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Breaking Free

Page 69

by Teresa J. Reasor


  ****

  In the restaurant parking lot, Zoe pulled next to Marjorie’s car.

  “Are you sure you’ll be all right to drive, Brett?” she asked as she turned to look over her shoulder at her brother. He wasn’t supposed to be behind the wheel, for at least another five weeks, if then. Marjorie, sitting silently beside her, was in no shape to drive. Short of making another trip to pick up the car later, to keep it from being towed, Zoe didn’t know what else to do.

  “Yeah, I’ll be fine. There’s no sense in Marjorie worrying about her car and it’ll save time if we go ahead and pick it up right now.”

  “Be careful,” Zoe warned as he got out of the car. He waved her off, and with Marjorie’s keys in hand, walked to her vehicle.

  Sometime later as Zoe turned onto the street to Hawk’s house, Marjorie broke the lengthy silence. “I appreciate your helping me.” Even with the sunglasses obscuring part of her face, Zoe could see the bruises growing more pronounced by the hour. The woman looked exhausted.

  “You’re welcome.” Zoe sought something encouraging to add. “I know it doesn’t seem like it right now, but things will get better. Once you feel better physically you’ll be able to deal with the emotional things, too. Just take it moment to moment right now.”

  Marjorie nodded.

  Brett pulled up behind them in the driveway. He held up a hand to stop them at the porch and took the key Hawk had given her. “Let me go in first, Zoe.”

  He opened the front door and slipped inside to disarm the alarm. She paused there with Marjorie at the threshold and looked around the living room. It appeared the same but harbored an empty air, as though no one lived there. Brett made a motion with his hand, meaning stay here. He disappeared down the hall.

  He returned after only a moment. “Everything looks secure up here. I’ll check Hawk’s weight room under the sun room.”

  Zoe followed him through the kitchen. “I’ll fix us something to eat.” Perhaps food would distract Marjorie while they waited. She’d had nothing to eat all afternoon. Zoe’s stomach growled. Neither of them had. “Would you like to lie down until it’s ready?” she asked.

  Marjorie took off her sunglasses and tentatively touched the bruised area along her cheekbone. “Yeah, I think I would. I’m a little tired.” Her eyelid and the tissue around it was purple, the eye itself nearly swollen shut.

  Zoe suppressed the urge to flinch and put an arm around Marjorie’s waist. “I’ll get you some ice. It will help with the swelling.”

  Brett returned from the sunroom and Marjorie held a hand up to shield that side of her face from him.

  His gaze skimmed over her, then away, his mouth tightening. “All clear.”

  “Come on. I’ll show you to a room,” Zoe said.

  She got Marjorie settled on the bed in her old room and went to the kitchen to get some ice.

  Brett leaned against the counter and folded his arms across his chest. “You know, what we do--who we are, is about saving as many lives as we can. It has nothing to do with senseless violence against innocent people.”

  “I know.” Zoe plucked a quart sized plastic bag from a box in one of the cabinets and filled it with ice. She wrapped it in a lightweight dishtowel. “Derrick has had some issues since your unit came back from Iraq.”

  “Derrick had issues before we left for Iraq. If he tries to use what happened over there as an excuse--”

  Zoe glanced up as he trailed off.

  “Did you know he was abusive, Brett?” she asked.

  “I suspected something with his last girlfriend. I tried to talk him into some counseling. Then there was something--”His gaze shifted away from Zoe and he grew silent. A familiar look of concentration settled on his face as he grappled with a memory. “Something happened over there I was going to talk to Hawk about. It’ll come back to me.” He swore, a frustrated scowl marring his features.

  He straightened and reached for the makeshift icepack. “I’ll take this to Marjorie for you. She needs to know not all of us are like that.”

  It was going to take more than a few acts of kindness for Marjorie to regain what Derrick Armstrong had taken from her. But she’d have to start somewhere. “Take her some Ibuprofen too, it will take down some of the swelling.” He filled a glass of water, found the tablets and left the room.

  Zoe opened the freezer door and rummaged through for something to thaw in the microwave and fix. A package of chicken breasts lay on top of a bag of rice. She took both out and placed them on the counter.

  A puddle of water on the floor had her frowning. Had the line for the icemaker sprung a leak? Or had something tipped over and spilled as she opened the door? She closed the freezer door to peer closer. She caught a whiff of chlorine as the toe of a man’s shoe came into sight next to her own. Shock like an electric jolt flashed through her. She grabbed the package of chicken breasts from the counter and swung them. Derrick blocked the blow with his forearm and the package went flying.

  Zoe’s startled squeak cut off as he covered her mouth with a hand that easily obscured the lower half of her face. Something hard dug into her side and she glimpsed the grip of a gun he thrust into her. Her insides turned to liquid. She bent away from him bowing her back against the counter.

  The hot tub. He’d hidden in the hot tub. Had he been there all the time?

  His wet clothes pressed against hers. Her blouse and pants absorbed the clammy moisture and she shivered. He raised a gun that looked like a cannon and rested the barrel against her temple. His body pushed against hers, hard and unyielding, pinning her to the counter.

  “You know that little surprise I left for you in the living room a couple of weeks ago?”

  The flash-bang. It was Derrick. Zoe nodded tentatively.

  “That’s nothing compared to what I can do. Make one peep and I’ll snap your neck like a twig, you nosy bitch. I heard Marjorie’s voice. Where is she? ” Derrick Armstrong’s voice was barely a rumble of sound.

  Fear, icy cold raced through her, numbing her limbs and stealing their strength. If she told him, what would he do to Marjorie?

  His hand tightened against her face, mashing her lips hard against her teeth and squeezing her jaw until she thought he might break it. Zoe squeaked in pain and clawed at his fingers.

  “I could kill you, you know. And I’ll still find her.”

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