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Chapter Thirty-four

Angie pulled Kayla away from the doorway they’d been lurking behind. Using hand signals, she pointed to their bedroom and headed in that direction, knowing Kayla would follow.

Once they’d entered the beautiful, soft pearl-gray room with lime accessories where moonlight flowed in from the bay window overlooking the garden, Angie closed the door.

She dragged Kayla over to the bed where they both sat cross-legged on the quilted white cover. Grabbing a brush left on the nightstand, Angie crawled behind Kayla and began pulling the bristles through her long hair, something she knew Kayla loved.

“Tell me.” After hearing what Charli and Blake had been talking about, Angie wanted answers.

“Tell you what?”

“Everything.”

“I can’t. You heard the same as I did. Charli and I are in witness protection. It’s a secret.”

“Kayla. I’m here with you now, and I’m not going away. Don’t you figure I have a right to know who is stalking you guys? Like, I’m in danger too, right? So, spill.”

“It doesn’t work that way, Angie. The less you know, the better. Charli will send you away. I know she will. There’re no good choices here. Back in Seattle, they made it very clear that I couldn’t tell anyone about this. No one. That means you. Not if I want to keep you safe.”

“Shit, Kayla.” Angie cussed under her breath. “Hold on. That’s not even your real name.”

“It’s going to be after this is all over. I want to make it legal. I like it, don’t you? It has a nice sound… Kay-la.”

Gently, Angie smacked her with the brush. “Quit changing the subject.” Then she continued to stroke Kayla’s hair rhythmically. “You saw some guy killing someone, you and Charli, and now the murderer is coming after you. Is that about right?”

“No. Charli didn’t see it, just me. And quit probing.”

“Right. I remember now. Charli’s a Fed. She’s your protector, your handler, babysitter, or whatever they call people who take care of the underage kids in these kinds of situations.”

“Charli’s my sister.”

“No, Kayla, she’s not.” Angie threw down the brush and yanked Kayla around to look her in the face. “She’s just a cop doing her job.”

“No. You don’t understand.”

“Yeah. I fucking do. I thought she cared about me when she beat up the sick slimy bastard. Crazy me, I thought I mattered to her.”

“It did. You do. How can you question that?”

“Because now I know she’s a cop. She was just doing what she gets paid for.”

Anger exploded over Kayla’s face, and her eyes stared daggers. She pushed Angie, almost off the bed. If the other girl hadn’t grabbed onto the headboard, she’d have tumbled over.

“You listen to me, Ang. Charli broke protocol to help you. She left me alone in the car, knowing it was against all the rules, just so she could deal with your stinking life. She didn’t have to. She chose to.”

A small chunk of the iceberg lodged in Angie’s gut diminished, but only a little. “Fuck!” She hit out at the bed, her fist punching once and then again. “I’m all fucked up.”

“Yeah, well you’re not the only one who’s fucked up, Angie. Things are not always about you.” Kayla slid her fingers through her hair in the front and tossed it back over her shoulders, a habit she had whenever she felt under pressure. “It’s not Charli’s fault that I ran to her place the night I saw the murder.Iinvolved her in this mess. Then I insisted if they wanted my testimony in court, only Charli could take me into custody. It was all me, not her. Everyone’s in danger because of me. I should just go out there, let that son of a bitch shoot me and save someone else from getting killed.” Crying harder, unable to stop, Kayla hid her face, the tears drenching her hands and running over, dripping onto her legs.

Scared shitless now, seeing the avalanche she’d begun with her demands, Angie scrambled up next to Kayla and wrapped her arm around her shoulder. She started crying too. Something she hadn’t done for many, many years.

Once she’d given up hope of ever escaping her miserable existence, the tears had stopped, replaced by so much anger that she’d often wondered how her body still performed when everything inside felt blocked, rock-hard… completely and utterly frozen.

“I’m sorry, Kayla. I’m a shit. Just ignore me.”

“You don’t understand. I met Melissa, the agent who died. She looked after me when Charli had some business, and she was really nice… and now she’s dead.”

“God, I’m sorry, Kayla. Come on, stop crying, okay? If you get me started, I’ll never be able to stop.” Angie swiped her eyes with her arm and patted Kayla, unsure of how to hold her or comfort her. That behavior wasn’t precisely in her bag of tricks. “You’re special. Of course, Charli wants to protect you. And Blake. Even me. That badass bag of shit has to come through me to get near you, you know what I mean? And that ain’t never gonna happen.”


Tags: Mimi Barbour Thriller