Her Scream in the Silence (Carly Moore #2) - Denise Grover Swank Page 0,132
out, gently wrapped me up in his arms, then tucked me back into his bed when I got sleepy from the exertion.
The next time I woke it was late evening. He gave me some chicken broth and then helped me into the bathroom. He gave me some privacy, but returned to sit on the toilet while I showered in case I needed help.
After that, I was awake more often, and the next day I could get out of bed on my own. I’d moved out to the sofa, and we were watching an action movie that Marco had picked from his satellite dish lineup. I was leaning into his arm, dozing off and on, when his body stiffened. He jumped up, grabbing his crutch, and hobbled to a window overlooking the front yard.
I could hear a car engine coming closer.
Marco picked up a shotgun lying on his kitchen table and headed for the front door.
“Marco?”
He ignored me, opening the front door and lifting his gun as a greeting to the approaching vehicle.
“Marco.”
I started to get up, but he shot me a glance as he lowered the weapon. “It’s Lula and Greta.”
I sank back into the cushions, pulling the blanket on my lap higher to ward off the chill from outside.
“Is it okay if we see Carly?” I heard Lula ask.
“She’s still recoverin’,” Marco said, “but I know she’d be happy to see you both.”
A few seconds later, they both bustled inside and hurried over to me. Greta was carrying a vase of flowers and Lula had a handful of magazines.
Relief flooded my veins. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you both.”
“We’ve been dyin’ to see you,” Lula said. “But Marco said you weren’t up to visitors yet.”
“I suggested that you wait until tomorrow,” he grumbled, shutting the door and laying the gun on the table. “She still needs her rest.”
“I’m glad you came,” I said, even though I felt a little self-conscious. Lula’s face was glowing with an inner joy that made me slightly jealous, and while Greta’s face was still bruised, she’d covered it up with makeup and had on a cute shirt and jeans. I was wearing one of Marco’s long-sleeved T-shirts and a pair of sagging jogger pants. I hadn’t brushed my hair since my shower the night before, and I knew I had a serious case of bed head from lying against Marco and the sofa back.
“We brought you some things as a thank you,” Greta said, holding out the vase of mixed red, yellow, and white flowers, “even though it’s pretty lame in comparison to what you did for us.”
“Thank you,” I said with a soft smile. “I love flowers, but you didn’t have to bring me anything but yourselves.”
They set their gifts on the coffee table, and Greta took a seat to my right while Lula got settled in the armchair. Marco offered them drinks, but they declined. He hung back in the kitchen, giving us space but ready to step in if I needed help.
Lula stared at me for a few seconds, clearly wanting to say something but hesitant to do so.
“It’s okay, Lula,” I said. “Feel free to say what’s on your mind.”
She glanced down at her lap before looking up to meet my eyes. “No one in this town thought to look for me except you. Max was countin’ on that.” She grimaced, then shook her head. “The no one lookin’ part. Not the part about you lookin’.”
“I gathered that,” I said, the scab ripped from the wound of his betrayal. “What happened after I dropped you off at home? How’d you end up with Max?”
“I went home and started a fire before bed. I was getting ready for work the next morning when I heard a truck comin’ down the lane. No one comes to see me, so I knew it was probably one of Carson Purdy’s guys wantin’ their money. The thing is, I did something stupid, Carly. When I got to Chattanooga, I stood by the river, looking down at the water, and it was just so beautiful. I thought about taking my baby there someday, and suddenly I couldn’t stand the thought of going through with the deal. I threw the drugs in the water. I knew I couldn’t come back after what I done, but then I heard about Carson Purdy, and I figured maybe it would be okay to come home. I didn’t think Pete would hurt me because of the