With Every Breath (Slow Burn #4) - Maya Banks Page 0,87

jail tomorrow.”

Eliza’s brow furrowed in genuine confusion and it took every bit of her will to control her growing agitation. “Why on earth would this gain the attention of networks like CNN and Fox News?”

“He asked for one. You didn’t know? It’s all everyone is talking about.”

Eliza smiled, or tried, but even she knew it was a pathetic attempt. “No one here speaks to me, or rather some do, but they don’t exactly strike up a conversation. They tell me exactly what they think about me and then go on their way. So no, I didn’t know.”

Pity once again flashed in the older man’s eyes, this time more pronounced, and it made Eliza inwardly flinch. She wasn’t sure which was worse. The obvious hatred directed at her or pity. Neither was welcome or pleasant.

“Not right the way they’re treating you,” he muttered. Then he paused a moment and cocked his head, studying her until she was almost twitching with discomfort. “If you didn’t know about the press conference, then why are you here? Why would you come back to a place where you’re treated like garbage and people make no secret of their hatred? Word is you’re still in love with him and you’re here for him, but I don’t buy that. It’s been a long time. If you were that in love with him and willing to take him back after what he did, then you would have never turned him in and faced him in a courtroom and named him for what he was.”

Eliza clenched her jaw and inhaled rapidly, vowing to fight the sudden sting of tears that threatened to well.

“I didn’t believe it,” she said softly, telling a half truth. “I couldn’t believe they could set him free after what he did. I had to know, to see for myself.”

“Going to give you some advice, girl. Get out of town and get as far away as possible and do it now while you have the chance. He’s got something up his sleeve. Most people in his position where everyone knows he’s guilty as hell and got off because of some ridiculous loophole and a dumb-as-a-brick cop not doing his job worth a damn would get out quietly. They’d leave quietly and they wouldn’t want to garner attention or notice. They’d move somewhere they could blend so no one would ever know who he was and what he did. But him? The arrogant bastard had his lawyer call up every network they could think of to set up a press conference on the lawn of the courthouse where he was convicted and he’s going straight to that press conference the minute he’s released.”

Jesus. This was not good news. Not good at all. It was a fucking nightmare with the potential to be more horrifying than anything he’d previously done.

“You need to go,” the man said gently. “People are starting to stare. They’re talking and they’re angry and just looking for someone to blame and to take their anger out on. But the biggest reason you need to leave right away is because that man will be looking for revenge and you are the only reason he spent the last ten years in prison. He’s had a lot of time to think on that and to dream about getting his revenge. You aren’t safe here. The people in this town hate you, blame you. Thomas Harrington hates you and blames you as well. It shames me to say this because I’ve lived here all my life and most of the people who live here are good people, but not many would be sorry to see you suffer. And just as many would celebrate if Harrington does get to you. So go now. Get out of here while you can and may God be with you.”

“Thank you,” Eliza said, barely able to get the words out. “Your kindness means more than you’ll ever know. I’ll never forget you or your kindness.”

“You can thank me by staying alive. Get out, girl. Do it now and do it fast and never look back. There’s nothing here for you but judgment, pain and misery. You deserve better than that.”

Impulsively, Eliza reached out and grabbed the wrinkled, work-worn hand, squeezing it, her fingers trembling with emotion. Then she withdrew her hand and turned away, not trusting herself to say anything further. She left the crowd, ignoring the looks, the comments, and she kept walking, pulling her jacket around her, a barrier, not to