Holding Strong
Page 76

 Lori Foster

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What things? Denver wondered.
Firm, Cherry told him, “I have nothing to do with any of that,” leading Denver to believe she at least understood what Carver meant.
“The hell you don’t. Before the ambulance took her off, Janet said you’d know where to look.”
Honest confusion beetled Cherry’s brows. “I have no idea what she’s talking about. Janet never, ever discussed business with me.”
“Bullshit. She couldn’t talk freely, not with so many people around. But she said you’d know. She said to get you back here.”
This time her laugh reeked of sarcasm. “That’s not happening.”
“Oh, it’s happening, Cherry darlin’. Resign yourself.”
She shook her head in denial. “No.”
“One way or another,” Carver warned.
“Carver—”
“Think of it as a homecoming.”
“That place was never my home!”
The panicked pitch to her words had Denver sitting up more, getting closer to help her remember that she wasn’t alone.
Carver snickered. “What’re you so afraid of, Cherry darlin’?” He spoke in a malicious, singsong voice. “You know you’d enjoy playing in the woods again, this time without Janet around to ruin the fun.”
She dropped the phone to the bed and leaned away from it. “Don’t you dare—”
Tone hard again, he said, “You know I dare a lot, don’t you, little sister?”
Furious, she yelled, “Stop calling me that!”
Denver didn’t like the way things had suddenly turned, with Cherry losing her control. Ignoring the cell phone, he reached for her, but she dodged him.
Breathing hard, she told Carver, “I am not your sister.”
A beat of silence built the tension, then Carver whispered, “Nice of you to remind me.”
That made her blanch—and Denver understood why. Despite her resistance, he drew her closer, reminding her that he wouldn’t let anyone touch her, definitely not Carver.
Relenting, she leaned into him as she said to Carver, “You disgust me.”
“Stop being such a spoiled bitch. If you get your ass back home where you belong, I promise to play real nice.”
“Not in a million years.”
“It’s late. Sleep on it and I know you’ll come to the right decision. I’ll expect a call tomorrow. No longer than that.” He paused. “Oh, and Cherry darlin’? Dream of me.” The call died.
She sat there, still staring at the phone.
After moving the cell to the nightstand, Denver rubbed her nape. “Hey.”
Very slowly, Cherry looked up at him. She drew in a slow breath, blew it out and tried to relax her shoulders. “I’m sorry you had to hear that.”
“I wanted to be here, remember?” He pressed a warm kiss to her forehead. “You want to explain any of that?”
Wary, she shook her head. “I wish I could. But I have no idea what Janet meant. I was never involved in their business. Never.”
“He said she ruined the fun.”
Uncomfortable with the reminder, Cherry waved it off. “She sometimes defended me against the others.”
“But not enough?”
She looked away. “Janet was sometimes...kinder—but she considered me an outsider, same as they did.” Her dark eyes met his. “I have no idea how I could help them find anything.”
“Do you think the same people who murdered your parents could also be responsible for killing Carver’s dad and putting Janet in the hospital?”
“I don’t know.” Sliding her gaze away from his, she toyed with the edge of the sheet. “It seems possible.”
There was that lack of trust again. What did she think he would do after he found out the whole truth?
Or was she more worried about what Carver would do if she told anyone?
He should insist on more answers, but she looked to be at her limit. “It’s late. How about we get some sleep and tomorrow we can talk about it more. Maybe something will come to you.”
The reprieve had her melting against him in soft, sweet relief. “That sounds good.” She yawned theatrically. “I really am beat now.”
She really was elusive, but he let it go. He wanted to know it all, everything that concerned her, now and in the past. One way or another he’d uncover all her secrets—whether she wanted him to or not.
Denver didn’t miss the irony of that, since, despite his assurances, he had no plans to unload his burdens on her. His family issues were private, unsettling, and as far as he was concerned, not up for discussion.