Page 44 of Cold Silence
“Julie, of all people, pointed out that I’ve pretty much failed to trust God since losing my dad.” She jerked her hand free and clamped it on the back of her neck. “After he died, the pain nearly broke me, and I wasn’t going to go through that again. So without even thinking about what God might want for me, I swore off dating.”
His mouth fell open. “What about us? We got together after that.”
“We were a mistake.” She blinked rapidly. “I didn’t mean for it to happen. Quite the opposite.”
A mistake.He was a mistake? Fresh pain ripped through him, and he took a step back.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “That’s how I felt at the time.”
“And now?” He forced the question from a dry throat.
“Now? I don’t know. I just don’t know.” She retrieved her Bible, hugged it to her chest like a shield, and without a backward glance, she walked out of the room in much the same way she’d once walked out of his life.
11
The hours inched closer to sunrise, and Travis shifted on the sofa. Gage would be up in an hour for watch duty, and Travis should be tired. But nothing would change the fact that he was in the same house as Claire, leaving him more anxious and distracted than he’d been in a long time. And then there was Robb and what Travis was going to do with the guy. All that weighed on him, and he couldn’t sleep even if he wanted to.
Still, he had to get rid of these jitters. Pacing always helped in the past. He swung his feet to the floor and saw the electronic clock on the mantle go out. He looked into the kitchen. Stove. Microwave. All the clocks were black. The house silent.
Like a tomb.
He glanced at the window over the front door. Streetlights were on.
Someone had cut the power
Claire’s abductor.
A muffled thump—maybe a window closing or footfalls—sounded from Claire’s room.
Travis raced to her door. He heard whisper-soft footsteps on the other side of her door. Could be Claire checking on the power outage, but he wouldn’t risk taking the time to even wake Gage. Mere seconds could prevent a loss of life.
Weapon drawn, he whipped open her door. Moonlight from a skylight bathed over the room, revealing Claire in bed, a man standing near her. One gloved hand held a cloth and hovered near her mouth. A pistol in his other hand was aimed at her head. He shot a look back at Travis.
“What the…?” The intruder dropped the rag and glared at Travis, keeping him locked in place. “Drop your gun or I’ll kill her.”
Was the voice Robb’s? Hard to tell. He was disguising it with a fake high tone. Travis scanned the dark. Tried to make out her assailant’s features, but a dark hoodie shadowed his face.
Claire bolted upright in bed, her eyes wide with fear. “What’s going on?”
“Relax,” Travis said. “I’m here and won’t let anything bad happen to you.”
She scrambled back against her headboard and clutched her arms around her knees.
His feet fairly throbbed with the need to take action and protect her. But he couldn’t hold onto his weapon. No way he would risk her life like that. He slowly laid it on the floor.
“Kick it over here,” the guy demanded.
Travis complied. “You don’t want to shoot anyone.”
He must have agreed as he backed toward the wide-open window.
He’d hefted one leg over the sill. Looked away. A brief moment but long enough.
Travis lunged, grabbing the creep’s shoulders and jerking him back inside. He wrestled the man to the ground and caught a glimpse of Claire easing out of bed. “Safe room now, Claire!”
With a roar, the man shot up. Headbutted Travis. Slammed his back into the door. Air gushed from his lungs.
“Gage!” he shouted and held on with one hand, trying to knock the gun free with the other.
