Under Lock And Key

“If that’s all you have—”

Tyler kicked the steel bucket by the cot. The sound resonated across the room like a gunshot and startled the cat that dug its white claws into its mistress’s black-clad arms, making her flinch. “You haven’t heard a word I’ve said. Someone has set a game in motion, and you’re somehow the objective.”

Melissa returned his steady gaze unblinkingly. For an instant he was a kid back in Pennsylvania, playing chicken with one of his stubborn sisters. First one to blink is a rotten egg!

“I’m not a princess in a castle, waiting to be rescued,” Melissa said. “I don’t need some knight in tarnished armor to conjure up a conspiracy because he needs a new victory to prove to the world he’s still a hero.”

Forgetting his resolution of cool calm, Tyler stood up. The cot scraped back with a sound that would have pleased a medieval torturer. “No, you’re a recluse in a castle, shutting out the world. You can’t shut this out, Melissa. Your lifestyle makes you easy prey.”

“Why are you doing this?” she asked. “What do you have to gain by coming here and disrupting my peace?”

He wondered at the tremor in her voice and felt a nudge of sympathy for her. Not knowing was always the worst part. Answers didn’t come until you pushed past the fear. He should have remembered that after Lindsey. “I owe Freddy.”

Her short sharp laugh jabbed through the darkness. “Don’t you know by now that some debts are too costly to repay?”

He knew only too well. “And sometimes your word is all you have.”

She sliced an arm through the air in an arc. “I’m supposed to accept this improbable theory of yours based simply on your word?”