“We didn’t want you to have to know.”
Hunter had wrapped a blanket around Ray and was helping him to the door. “As worthless as this piece of shit is, we’ve got to get him to a hospital before he bleeds to death,” he said. “There’s no phone service here.”
“You’re going to do that by yourself?” Madeline asked anxiously.
“I’ll tie him up. The way he’s bleeding, I doubt he’s capable of giving me any trouble but I won’t take any chances, okay?”
She hesitated, then stepped out of the way, her gaze trailing after the two of them. “It was me or him,” she said softly.
Taking a deep breath, Clay reached out to her. “I understand.”
Madeline stared at her stepbrother’s outstretched palm. She felt so alone, so isolated. For two decades she’d been searching for what he and Irene, Grace and Molly had known all along.
But…Me or him. Her stepfamily had had to make a similar choice, hadn’t they?
“I heard you…Clay,” Ray taunted as he limped past. “You’re going to…prison with me. She’s…going to send us both…there.”
Madeline drew herself up. “What are you talking about, Ray? I didn’t hear Clay admit anything. Did you, Hunter?”
“Nope, not me,” Hunter said. Then Madeline slipped her hand inside her stepbrother’s and fell into his arms.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice choked with emotion.
She closed her eyes, reveling in the inherent strength of the man who’d stood between her and what could’ve happened had their family been torn apart. As hard as it must have been, he’d built and guarded the fortress that had protected them all, been there for her in every way he could. Despite what her father had done and the terrible secret he carried because of it, Clay had provided her with food, shelter and love. And he’d started doing that at only sixteen years old.
“I love you,” she whispered.
“Ray and I will take his truck,” Hunter called, using the ropes that had bound her to bind him. “You guys come when you’re ready.”
Madeline pulled back, laughing a little as she dashed a hand across her wet cheeks. “Unfortunately, I love him, too,” she said, speaking in a low voice so Hunter couldn’t hear her as he wrangled the keys out of Ray.
Clay retained his grip on her for a second longer. “You’re serious? You know that already?”
She nodded.
“He’s a good man,” he said thoughtfully. “One of the few who might be good enough for you.”
Hunter had a new picture on his phone. Every time he used it, he saw Madeline smiling back at him. It’d been three weeks since he’d left Mississippi, but he kept opening that phone and remembering.
He’d called her once, just to make sure she was okay. She sounded as if she was recovering, adjusting as well as could be expected after her whole world had shifted off-kilter. But the conversation had been strained, with both of them wanting to say more than they did. Hunter didn’t see the point of trying to maintain a long-distance relationship, so he hadn’t called her again. And yet…she was present in his thoughts all the time. When he closed his eyes, he could still feel the soft skin of her neck against his lips as he’d felt it that night in her bed…
“I ran into Selena the other day,” Antoinette said, joining him at the restaurant table where he’d been waiting for her to get a coffee drink.
He put his phone away. His ex-wife had had another collagen treatment. One side was slightly more swollen than the other, but she’d lined her lips perfectly with a deep-pink pencil and filled them in with shiny gloss. With her long blond hair falling in wisps around her face, and that low-cut, tight-fitting white sweater, she reminded him of Pamela Anderson.
That was probably intentional. If he knew her, she’d brought Pamela’s picture to her plastic surgeon.
Hunter could tell the other men in the coffee shop were impressed. It was hard not to stare at a woman who had br**sts that big. But to Hunter, Antoinette didn’t look pretty—she looked plastic. A walking, talking Barbie doll. Maybe that was just because he knew what she was like under all the makeup and the trendy clothes. Anyway, she was nothing like the real, earthy woman he’d made love to in Mississippi.
“Hello?” she said, clearly annoyed when he didn’t respond.
She’d mentioned Selena already. She brought up their old neighbor whenever she wanted to remind him of his shortcomings, generally right before she demanded a large concession. But it wasn’t going to work today. Mississippi had changed him. He wasn’t sure what had made the difference, but he was tired of apologizing for the past.
“What’d she have to say?” he asked indifferently.
“She asked about you, of course.”
“What’d you tell her?”
“That you’re the same cheating son of a bitch you always were.”
Hunter stretched his legs out in front of him. “I cheated—once—because I was miserably unhappy.”
She straightened, obviously surprised by his frankness. He’d always accepted the blame before, so this was something new. “Do you think being married to you was a picnic for me?” she retaliated.
He shrugged. “At least you wanted to be with me. I never wanted to be with you.”
Her eyelashes fluttered as she blinked. “You should’ve thought of that before you got me pregnant!”
“Got you pregnant? You wanted to get pregnant,” he said. “As far as I’m concerned, we were both at fault.”
“Are you accusing me of trying to trap you?”
When her voice rose, a few people turned to stare. Hunter ignored them. “Yes.”
“That’s a lie!”
“Is it?” He cocked a disbelieving eyebrow, but he wasn’t willing to argue about it. Antoinette would deny it to her dying day. “Regardless, it’s over, Antoinette. All the extra money. All the fighting. All the games.”
Her mouth sagged open. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Yes, you do. You’ve turned me into my own worst enemy. But I’m clean and sober now, and I’m going to stay that way. I’m also going to move on with my life. No more regret for failing at a marriage I didn’t want in the first place. I can’t change the past.”
“That’s how you’re going to excuse your behavior?”