Desperate Measures. Christy Barritt

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Desperate Measures - Christy Barritt


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lip and the cut on her forehead.

      Could he really go on with this new chapter of his life just as he’d planned? He didn’t know.

      * * *

      Samantha’s thoughts raced a mile a minute as she zipped her suitcase. Her jaw and her head ached. Even her eyes hurt as tears threatened to push out.

      She had to get a grip. She had to pick up Connor and keep moving. And she didn’t have much time.

      Samantha didn’t know where she’d go, how she’d get there or what she’d do once she arrived. All she knew was that she had to leave.

      She gave one last glance at the apartment. At one time, she’d thought the small space was perfect. She’d wondered if they might find a home here in Yorktown. And maybe one day Kylie and Nate could be her friends.

      She should have known better. A stable life—feeling normal and without fear—none of those things were her reality right now. The notion of a safe, happy life was only a farce.

      Stepping back onto the landing, Samantha closed the door behind her. She heard the lock click, the sound cementing her plans to run.

      Here I go...again. Lord, watch over me. Show me where to go. Pour Your wisdom over me.

      Hauling her suitcases behind her, she thumped down the stairs. Her heart raced, pounding in her ears. Each pulse seemed to echo the urgency of the situation.

      Go. Move. Run.

      All she wanted was to find a place to stay. Rest. Be.

      At the landing by the back door, she looked back. Just as she expected, Nate was standing there, waiting for her. She’d known he wouldn’t accept her flimsy explanation. His friend was gone, though. John was gone.

      That was probably good. The man’s eyes had seemed too intense, too curious...too compassionate. She feared her reaction to him. Whenever he’d come into the restaurant and Samantha had spotted him, her heart had raced.

      The man was attractive. Really attractive. He was tall with dark, neat hair. His body looked sculpted and firm. He seemed to be a loyal friend to Nate and Kylie. He wasn’t the loud or pushy type. Instead, he seemed steady, patient and strong.

      “Samantha, are you sure you have to go?” Nate asked. Concern stained his eyes, pulling her back to reality.

      She nodded, her throat dry. She crept closer and closer to the door, unable to stay in one place. “I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t bring trouble your way.”

      “Trouble?”

      She licked her lips, panic fluttering through her. “I’ve said too much already.”

      What was she thinking? She should have just slipped away quietly. Too bad there wasn’t a training course for how to effectively go on the run and disappear off everyone’s radar. The problem was that Nate and Kylie had a toddler, and a baby on the way. She’d never intended to put them in harm’s path.

      “Maybe Kylie and I can help....”

      “No one can help, but thank you.” She stared at him another moment, wishing she could offer more of an explanation. “Thank you for everything.”

      He finally lowered his chin, his lips pulled into a tight line. “Be safe.”

      She nodded again. “Thanks.”

      She stepped outside into the warm, dark summer night. She really had liked it here. Living above the little restaurant. Enjoying the waterfront, the shops, the history.

      The area had seemed so safe, so quaint and friendly.

      Her desire to keep her son safe trumped her wish for a stable life, though.

      She ambled across the parking lot, pulling her suitcase and heaving Connor’s backpack up higher on her shoulder. Was she really ready to start another new life? Exhaustion pulled at her at the thought.

      As she rounded the corner, a figure in the shadows caught her eyes.

      Oh, no! He was back. The man from the grocery store.

      Samantha wasn’t sure she had enough fight left in her to survive another confrontation.

       TWO

      Samantha broke into a run, not bothering to look behind her. She had to move quickly. Had to think fast. Had to be smart.

      “Samantha, it’s me.”

      The voice sounded familiar. She slowed her steps but only for a minute. After all, Billy’s voice had been familiar. Familiar didn’t mean safe.

      “It’s John, Nate’s friend. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

      She slowed again. Hesitated. Finally, she turned. Her entire body was tense, ready to flee if necessary.

      John raised his hands and stepped toward her. Maybe he hadn’t been in the shadows, as she’d first thought. His truck door was open, as if he’d just climbed out. Maybe he’d spotted her leaving before he’d pulled out of the parking lot.

      “I saw you leaving,” John confirmed. “I wasn’t trying to hide or frighten you.”

      “What do you want?” She didn’t care if he was Nate’s friend. She didn’t know who she could trust right now.

      He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on. I didn’t even plan on doing this. But I won’t be able to live with myself if I don’t say something. I have a feeling there’s really not a family emergency.”

      “It depends on how you define family emergency.” Her family—she and Connor—were definitely in the middle of an emergency situation. The thugs hired by Billy had found her. And if they caught her, they’d kill her. They wouldn’t bat an eyelash before taking her life. She wouldn’t be so lucky to get away again the second time around.

      He pulled out a piece of paper. “If you’re looking for a place to get away—and a job—here’s an idea for you. It’s not much, but you’d have a place to stay. A safe place.”

      She glanced down at the card, tempted by the offer. She didn’t have any other plans. No ideas even. “Smuggler’s Cove? I’ve heard of the island before. One of my friends in high school lived there for a while.”

      “It’s one of the safest places I’ve ever been. Everyone knows everybody. The biggest crime is littering. I’m fixing up some cabins there. I could use a hand painting, restoring some furniture, making the structures livable.”

      She stared at him. His words sounded sincere. But she couldn’t shake her general distrust of people. “Why do you want to help me?” After all, didn’t everybody want something? Nothing was free or sacred. Not even marriage, apparently. She’d learned that the hard way.

      John shifted. A new heaviness seemed to press down on his shoulders. “I’ve been in some tough spots before. I get what that’s like, and I hate to see people struggle.”

      She held her head up higher, struck by the sincerity of his words. But she couldn’t let herself soften. Being weak would get her killed. “Thanks for your kindness, but I’ve got to go.”

      He looked away and shoved a hand in his pocket. “Right. Family emergency.”

      She nodded, unsure why she felt the urge to pour everything out to him. What would it be like to let someone else help carry her burden? It was an idea she couldn’t let herself consider because the crushing reality was that she was all alone. Now and forever. “That’s right. Thanks again.”

      Before he could say anything else, she climbed into her car and took off to pick up Connor.

      * * *

      The next morning, John stared at the beachfront cabins in front


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