"You said I could." Jamie hadn't wanted to leave her mother alone with John, but he'd been in one of his nicer phases. And she'd needed to get a few more references for an English paper she was writing.
"Yes, well, unbeknownst to me, your mother had already left to get you."
He was a raving lunatic, his story so obviously unfounded. "She knew where I sat in the library. If she'd come, she would've found me."
"Her car broke down on the way."
Thinking back to that night a couple of weeks ago, Jamie remembered her mother and John picking her up when the library closed. They'd been in John's car.
She wasn't sure where this was leading, but she was suddenly scared. Too scared to run. Too scared to move when John took a step closer.
"It was raining that night," he said.
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His voice was still soft, but Jamie trembled anew when she heard the lilt of victory in his tone. He advanced another step.
She was confused now, doubting herself. And if she'd had anything to do with the illness that had finally taken her mother's life, she didn't care if John hit her. She didn't care if he killed her.
"Your mother was exposed to that rain when she had to walk the half mile to a phone, then wait there for me to come bail her out of her troubles again," John said. His hands were still in his pockets, but the muscles in his forearms were bunched.
His dark hair left menacing shadows on his forehead.
' "The next day, as you know, she came down with a cold that led quickly to the pneumonia that killed her."
Jamie stared at him. Horror made her sick, weak. Surely she couldn't be blamed for the rain! Or the run-down state of her mother's car.
"If you hadn't been at the library, forcing Sadie out in the first place, she'd never have been exposed to that rain at all."
"But…"
"Or if you'd found another way home, a friend maybe, like most teenagers do, rather than relying on your mother all the time, she wouldn't have been out in that rain."
"But…" Desperate to end this nightmare, to be certain she wasn't to blame for her beloved mother's death, Jamie meant to tell John that if he'd only kept her mother's car in better shape, Sadie wouldn't
HER SECRET, HIS CHILD
have had to worry about the rain. But she never got the chance.
"Or—" he took another step "—if you'd called sooner, before seven, when she left to pick you up, none of this would have happened."
He was right. Dammit, he was right. She'd been so caught up in her reading that she hadn't noticed the time. Her mother always got her from the library at 7:30; it was a standing arrangement. Jamie should have called earlier, saved her the trip.
John took another small step, pulling one hand slowly out of his pocket.
Jamie shrank back.
Shivering, Jamie clutched her stomach with both arms, her gaze darting frantically around her cheery kitchen, trying to connect with the present, to bring herself back. To hold on. But the memories just kept right on coming, right on hurting…
"You're lucky I'm willing to keep you, considering what you've done."
John's soft voice penetrated Jamie's numb mind. So filled with guilt was she that for a second or two she almost believed him.
She saw his hand coming toward her, braced herself for a blow to the side of her head.
And felt a gentle caress, instead. His hand stroked from the top of her bent head, moving slowly down to her chin, lifting her face to look at him. And suddenly Jamie knew fear like she'd never known before.
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