions arose as to why he did.
Luanne shook her head, planting hands on ample hips. “Two days is too long,” she chastised. “You need nourishment every day.”
“Don’t worry about me.” He glanced at Sierra. “She’s probably hungrier than I am. Look at her. A stiff breeze could carry her away.”
Suddenly self-conscious, heat rose to Sierra’s cheeks. Her waist and hips had shrunk a few sizes. She used to go to the gym. She used to eat several small healthy meals a day, but her new life allowed no such luxuries. Sometimes, she only ate one full meal in twenty-four hours.
Luanne’s arched brows rose, disappearing beneath red, spiky bangs. “You’re right. She’s too skinny. Chase, hand over the pastry box and make sure this girl gets some food. I hear the soup’s real good today.”
The leftover macaroni and cheese in Sierra’s refrigerator held no appeal, and her mouth watered. Hot soup, in any flavor, sounded delicious. But, Luanne had enough souls to look after without worrying about her. “I’m OK. I don’t need—”
“God gives each of us a mission in life.” Luanne fingered her short hair, eyes rounding into a vulnerable state. “Mine happens to be feeding hungry people. You wouldn’t want me to fail at my life’s work, would you?”
“Well…” Sierra hesitated.
“Stay and eat.” Chase urged her. “I could use the company. Besides, you’d get soaked if you leave now.”
Sierra looked past Luanne, out the kitchen window. Drizzling rain had turned solid, pelting the sidewalk and overflowing gutters. With Kevin a constant threat, she feared walking to the apartment in the dark, and the rain only made matters worse. Lord, will I ever feel safe again?
Sierra returned her gaze to Luanne’s hopeful eyes. “I guess I could hang around a few minutes.”
Luanne nodded in approval. “Enjoy the food, and I hope to see you tomorrow with another box of goodies.”
Sierra didn’t know what each day would bring, so she answered with a non-committal smile. She left the kitchen and took the last place in line, sensing Chase not far behind.
“I’m glad you decided to stay.” His words came out in a low timbre, just over her shoulder.
Sierra had felt alone for so long, the words sent a subtle warmth through her, but she cautioned herself to remain on guard. “Why does it matter to you?”
“Are you always this…friendly?”
Sierra realized how she must’ve sounded. She didn’t usually return kindness with hostility and guilt nudged her. She sent an apologetic glance his way. “Don’t take it personal.”
Chase picked up two plastic trays as they inched forward in line. “What are you afraid of? Or, should I say whom?”
“I’m afraid of a lot of things. The longer I live, the longer the list gets.”
“You’re avoiding my question.” His steady gaze held hers hostage.
Sierra’s guilt fled and she bristled. “Why should I tell you, a stranger?”
He handed over a tray. “What could it hurt? Maybe I could help.”
“There’s nothing you can do.”
“Don’t be too sure.” His words held a quiet self-assurance.
Sierra studied his tall, broad-shouldered physique. She had no doubt Chase could stand up to Kevin, but why would he? “It doesn’t matter anyway. As I said, you don’t even know me.”
“Is it that unreasonable for a guy to want to help a beautiful woman in distress?”
Beautiful? A volunteer ladled soup into a bowl and handed it to Sierra. She nearly spilled it. She hadn’t felt beautiful since Kevin convinced her she was ordinary and unattractive. She’d long ago recognized his verbal abuse and had braced herself against it, but his words had left scars and caused doubts to run rampant.
A loud grumble down the line roused her, and she grabbed a piece of bread and a cup of iced-tea. After thanking the volunteers, she found an empty table. Settling onto a bench seat, she said a quick blessing and then sampled the soup. The warm, salty broth and silky noodles soothed her rattled nerves.
Chase swung a leg over the seat opposite her and sat, half facing her, half facing the crowd. “I wanted to get a pastry, but they’re gone already. It’s too bad. I was looking forward to having one.”
Thankful Chase had changed the subject, Sierra relaxed and shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. You can always stop by Allie’s Bakery. Everything is warm and fresh in the morning.” As soon as the words slipped out, she wished she could retrieve them. What if Chase didn’t have the money? She scrambled for a resolution that would absolve both her insensitive blunder and her curt behavior. “It’ll be my treat. It’s the least I can do. You saved my life.”
“In that case. How can I refuse?” Chase smiled and shifted his bowl close. “This smells good. Lately, it’s been a luxury to get a hot meal.”
Sierra’s curiosity sparked. “Where do you go when you’re ‘drifting around’?”
He took a bite of crusty bread and dusted crumbs from his fingers. “Here and there.”
“Have you considered staying here at the Hope Center? There are lockers to secure your things and plenty of cots to sleep on.”
