Revealing Annie - Freya Barker Page 0,12

I can already see it in his face when he approaches.

“He’s still considered critical and they’re waiting for some test results to come back. The cardiologist doesn’t want to take any chances, but she says she passed your number on to the ICU. You’ll be able to call a little later and they’ll contact you if there’s anything to report.”

I almost automatically slip my hand in his when he reaches for me and don’t object when he pulls me to my feet. I can’t sit here forever.

I’m lucky it’s the weekend and I’m not expected at the bakery until Monday. Plenty of time to catch up on my sleep, after I take Blossom for a walk.

He keeps hold of my hand as he leads me outside and helps me into his truck. We’re halfway to my place, stopped at a traffic light, when I turn to him.

“You never really answered my question.”

He glances over. “What question was that?” Just then the light turns green and he focuses on the road.

I’m not sure why I’m pushing, but I really want to know.

“Why did you come back to the hospital? You just got off a shift, right? Why not go home?”

A muscle ticks along his jaw, as he seems to consider his answer for a moment.

“Honestly? I have no good answer for that, but I know had I gone home without checking on you first, I wouldn’t have been able to sleep.”

I study his profile, a little surprised at his candor. I’ve learned a few things about Sumo this week; there is so much more depth to him than his easy charm and good looks would suggest. Who sits on a concrete floor for an hour or so, four consecutive days, reading from a fantasy book just to win the trust of a traumatized dog? Other than me, that is.

My guess is perhaps it’s easier for me to recognize his mask, because I hide behind one too. Oh, I tell myself I’m living a more honest life now than I did before, which is only true up to a point. Hiding behind a drastic change of appearance and a purchased identity is still hiding, even though my current life suits me much better.

“Where is your car?” he asks, pulling up in front of my trailer.

With concern about Edward at the forefront of my mind, I’d all but forgotten about the incident last night.

“Had to have it towed last night,” I answer, rubbing at my arms when a shiver runs through me from lack of sleep and the morning chill, as I open the door.

“It broke down?”

He turns off the engine and looks at me.

“Kind of,” I waffle, wondering just for a moment whether I should share. “Actually, someone messed with it.”

Immediately his eyes narrow and I can feel the air go electric.

“Whatta you mean…messed with it?”

Well, shit. In for a penny, in for a pound, but I’m going to need some reinforcement before I get into last night’s events.

“Look, why don’t you come in? I’m happy to explain but I desperately need a coffee.”

Before I finish my offer, he’s already getting out of the truck. I climb down and fish my keys from my bag as he walks around to my side. His body stays close behind me as I head up the path to my front door.

“Nice,” he mumbles, stepping inside. Suddenly my trailer, which always seemed roomy to me, feels a whole lot smaller.

“Coffee?”

I drop my bag on the small kitchen table and turn to grab a couple of mugs from the cupboard.

“Sure.”

“Have a seat,” I invite him without turning around.

I fill the Keurig with water and fish a couple of pods from the tin on the counter.

“Messed with it?” he repeats, running out of patience as I slide the first mug in the coffeemaker and hit the button.

I turn to face him, grabbing onto the edge of the counter behind my back.

“When I left the studio after my yoga class last night, my car wouldn’t start. I’d just popped the hood when this biker guy walked up. He had a look and said someone had cut some engine wires.”

His eyes, normally a warm brown, narrow and harden.

“Cut?”

I shrug. “That’s what it looked like. Anyway, the guy is apparently a mechanic and was gonna tow it up to his shop and Heidi, my yoga instructor,” I explain, “drove me home. She said they’d had some vandalism recently. Probably just a bunch of kids.” The coffee stops gurgling and I turn