You Betrayed Me (The Cahills #3) - Lisa Jackson Page 0,105
her ears straining for any other unlikely sound, carefully tugged on her boots.
Suddenly, bright illumination washed across the window, throwing the bedroom into relief.
Headlights!
No—oh, no!
Inching to the side of the window, Willow watched in horror as twin swaths of moving illumination played upon the trunks of the trees guarding the lane and sparkled against the blanket of snow covering the yard.
James was returning, his Explorer roaring toward the house!
Oh, crap!
“No, no, no,” she said under her breath and hastily zipped up her boots. She scrambled out of the room, more concerned about being caught by James than by whatever imagined threat she thought she’d heard inside the house.
She didn’t have much time, probably not enough. Her heart in her throat, she thundered down the stairs as fast as she could. On the final step, she turned, slipped, and twisted her ankle as she fell. “Shit!” she hissed. She got to her feet. Pain shot up her leg. She sucked in her breath. No matter what, she couldn’t be caught. Not here!
Scraaape!
The damned tree branch.
Had to be.
Willow shoved back the horrid feeling that still lingered. The sensation that someone was watching her. Following her.
Get over it! It’s just your nerves. For God’s sake! Move! James is coming. And he’ll have his stupid dog.
Oh. Jesus, oh, Jesus, oh, Jesus!
Frantic, she hobbled through the kitchen and out the back door, turning the lock swiftly. Pain burned through her leg as she worked her way down the long, dark porch and down a step into the woodshed. No windows. Just a dirt floor, dry, dusty air, and cobwebs in total darkness.
Hurry, hurry!
Lurching forward, her ankle throbbing, she ran a hand along the rough wood siding, her gaze fixed on the door at the far end of the shed. She’d left it ajar and caught a glimpse of white snow through the crack.
Good.
If she could just get outside—
Bam!
Her shin crashed into something right in the middle of her path.
Pain shimmied up her leg.
She cried out, then bit back the scream.
What the fu—?
The chopping block! A stump James used to split wood. An axe imbedded in the top.
She caught her breath. Heard the ever-nearing roar of a big engine as James’s Explorer got closer.
Tears sprang to her eyes.
She couldn’t be found out.
Not now. It would ruin everything!
Limping and flailing her hands in front of her in the darkness to prevent another injury, she half ran to the door and threw it open.
Cold air slapped her in the face.
She ignored it and ran, slipping and sliding, aching and mentally cursing as she followed the path through the orchard, where bare branches swatted her face, the same path she’d broken earlier.
Bright beams bore down on the buildings.
Willow flattened herself against the far side of an equipment shed. Heart thudding, she silently prayed she wouldn’t get caught.
The shed was less than fifty feet from the garage!
Panicked, she searched for another escape route, her eyes scouring the surroundings.
Oh, God, was there movement in the hedge of fir trees?
A shadow out of place beyond the pump house?
Her heart skidded.
It’s nothing. Just your imagination.
But the snow-laden branches appeared to shift a bit, as if someone were passing by in the night.
All the spit dried in her mouth.
Stop it! If you have to worry, worry about James.
All the while the Explorer, tires crunching over the snow, reached the end of the lane, wheels turning, the headlights intense as they splashed over the face of the farmhouse and garage.
Freaked out of her mind, Willow silently screamed. Her leg ached, and she realized she’d probably left a trail of blood in the snow . . . well, too bad. She just had to get out of here.
Before James—
The door of the detached garage rumbled open, light spilling from inside.
She didn’t dare breathe.
He drove his SUV inside, then cut the engine.
She inched to the corner of the shed and carefully sneaked a peek.
She heard the Explorer’s door open, then close with a thud.
Her heart was clamoring, and she bit her lip just as he stepped out of the garage. Her heart clutched at the sight of him. So tall, so handsome. He strode across the yard to the front steps.
His dog too was out of the Ford and streaking to the front yard, where he cut wild circles in the snow while the garage door rolled downward, destroying the light as it settled with a clunk.
Willow let out her breath. In a few minutes, she would be able to slink away from here in the darkness