Ana had said she was a murderer.
Jaxon had said nothing.
It was up to her to find the answers.
Libby’s eyes flew open as the door creaked and slowly inched forward. She held her breath, feeling a small tug of disappointment when Declan returned with a tray of food. She sat up, wincing at the pain in her side and the shards of glass that seemed to be breaking inside her head. It felt as if tiny pieces of her brain were slipping away and hitting the side of her skull.
The smell of food had her mouth watering, and spittle began to pool inside her cheeks as a tray of eggs, bacon, hash browns, and toast was set on the table beside her bed.
Libby kept her eyes averted, not wanting to see the dislike Declan made no attempt to hide. She willed him to walk away, but as her luck would have it, the tall man had other things on his mind.
“So, Libby, I’m curious. How much do you remember exactly? Can you at least share that with us? Can you tell me how far back your addled brain lets you wander?”
The insult stung, and she swallowed thickly, wanting only to eat in peace.
She paused for a moment and hoped if she answered his questions truthfully, Declan would leave her alone. Her eyes wandered toward the plate of food, set just out of reach, and she realized he was trying his own form of torture.
She sighed, having no desire to play this game.
“I remember riding on a bus. It was dark, and had rained recently. I could smell it in the air when I got off…the rain and the grass.” She closed her eyes, picturing the stormy night she’d arrived in Winterhaven.
“Someone had just cut their lawn and it lingered. It smelled nice…the grass.”
She paused, drinking in details that only now her mind was allowing her to see. The pain began to sharpen inside her skull, but she ignored it, clenching her teeth and willing the pictures to come.
“I had to get off in Winterhaven because I had no more money left. It was as far as I could go.”
“Where did you get money? Who gave it to you?” Declan’s hard words rained down on her, and she flinched at the heaviness of his anger. It was obvious he didn’t believe a word she was saying.
“I don’t know. I mean, I had none with me. I just woke up on the bus and the driver told me to get off.”
“Did anyone else get off with you?”
“No. At least I don’t think so.” Her mind whirled into a vortex of images, and she pressed her hands against her head as the ripples of pain became much more intense. A blurred image ran across her memory. A man? Had someone gotten off with her?
“There might have been someone, I just…I’m sorry. I remember the rain and being soaked, and the feeling of panic that came over me because I had no clue where I was, or why I was out in a storm in the dark.” She paused, whispering. “And the noise was so terrifying.”
“What noise?”
Libby blinked up at Declan and felt a small moment of triumph wash through her. She smiled. Her lips were tremulous and eyes shadowed. “There were heavy footsteps. They were following me. I remember running and the only warm place to go to was the diner.”
She paused, trying not to let the emotions overwhelm her.
“I was so scared it was them. All I wanted to do was disappear, and I wanted the pain to stop.”
A single, solitary tear escaped, slowly sliding down her cheek until it disappeared. “I must have fainted, I guess, because the next thing I remember is Pete. It was two full days later.” Her voice became hoarse with emotion as she continued. “I got away from the footsteps but the pain was still there.” Her voice dropped, “I don’t think it will ever go away. It’s inside of me to stay.”
Declan moved back, allowing her access to the food. Her violet eyes were shadowed, heavy with tears, and something slithered across his features and was gone just as quick. He stood there, staring down at her intently, and then turned abruptly, leaving her to the quiet.
She grabbed at the food, greedily stuffing the bacon into her mouth, closing her eyes to savor the taste and aroma as it awakened a ravenous hunger.
Not more than five minutes later she was licking the last of the grease from her fingers—she’d already licked every last bit from the plate—when Jaxon appeared suddenly in her room.
The entire area seemed to shrink and fall in upon itself. The man was huge, dangerous, and incredible to look at. He was fresh from the shower, his blue black hair waving thickly atop his closely cropped head. The dark beard that had graced the sharp, chiseled features was gone, and his clothes were much more casual.
And way too sexy.
That thought wove its way through her brain, and Libby felt the heat of a blush ride her cheeks once more. What was it about this man that affected her so?