Unspeakable (Deadly Secrets Book 4) by Elisabeth Naughton

Author:Elisabeth Naughton [Naughton, Elisabeth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-11-19T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Harper’s heart felt as if it had lurched into her throat. She stared into the darkness and waited, willing Rusty to come running around the corner toward her, praying for any sign or sound that told her he was okay.

Please, please, please, please, please . . .

Memories of the day her father had been shot flooded her memory, tightening her throat. The blood. The way he’d been lying in a pool of blood like an animal. She swallowed hard, not wanting to go through that again. Praying for history not to be repeating itself.

Come on, come on, come on . . .

The girl groaned at Harper’s back. A shuffling sounded, and she heard a male voice say, “Hey, what’s going on back here?”

Her entire body vibrated with the need to go back for Rusty, but she couldn’t leave the girl. She had to get her to safety first. If she let something happen to her now, if Rusty found out . . .

Harper swallowed hard and turned toward Megan, lying on the floor like a sack of potatoes. The door to the tunnel snapped shut at her back. She quickly moved to Megan’s side, where a man with a beard and a leather vest was eyeing her warily as if he wasn’t sure if she was going to throw up or pass out.

Harper grasped the girl by the arms and pulled her to her feet. Sliding an arm around her waist, she said to the man, “Sorry. She had a little too much to drink, I’m afraid.”

The man’s gaze narrowed. “I don’t remember seeing either of you in here before—”

“Just on our way out.” She tugged Megan’s arm over her shoulder and helped the girl through the bar and out onto the street.

Fresh air hit her, filling her lungs. Streetlights shone down around them, illuminating the wet pavement, but she didn’t slow her pace, didn’t give Megan a chance to rest. She hauled the girl down another block to her car, braced her against the side while she dug her keys from the duffel on her back, then yanked the back door open and pushed her in.

Her nerves hummed as she shut the door and glanced back the way they’d come, toward the bar with its flashing neon sign. “Come on, McClane,” she whispered.

Long minutes passed with no sign of him. Her anxiety shot higher. She tugged the duffel free and tossed it in the trunk, then came back, crossed her arms over her chest, and paced the width of the sidewalk as she waited.

He was strong. He was tough. He could handle two thugs, right? He’d taken down the two in the tunnel the other night, right?

“Come on, come on, come on . . .”

When another few minutes passed with no sign of him, she stopped and glanced in the back window. The girl was dead asleep on the back seat of her car. Oblivious to everything going on around her.

She knew she shouldn’t leave the girl, but she couldn’t take it anymore.

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