Chase looked around and shook his head. “It doesn’t suit my needs. Besides, I have a place to stay.”
“A place? I hope you’re not sleeping in a card
board box in some alley.”
He quirked a brow. “Why would it matter to you? We don’t even know each other.”
Sierra recognized the words she’d spoken moments ago. “Fair enough. Well, wherever it is, I hope you’re safe.”
“It’s as safe as anywhere else.” His gaze roamed, stopping briefly at each person in the room.
“Looking for someone?” Sierra took in her surroundings. Faces blurred together—young and old, men and women, and a handful of children. Her heart twisted. A small girl, no older than five, sucked her thumb while clutching a ragged doll. The child’s mother met Sierra’s eyes, mirroring the desperation thrumming inside her.
Chase finished his soup and drank his tea in a few long swallows. After setting down the cup he swiped his coat sleeve across his lips. “I’m looking around because I like to know who’s in the room with me.”
“I do too.”
He crossed his arms and leaned forward. “Yeah? Did you notice the guy staring at you from the far corner?”
Sierra’s lungs froze. Her heart skipped and then beat in a wild frenzy. Forcing herself to remain seated, she gripped the table’s edge. “Where?” She looked from person to person. A man wearing a blue-and-white ball cap met her gaze. His eye color was different. His shoulders were too thin. His face was long and narrow. It wasn’t Kevin. Sierra dismissed the blatant, blue-eyed leer and sagged in relief.
Chase’s features hardened. His piercing gaze delved into hers as if reading every thought, fear and emotion. “Tell me what he did, Sierra, and I’ll make sure it never happens again.”
2
Sierra Malone looked ready to bolt. Blood drained, leaving her skin ghostly white and emphasizing wide, haunted eyes. She’d barely eaten, but shoved aside her bowl as if it pained her to look at it. Slim fingers smoothed her neck where fading bruises marred her skin. The sight left Chase aching for revenge.
“I-I have an early morning. I’d better get going.” Her voice sounded thin and weary.
Chase didn’t want her to go. “Are you sure you’re OK? You look as if you’ve just spotted the grim reaper.”
“I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine.”
She appeared delicate and extremely vulnerable.
Chase gathered their trays and stood. “I have a hard time doing nothing when a woman is in need.”
“Yeah? I have a hard time looking past someone in need, too. Will you consider asking Luanne to set you up with a cot? Even though it’s spring, the nights are still chilly.”
“I can take care of myself. Besides we’re not talking about me.” He dumped the trash into a wastebasket, set aside the trays and tucked his hands into deep coat pockets.
Sierra stood, straightened and rubbed the nape of her neck, revealing another, darker bruise beneath her ear.
“What’s it been? Two, three weeks?” Chase shook his head, estimating the amount of damage done. “I’d guess you barely escaped alive. Is there a chance this guy could be in the area?”
She adjusted her shoulder-length hair forward, as if trying to cover the evidence. “Look, I appreciate you saving my life, but you’re not responsible for me.”
He ground his teeth, feeling as if they would crumble. If she only knew why he was there, she’d understand why he felt responsible. He wanted to tell her. But, he couldn’t. Not yet. “At least let me walk you home.”
Suspicion surfaced in her eyes. “No thanks. I’ll be all right.”
Her answer didn’t matter. He fully intended to see her home safely, whether or not she was aware of his presence. He shrugged and conceded, “Well, I’m glad we met.”
“I am too.” She gave a quick, hesitant smile and walked away, stopping to speak with Luanne.
Chase maneuvered around the crowded tables and slipped outside. The temperature had dropped, and the low-lying rain clouds had exhausted their reservoirs. He strolled along and stopped at the curb, waiting for Sierra to emerge. When she stepped outside, he resumed his slow pace. As her steady footsteps approached, he smiled. “Change your mind about me walking you home?”
She fell into step beside him. “No. We’re just heading in the same direction.”
“I see.” Chase dipped a hand into his pockets and fiddled with a few loose coins.
As if she heard the sound, Sierra glanced his way and her brows furrowed. “Luanne can help you…if you’d let her.”
Struck by her compassion, Chase studied her tense features. How could this woman be concerned about him when she had so much to worry about herself? He sneaked a peek at her bruised neck, and had to push down the rising anger. He had zero tolerance for abuse, especially when directed toward women. “To be honest, right now I’m more concerned about you.”
She lifted her chin and straightened her shoulders as if gathering courage. “Don’t be. I’m pretty sure the man who did this”—she indicated her bruised neck—”won’t find me here.”
