Billionaire Protector - Alexa Hart Page 0,62

over her shoulder.

What had she said....?

“You promise. That’s funny. You’re all the fucking same.”

“You’re exactly like every other man.”

I’d been assuming that most of her... issues... stemmed from foster care. And I was still pretty sure that some of them did.

But that wasn’t Anne’s biggest pain.

Someone had hurt her. A man. Had hurt her.

It was so obvious to me now, that I almost felt stupid.

Why hadn’t I wondered, even once, who Murphy’s father was? She’d never mentioned him, and I was just thrilled to be near her. I couldn’t have cared less who that guy was, as he obviously wasn’t what you’d call an “involved parent”.

But for her to never say one single word about him.

I’d assumed he was just one more person who did her wrong. I’d never stopped to consider just how much wrong he might have done.

How badly had he hurt Anne? And where was he now?

Why had Anne chosen to live in a town so small it almost didn’t exist? And in fact, according to a lot of maps, it didn’t exist.

She’d settled somewhere invisible.

Somewhere she would never be found, because no one would ever know to look.

She was hiding. Running, possibly.

And someone had given her good reason to.

Was that someone still looking for her right now?

Hunting her?

I threw my covers back and took off running out of my room. Down the hall, around the main hall, and straight to Dad’s office.

Light still on. My father wasn’t sleeping at all tonight either, from the looks of it.

I knocked and threw the door open before he could even respond.

“Penn?” Intense alarm covered his face, and his hands had frozen over his keyboard mid-type.

“I think she’s hiding from someone. Someone who hurt her – like physically hurt her. I think that’s why she’s in a place like Corydon to begin with. And I think it might be Murphy’s father.” Everything came out in a rush.

Dad was nodding slowly, contemplating my words. “That would make sense, though you must be aware that you could also be completely misreading the situation.”

“I don’t think I am, Dad.” I shook my head, my anxiety growing. “There would be records right? If someone had... like... domestic abuse. Doesn’t that go on record somewhere?”

Dad was sober. “Penn, the majority of domestic abuse cases are never reported. The ones that do get filed are often retracted before they can come to anything. But it’s possible the initial complaint... or complaints... could be on file... That’s something the private investigator can look into for you.”

“Call him now. Please.”

“The world is sleeping right now, Penn.”

“Please.”

Dad reached for his desk phone.

12

Valerie

“We’re free, little man. Free!” I swung Murphy around and something that was half-laugh, half-sob escaped from my throat.

My lawyer – court appointed – had just called to inform me that any suspicion of wrongdoing on my part had officially been dropped by the authorities.

Randall’s record, the few times I’d dared to report his abuse, along with my account of the events on the day he died... and all the days leading up to that – everything had worked together to prove that if nothing else, Randall Fisher was a mean motherfucker with a temper and a heavy hand.

My lawyer had even been able to get ahold of Emily, who concurred that I had attempted to leave three years ago, before finding out I was pregnant.

Randall had quite the rap sheet of incidents from before he’d ever met me. And a few of those records indicated that I wasn’t the first girlfriend Randall Fisher had laid a hand on.

I was just the lucky orphan one who’d had no one to turn to and had gotten knocked up by the monster to boot.

The fact that I was still covered in bruises – all in different stages of healing – when the police first brought me in for questioning, had also spoken volumes.

And words that I knew would be emblazoned on my brain forever, spoken by Murphy, had provided the most moving evidence of all.

“Daddy hit Mommy. Daddy hit Mommy a wot.”

Forensics had suggested that my footprints were left first on the makeshift path I’d taken to jump over the gorge. And forensics also proved that Randall had been running along the same path shortly after, as well as the fact that he never made it to the other side.

Maybe there was no one hundred percent certain way for the law to know that I hadn’t shoved Randall off of that cliff, but my lawyer said the courts were about