Secrets from the Past by Jane M. Choate

Author:Jane M. Choate
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2021-01-10T15:14:23+00:00

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Liam drove home, his thoughts centered on Paige and what she had shared with him about her fiancé’s death. Not for the first time, he found himself in awe of her strength and her faith.

He might never accept or understand her belief in the Lord’s love, but he respected it and even wished he could find it for himself. His thoughts slid to the time when he’d been a believer. He’d been a regular Bible-carrying churchgoer, not just on Sunday but during the week, as well. He’d even taught a youth class, sharing his testimony and praising God at any opportunity. Now he didn’t even own a Bible, much less read from it.

He rolled his shoulders, trying to relieve the tension that had gathered there. Twenty-four-hour shifts, even forty-eight-hour and longer ones, hadn’t fazed Liam while he’d been on deployment. Action made the difference. Now, as he and Paige had gone over the same information again and again, he was beyond exhausted.

Rest was as important as any weapon in a soldier’s arsenal. Over the last weeks, he’d skimped on sleep and was now paying for it. He was ready for a bite to eat and then sleep.

But he wasn’t ready for what he found there.

Crude writings defacing the front door and sprayed on the windows should have prepared him for the ruin inside. But they didn’t. How could anything have prepared him for the total destruction of his home?

It was the senselessness of the act that caused him to see red. Why?

Nails digging into his palms, he walked through the lower level of the house. Pictures of him and Jonah had been torn from their frames and ripped to pieces. Shattered glass littered the floor. Green and purple paint had been splashed over cabinets and counters, the resulting mix somehow obscene.

Plants had been overturned. Whatever lowlife had done this had mixed water with the spilled potting soil, turning it to mud. That, in turn, had been smeared over the walls and furniture, along with streaks of red that resembled blood. Even Jonah’s artwork had not escaped the destruction, with filthy language defacing the pictures.

Liam picked up a picture and looked at what had been a drawing of Jonah and himself. He recalled the day Jonah had brought it home from preschool, so proud that he’d drawn the two of them.

His innocent pleasure in his creation had filled Liam with a rush of happiness and love for his son. There was no way the picture could be salvaged.

What was he to say to his son? How did he explain the unexplainable?

Liam clenched his fists as rage poured through him. Whoever had done this would pay. The silently made promise echoed through his mind.

They’d pay dearly.

Though Liam rarely cried, tears pricked his eyes now. He didn’t wipe them away.

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