“You don’t sound convinced.” Chase didn’t want to press too hard, but he couldn’t allow this opportunity to pass by. “Who is it you’re running from?”
“I don’t really want to talk about this right now.”
“Fair enough.” But, he wasn’t giving up that easily, not by a long shot.
Sierra stopped adjacent to the bakery. Lights illuminated each window in the second floor apartment, as usual. “Looks like you walked me home after all.”
Chase slowed beside her. “So, I’ll see you in the morning then?”
Her eyes widened. “You will?”
Conscious of her unease, he took a backward step and shrugged. “I was just going to stop by the bakery for breakfast. Unless…”
Sierra’s breath rushed out, and her shoulders relaxed. “Oh, yes. I almost forgot about the pastry. Of course, I’ll see you then.”
Chase brought forth his most charming smile and strode away until darkness claimed him and then he turned, making sure Sierra got inside safely. As soon as she closed the door, Chase slipped into the four-story building directly across from her apartment. One-Fifty-Seven Chapel Street had served his purposes well over the past few weeks.
Bypassing the rickety elevator, he took the steps two at a time. He headed to apartment 239, slipped the key into the lock and entered. A musty odor permeated the dank room, probably from years of grimy buildup on the shag carpet. Chase hadn’t seen that particular shade of orange since he’d been in elementary school.
His stale surroundings didn’t bother him. The location was perfect. He shoved aside the window’s thin curtain, unlocked the pane and eased it up. Cool air rushed in, but he didn’t mind. He wanted to hear Sierra if she screamed.
Chase shrugged out of his long, dark overcoat and tossed it aside, relieved to be free of the heavy material. Slipping his cell phone out, he sank into a pea-green winged chair. Dust particles flew from his dirty clothes and he swiped them away. When he returned home, he would burn the old-ragged sweatpants. If he never encountered another pair again, he’d be satisfied.
Propping steel-toed shoes on the windowsill, he dialed his brother’s number. The phone rang once before Jake answered with clipped words. “It’s about time. You like to keep people in suspense. Don’t you?”
“You’ve never had much patience. Have you?”
“You know I don’t. What’s going on?”
“I met her in person.” Chase braced himself for Jake’s rebuttal.
Silence and then a deep, exhaling breath came over the airwaves. “What happened to lying low? Did you tell her who you are?”
“Not yet.”
“But you are going to, right?”
“She’ll find out eventually. For now, my cover’s secure.” He let out a humorless chuckle. “When Eason shows up, he won’t recognize me—not the way I look. I’m even getting used to this scratchy beard.” Chase fingered his whiskers absently.
“I understand your motives, but I’m not convinced this is the best way.”
“I’ve exhausted
all other options.” Chase shifted into a more comfortable position, but still kept watch on Sierra’s apartment. “She’s my best hope.”
“I wonder what your bait would think of this idea.”
“Think of it this way, she’s getting protection she wouldn’t otherwise have.” Sierra was alone, running from a man determined to destroy her. Chase’s stomach twisted and unease weighed him down. He knew what Kevin Eason could do. He would not allow it to happen again.
“I hope this plan of yours works.” Jake’s voice cut through his thoughts.
“I’ll make it work.” Chase imagined his brother rubbing his hair as he often did when troubled. “Don’t worry. I’m going to stop this guy.”
Jake cleared his throat. “If Amber had only told us how bad things had gotten we could have—”
“Regardless, I should’ve recognized the signs early on.” Chase jerked from the chair and paced the room. He slipped a hand in his pocket automatically reaching for the agate worry stone he and Amber had taken turns carrying around, but came up empty, painfully reminding him the rock was still missing.
“When are you going to stop blaming yourself?”
“I don’t know. Maybe when Eason is behind bars. Maybe…never.”
“You should call Mom,” Jake added after a long pause.
“I will when I have something to tell her.” He peered through the window. Each light in Sierra’s apartment remained on. “Did I tell you she never turns out her lights?”
“Eason attacked her at night.”
“I know. He must’ve stolen a key from her somehow, since there was no sign of forced entry.”
“There was no sign of anything. No evidence.”
“You don’t have to remind me. We both know his methods. He won’t stop hunting her, but that will work to our advantage. Sierra might not be glad she filed for a restraining order, but at least something good will end up coming out of it.”
“So it’s Sierra now, not Miss Malone?”
Chase had never thought of Sierra as Miss Malone, but Jake didn’t need to know that. “I told you I met her in person.” He leaned forward and scratched his itchy, scruffy beard, wishing he could shave it off. Maybe he hadn’t grown used to the extra facial hair after all. “If you had a chance to meet her, you’d understand. She’s…likeable.”