Flee From Evil (23 page)

“She hates me?” He deserved no less.

“Give her time to reconcile it.”

Reconcile? “How about you?”

The green orbs became watery pools. “I forgive you, Vince.”

The sigh broke from him as if he’d held it for sixteen years. The clock on the wall slowly ticked out of pace with his thumping heart.

She cleared her throat and glanced toward the woman just outside the office, obviously deep in a novel. “I’ve looked into paternity tests online.”

“Did you order one?”

She shook her head.

Vince didn’t ask why. He knew. The results would change their lives. “When you do, let me know what you need from me—blood, hair, whatever—and I’ll make sure you get it.”

Her nod was barely perceptible.

“How long does it take?”

“The website says three to five days on receipt of the samples.”

His throat constricted. This was really going to happen. He could be the father of a beautiful, wonderful teen. Cass’s daughter. Exciting and frightening all at the same time.

Or she could be Drew’s.

Vince could almost feel the steady stream of her breath across the desk. “You okay, Cass.”

She lifted a shoulder, unsure, but she didn’t correct the use of her pet name. Her hand shook as she pulled a curl from her face. She placed her palm on the desk as if to bridge the gap between them. He scanned her expression. Her eyes entreated his.

He covered her fingers with his own. “How about we pray?”

~*~

The burning took over her eyes and nose. Cassandra could barely suppress a sob. She’d hated this man for so many years and now they sat, hand-in-hand, praying they shared a child.

His thumb moved along hers in a soft sweep as he petitioned his God—their God—for peace, for discernment, for guidance. Somehow, she knew, no matter what, all would be well.

The next hour was spent planning a picnic that would kick off the new special needs program and provide funds for the supplies and extra staff they’d need.

She couldn’t fathom the dramatic turn her life had taken. Was it a good thing? She didn’t dare ask that question out loud for fear it would shatter the delicate glass that protected her.

Time was up. Plans were made. She needed to go home to her family, and face her mother’s solemnity at discovering her icon of spirituality was a real human being. Cassandra never imagined she’d be defending him to her, but that was exactly what she’d done over the last two days.

They stood, Vince on one side of the desk, Cassandra the other. The outer office was empty. Yolanda must have gone to the ladies’ rooms.

He crossed the room and opened the door for her. She neared him.

“Cassandra?”

She stopped and met the intensity of his blue gaze. It was the look he always had before he took her deep into his kisses as a youth. Today, his eyes seemed to delve into the pit of her soul, looking for the answer to the question he’d forgotten to ask. Did she want him to?

He cleared his throat and straightened. “Could I take you to dinner some time?”

The lack of certainty in his voice gave her pause. This was not the Vince she once knew. She couldn’t speak over the thrumming in her ears then felt his fingers grasping hers.

He held them between his warm palms. “Please.”

She pulled back. “Let me think about it.” Then she walked away.

Chapter Twenty-One

The SUV rattled as Cassandra pressed the gas to accelerate at the green light. One more paycheck and she might risk having Billy look at the engine. Every time she thought about it the distinct cha-ching of a cash register, signifying the emptying of her wallet, rang in her head.

Would this next paycheck cover the needed repairs? Her thoughts meandered to the man who provided that check and the meeting she’d just had with him. They’d spent several afternoons together over the past two weeks finalizing details for the picnic, and scheduling the festive equipment they’d need to rent. Cassandra couldn’t believe he’d agreed to a dunk tank. That had been a joke inspired by a vision she had of being the one to send him into the drink. His expression when she mentioned it seemed to say he was well aware of her current fantasy.

The car sputtered some more and cut out right in the middle of Route 2. She sighed, shifted to park, and cranked the engine into a clunky rhythm. “Just get me home ole girl.” She patted the dash.

Vince had asked her out to dinner again tonight. Given her mother’s new opinion of the man, she didn’t feel the time was right to check out this unusual combination of the new and old. She couldn’t get over the man who barely made eye-contact as he formed the words, as if he shielded himself from certain rejection. So unlike the old Vince who would have whispered an invitation into her hair knowing the chills would make it impossible to refuse him. She shivered even now at the long-ago memory of his breath on her ear.

How changed he was, and yet not completely. It was as if God held to gifts He had bestowed on the man while He burned and refined him into a polished vessel, an empty one, ready to be used for His Will.

