Claire counted the rotations of the fan. The steady swoop sounded like a propeller circling in her head. “So you’re telling me she doesn’t have to worry because you have no proof those emails ever existed.”
April sat as straight as the chair. “The police should’ve confiscated her computer. But they didn’t.”
“No copies, like I said.”
Her gaze fell to the table. “No copies. Just what I can remember, what I told you.” Her eyes lifted to meet Claire’s. “You don’t believe me, do you?”
“No, I don’t,” Claire said, and fled the house before the tears welling in her eyes could roll down her cheeks.
But she couldn’t lie to herself quite so easily. Maybe she didn’t want to believe April had hacked into Roni’s computer and read such damning correspondence. But if what she said wasn’t true, how did she know Tug was sterile?
This time he was going to turn her away. No matter what.
Yesterday when he left her salon, Isaac had made the decision not to have any more contact with Claire. Her problems weren’t his problems. He wasn’t even sure why he’d been getting so involved. After a random two-day photo shoot in the mountains, he’d come home determined to avoid the emotions she evoked in him, which he could only do by avoiding her.
But an hour after he walked through the door, she stood on his stoop with tears streaking her face, looking as if her world had just come to an end. He wanted to ask what was wrong, what had happened. He could tell it was something significant. But he couldn’t allow himself to be drawn in again. He was done hanging on, regretting, hoping, craving.
“I found the money under the mat. There was no need to return it. I got the haircut. But thank you,” he said, and closed the door.
He hadn’t given her the chance to say a word. Part of him hoped he’d made her mad enough to knock again. Shouting at each other would be better than this oppressive silence. He felt as if he couldn’t breathe. But she didn’t make a second attempt. He heard nothing until her car started. Then a new wave of regret washed over him, and it was all he could do not to fly out of the cabin and flag her down.
He would have, if he’d thought it would help either one of them.
But it wouldn’t. He had to be more realistic about his own shortcomings. If sex was all there was to a relationship, he could give her that. He’d done it before. But not love. He didn’t know how to give love, or be loved. His own mother hadn’t even been able to love him.
He let his breath seep out as the sound of her engine dimmed. The temptation was over. She was gone.
But no sooner had that thought crossed his mind than he grabbed his keys and went after her.
As much as he’d tried to ignore it, tried to tell himself he didn’t care, he did. He had to know why she’d been crying.
15
Isaac came racing up from behind, honking his horn, but Claire was too angry to pull over. She shouldn’t have gone to him for comfort. What had she been thinking?
She hadn’t been thinking. She’d been so upset she’d kept driving, and the next thing she knew, she was sitting in front of his cabin, wanting his arms around her more than ever before.
And what did he do when she showed up, so vulnerable and heartbroken? He’d looked down his nose at her, muttered a few words and slammed the door in her face.
She’d been stupid to set herself up. She’d known he was angry with her. He had good reason to be. She’d mishandled the situation at her salon. But for ten years she’d had good reason to be angry with him and she’d let it go.
A pothole jerked the Camaro to one side, causing her to veer dangerously close to a tree, but she managed to bring the car under control. A check in her rearview mirror told her that Isaac was right on her bumper. Why was he coming after her? Why couldn’t he just leave her alone?
Because that would be too simple, and nothing involving Isaac was simple. That was why she had to stay away from him. The past few days he’d made her feel as if he was the only person who understood what she was going through, the only person who gave a damn about it. And she’d bought in to that, assumed they’d have a real friendship. Or maybe she was the one complicating the situation. Maybe she couldn’t handle having him back in her life because she had so many other things going on—so many painful things.
Had her stepfather and stepmother schemed to kill Alana as April claimed? Had they purposely taken Alana out of the picture so they could have what they wanted?
If what Isaac believed was true, the same trusted loved ones hired Les Weaver to kill David in order to cover up what they’d already done.
She couldn’t fathom that Tug or Roni would ever go that far. It would make a lie of everything she’d always thought they felt for her, but all the evidence seemed to point in their direction.
Isaac’s big tires sprayed dirt against the side of her car as he drew even with her. He honked and swerved toward her, trying to force her to pull over, but she refused to do that. In most places, the road wasn’t wide enough for two cars. She could hear tree branches scraping her passenger door. But she gave her car more gas instead of less, assuming he’d fall back when he realized she wouldn’t stop.
He didn’t. He continued to honk his horn.
When she looked over, she saw that he’d lowered his window and was yelling for her to stop. She knew she was being reckless. But so was he. And the anger behind her actions numbed the pain she’d been feeling a few minutes earlier. That alone caused her to embrace it.
She tried to cut him off, get him to stop, without success. He was too damn stubborn, and too confident in his driving ability to worry about his own safety—
The tree root seemed to come out of nowhere. When she hit it, the car jerked to the left. Then she overcorrected and had to slam on her brakes before smashing into a tamarack.
That gave him his chance. He whipped around her and came to a skidding stop, blocking her in so she couldn’t move forward.
They both got out at the same time.
“What the hell were you trying to prove just now?” he shouted as he stalked through the swirling dust. “Were you trying to get yourself killed?”
That was an exaggeration. She doubted she would’ve died. She could’ve been injured, though. Her heart pounded from the near miss, but she liked the adrenaline rush. It made her feel invincible for a change. “You’re the one who nearly caused an accident. You had no right to come up beside me on this road!”