been nothing but kind, in fact proving to her that her sister’s determination after Peter that all men were scum wasn’t true in the least.
Noah might be hard to read and far too gruff, but he was the furthest thing from scum she’d ever met.
She glanced at Seth, who popped his smiling face out of the tent opening and screeched.
“Except for you, of course, baby,” Addie said, grinning at Seth. Growing like a weed. It hurt to look at him sometimes, some mix of sorrow and joy causing an unbearable pain in her heart.
He’d settled in so well here. Their routine worked, and what would she do when she left? Where else would she find this kind of job where he got to be with her? Even if she could find a job that would allow her to afford day care, they wouldn’t have the kind of security she needed. Seth always needed to be with her in case they needed to escape.
Like now.
She squeezed her eyes shut. She was in an impossible situation. She didn’t want to put Noah—or any of the Carsons—at risk of Peter, but if she ran away without thinking things through, she risked Seth’s well-being.
“No! No! No!” Seth yelled happily, making a quick crawling beeline for the door.
Addie took a few steps before scooping Seth up into her arms, a wriggling mass of complaint.
“He’s not back yet,” Addie said gently, settling Seth on her hip as she moved to the windows to close the curtains for the night. Sometimes, though, she and Seth stood here and watched the stars wink and shimmer in the distance while they waited for Noah’s last return of the evening.
It felt like home, this place. Even with a man whose life she didn’t share and was her boss living under the same roof. It was all so right. How could she leave?
And how can you stay?
She shook her head against the thought and closed the curtains. As she stepped back toward the kitchen to gather Seth’s tent, she noticed something on the floor.
An envelope. Odd. Dread skittered through her. Noah always brought the mail in when he came to grab lunch. He always put it in the same place. Which was most definitely not the floor.
Maybe it had fallen. Maybe someone had managed to shoehorn the envelope through the bottom of the door; most of the weather stripping was in desperate need of being replaced.
Her name was written in dark block letters. With no address. She swallowed, her body shaking against her will.
Seth wiggled in her arms and it was a good anchor to reality. She had a precious life to keep safe. Somehow. Someway. She was the only one who could.
She forced herself to bend down and place Seth gently on the floor. He crawled off for the tent, and with a shaking hand Addie picked up the envelope.
Slowly, she walked over to the table and sat down. She stared at it, willing her breathing to even and her hands to stop shaking. She’d open it, and then she’d know what her next move would have to be.
She forced one more breath in and out and then broke the seal of the envelope and pulled out the sheet of paper. Feeling sick to her stomach, Addie unfolded the paper until she could see text.
I see you, Addie.
She pressed her fingers to her mouth, willing herself not to break down. She’d come this far. She couldn’t break down every time he found her. She just had to keep going, over and over again, until he didn’t.
She wanted to drop the paper. Forget it existed. But she didn’t have that option. She folded it back up and slid it inside the envelope, then pushed it into her pocket. She’d keep it. A reminder.
He wanted her scared. She didn’t know why that seemed to be his priority when he could have her killed and take Seth far away.
There was no point trying to rationalize a sociopath’s behavior. She knew one thing and one thing only: Peter wouldn’t stop. So neither could she.
If she’d been alone, she might have risked staying in one spot. Just to see what he would do. But she wasn’t alone. Now she had to protect Noah and the Carsons and Delaneys who’d been so kind to her.
She stood carefully, walking stiffly over to Seth. She pulled him out of the tent, much to his screaming dismay.
She patted his back. “Come on, baby. We don’t have much time.” She glanced at the windows where the curtains were now pulled. Was he out there? Waiting for her? Was it all a lure to get her to come out?
Were his men out there? Oh, God, had they hurt Noah? True panic beat through her. She could escape. She’d had enough close calls—a landlord letting her know a man had broken into her apartment, noticing a broken motel window before she’d stepped inside—to know she could find her way out of this one.
But what if they’d hurt Noah? She couldn’t leave him. She couldn’t let them...
Seth was bucking and crying now, and Addie closed her eyes and tried to think. She couldn’t rush out without thinking. She couldn’t escape without making sure Noah was okay, which was not part of any of the escape plans she always had mapped out in the back of her mind.
She should call Laurel. She hated to call Laurel after yelling at Noah for doing so, but this wasn’t about her pride or her secrets. It was about Noah’s safety.
Seth was still screaming in her ear, kicking his little legs against her. Addie retraced her steps, perilously close to tears.
She made it to the kitchen and fumbled with the phone. She was halfway through dialing Laurel’s number when the front door squeaked open. Addie dropped the phone, scanning the kitchen for a weapon, any weapon.
If she could make it two feet, there was a butcher knife. Not much of a weapon against a gun, but—
Noah stepped inside, alone, his dark cowboy hat covering most of his face as he stomped his boots on the mat. When he glanced up at her, her relief was short lived, because there was a trickle of blood down his temple and cheek.
Addie rushed over to him, Seth’s tantrum finally over. “Oh, my God, Noah.” He was okay. Bleeding, but okay. She flung herself at him, relief so palpable it nearly toppled her. “You’re okay,” she said, hugging Seth between them.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Noah grumbled, a hard wall against her cheek.
Which was when she realized she’d miscalculated deeply. Because he would know everything was wrong now, and she had no way of brushing this off as being silly.
* * *
HE FELT ADDIE stiffen against him and then slowly pull away. She did not meet his gaze, and she did not answer his question.
He was a little too disappointed she wasn’t holding on to him anymore. “Addie,” he warned, too sharp and gruff. But the woman affected him and he didn’t know how to be soft about it. “What is it?”
“You’re...bleeding,” she offered weakly, still not looking at him.
“Yeah, one of my idiot cousins left a shovel in the middle of the yard and I tripped right into the barn door. What’s going on? And don’t lie to me. Just be honest. I’m not in the mood to play detective.”
“Are you ever in the mood for anything?” she muttered while walking away from him, clearly not expecting him to catch her words.
“You’d be surprised,” he returned, somewhat gratified when she winced and blushed. Still expressly not looking at him. It grated. That she was lying to him. That today was one big old ball of screwy.
That when she’d thrown herself at him he’d wanted to wrap his arms around her and hold her there. Worst of all, her and the kid.
“So, I just thought... I thought I heard something and—”
“Bull.” Did she