Safe Haven - By Nicholas Sparks Page 0,114

spotted her profile at the window, saw her smiling as she turned away and knew she was thinking about the gray-haired man. Thinking about sex and the Bible says Those who gave themselves over to fornication and strange flesh are set forth for an example and suffering the vengeance of eternal fire.

He was an angel of the Lord. Erin had sinned and the Bible says She shall be tormented with fire and brimstone in the presence of holy angels.

In the Bible there was always fire because it purified and condemned, and he understood that. Fire was powerful, the weapon of angels. He finished the bottle of vodka and kicked it under the bushes. A car pulled up to the gasoline pumps and a man stepped out. He slid his credit card in and began to pump gas. The sign near the pump informed people it was illegal to smoke, because gasoline was flammable. Inside the store, there was lighter fluid for use with charcoal. He remembered the man in line ahead of him earlier, holding a can of it.

Fire.

Alex shifted and adjusted his hands on the wheel, trying to get comfortable. Joyce and her daughter were in the backseat and hadn’t stopped talking from the moment they’d gotten in the car.

The clock on the dashboard showed it was getting late. The kids were either in bed or soon would be, which sounded good right now. On the drive back, he’d had a bottle of water, but he was still thirsty and debated whether to stop again. He was sure that neither Joyce nor her daughter would mind, but he didn’t want to stop. He just wanted to get home.

As he drove, he felt his mind drifting. He thought about Josh and Kristen, about Katie, and he sifted through memories of Carly. He tried to imagine what Carly would say about Katie and whether Carly would have wanted him to give the letter to her. He remembered the day he’d seen Katie helping Kristen with her doll, and recalled how beautiful she had looked on the night she’d made him dinner. The knowledge that she was at his house waiting for him made him want to floor the accelerator.

On the other side of the highway, distant pinpricks of light appeared at the horizon, slowly separating and growing larger, forming headlamps of oncoming cars. They grew brighter until they flashed past. In the rearview mirror, red lights receded into the distance.

Heat lightning crackled to the south, making the sky blink like a slide show. Off to the right was a farmhouse, lights on downstairs. He passed a truck with Virginia plates and rolled his shoulders, trying to shake off the fatigue he felt. He passed the sign indicating the number of miles to Wilmington and sighed. He still had a ways to go.

Katie’s eyelids fluttered as she dreamed, her subconscious working overtime. Bits and pieces, fragments, trying to connect with each other.

The dream ended, and a few minutes later she tucked her knees up and shifted onto her side, almost waking. Her breathing began to slow again.

At ten o’clock the lot was nearly empty. It was just before closing time, and Kevin walked around to the front of the store, squinting at the light coming through the front door. He pushed the door open and heard a bell jingle. At the register was a man in an apron. Kevin vaguely recognized him, but couldn’t place him. He was wearing a white apron, the name ROGER stenciled on the right.

Kevin walked past the register, trying not to slur his words. “I ran out of gas up the road.”

“Gas cans are along the far wall,” Roger answered without looking up. When he finally did, he blinked. “You okay?”

“Just tired,” Kevin said from the aisle, trying not to draw attention to himself but knowing the man was watching. The Glock was in his waistband and all Roger had to do was mind his own business. At the far wall, Kevin saw three five-gallon plastic cans and reached for two of them. He brought them to the register and put money on the counter.

“I’ll pay after I fill ’em,” he said.

Outside, he pumped the gas into the can, watching the numbers roll past. He filled the second and went back inside. Roger was staring at him, hesitating to make change.

“That’s a lot of gas to carry.”

“Erin needs it.”

“Who’s Erin?”

Kevin blinked. “Can I buy the damn gas or not?”

“You sure you’re okay to drive?”

“I’ve been sick,” Kevin

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