Page 30 of Rescued By Midnight

A sniffle. The rustling of blankets. “Fine.”

Opening her door, I step inside. I’m ready to slay dragons, offer tea, bring her snacks.

But when I see her hunched under her blankets, the only thing I can possibly do is go to her and hug her.

I sit on the edge of the bed closest to the lump she makes under the comforter. I can’t hold her when I’m sitting, so with a quiet sigh, I ease down to lie next to her and wrap my arm around her. “Hey, Wonderland.”

“Hey.” She remains under her comforter.

“You have to be getting pretty warm under there,” I say.

“I’m fine.”

Doubtful. “How about you come out of there and talk about it?”

“No, thanks.”

I want to make her come out and talk. I could, easily. But that isn’t our dynamic. I pushed too far already by commanding her to let me in.

Still, I have to ask, “Who were you talking to?”

“Brayden.”

He’s a dead man. He made her cry, he took her from us, he isolated her. And then the loser fucking lost her.

To my surprise, Alice elaborates. “He—he got my friend pregnant when I was gone. On purpose. They were”—her voice breaks—”they were trying for a baby.”

He’s a dead man twice over. What kind of monster would do that? Someone who never even loved his wife. And how could he—how could anyone—know Alice, and not love her?

When I hear Landon come home, I quickly get up. My heart protests, but it has to be done. This isn’t my role. “I’ll send Landon in.”

He brought Alice here. She’s his problem. Not mine.

12

ALICE - NOW

I still can’t believe Cody came in here like that. He hugged me. And telling him about what Brayden has done made me feel better, for some reason.

I’m still embarrassed by the whole thing. Humiliated, really, that Brayden would have slept with Jericha while I was missing.

But I’m going to move on and get past it, because they’re the ones who should be embarrassed. I did nothing wrong.

I remember back to what Landon said about running. It used to be my refuge. Maybe…maybe today is the day to try it.

First, I get undressed and put on underwear and a sports bra. Then the running pants. I clip off the tags, my eyes widening at the realization of just how much money Landon must have spent at Navarre on Sunday.

Next, the athletic socks, and then the shoes. I tried them on in the store, marveling at the cloud-soft feeling they give my feet. I’m weightless in these. I could run for miles and miles, faster and faster. In these shoes, I could outrun any kidnapper. I could outrun Brayden’s recriminations. I could even outrun my past.

No, that’s impossible. As much as I want a fresh start and a clean slate, life doesn’t happen like that. I’m still married to Brayden. I’m still confused, still afraid.

I take the shoes off and throw them at the floor by the foot of my bed. I can’t do this. Maybe another day, but not today.

I’m fighting my way out of my sports bra when my phone rings. The number isn’t in my contacts list. I hesitate before curiosity wins out. With my arm still stuck halfway between the bra straps, I lean over to awkwardly slide a finger over the screen to answer the call, quickly putting the phone on speaker. “Hello?”

“Alice. It’s me.”

Jericha. She sounds like she’s been crying.