If only she could be certain he was truly changed, and that all his new-found goodness wasn’t only a means to gain favor for his own selfish desires. Her mind ran back to the conversation by the water where he told her why he’d kept the cross. He could have flattered her and said it was to remind him of her, but instead he’d kept it to remember God. The old Vince would have milked the talisman to sweet talk her into bed, especially after having declared his love. The word he’d never used those many years ago.

Might she be able to love this person? The positive answer shook her and more. She could even spend the rest of her life with such a man.

The grinding and crackling of her engine reminded her of how dysfunctional that idea was. She’d thought Vince held lofty goals before. Yes, they were lofty, but he meant to be the sole recipient of any reward.

The noise continued to drowned out the war raging through her mind. She blew a strand of hair from her face as she pulled to the shoulder and shut it off. Maybe a rest and a prayer would make it go away.

Chuckling, she turned the ignition, not believing God would allow it to be that easy. Still, the plea flew from her lips before she tried the key again. But this time the engine made no sound.

Cassandra scanned the tree-lined road. One car passed along the other side, then darkness. She pulled out her cell to call Kat. Maybe she could get Billy to tow her to his shop. It looked like she had no choice but to take it. Only now, she’d have to pay the tow charge as well.

“Kat?” She said after the beep. “I’m stuck on Route 2, just before Mom’s sub-division. I don’t have Billy’s number, but I need a tow. Call me.”

She tossed the phone on the passenger’s seat. What else could go wrong?

She jolted at the knock on the window and sighed at the sight of Kevin Perkins peeking in. “Need some help?”

He backed up as she opened the door and stepped out. “Yeah, it looks like my car stalled. Do you know anything about engines?”

“Sure. Let me take a look.” He gestured for her to move aside so he could try the key. It behaved just as badly for him. He popped the hood and fished around the engine while she leaned against the door. He peeked around the hood and stared at her for a minute. His gaze was too intimate, causing her to shudder. He’d never hurt her. Would he?

Kevin’s attention traveled the dark and lonely road, the thick tree-lined shoulder, and then it seemed to roam her up and down. She’d never felt so vulnerable in his presence before. What about it bothered her tonight? It must be a residual from the panic attacks that had made a reappearance into her life. Her breathing shallowed and her heart sped.

Kevin dropped the hood, his eyes unwavering as he sauntered closer. “You’re not going to start that engine here.” He licked his lips, his gaze seeming to ravage her face and fall onto her mouth. “I guess you’ll need me to take you home.”

A gulp of air sucked into her lungs as if she’d come from the deep.

“Something wrong?” Too close. He was entirely too close.

Headlights took the curve along the road. Billy’s truck. It slowed and pulled in front of her car. He’d gotten her voice mail.

Did Kevin just curse?

Cassandra gestured to it. “I left a message with a friend. She must have gotten it.” Her smile felt pained.

Lew dropped from the high step of the large vehicle. “So what happened here?”

Kevin squared his shoulders as though preparing for a brawl.

~*~

Lew’s attention swung from Cassandra Whitaker to the leering, low-life, Kevin Perkins. Lew balled his fists and firmed his jaw. Why was that guy here … with her?

“So glad you got my message. The car just conked out.” She seemed overly chipper at Lew’s appearance.

He looked at Kevin who was visibly annoyed. “What message? I was just comin’ back from another job.” Billy had been keeping him busy with work since the delivery place fired him. A regular paycheck and his son seemed to need the help. He’d forgotten how much he loved to tinker with motors.

Her glance to the sky reminded him of Billy. One of those thank-you-God things the boy always did when life went his way.

“I’ll tell you what—” Kevin Perkins was like a tick that needed to be smothered and burned before it let go. “We’ll let Lew, here, take your vehicle, and I can drive you home.”

“Hold up, Cowboy.” Lew nodded to the woman. “We have forms she needs to fill out so we don’t get stuck with any liability issues.” He didn’t even know what that meant, but it sounded important rolling off his tongue. He figured Perkins didn’t know either, ’cause he didn’t argue. “I’ll be takin’ her to the shop, and she’ll get a ride home from Kat.”

Perkins looked between them as if trying to figure another piece of faulty logic to keep the woman, but evidently nothing formed. “Fine.” He turned to Cassandra. “See ya later.”

“Bye, Kevin. I appreciate your help.”

From the look on her face, Lew wasn’t sure he believed the woman’s words, but it wasn’t like he could figure out the sex any other day of the week. Who could?

Her eyes turned his way and registered a relief Lew felt to the core of his being. She placed a hand on his arm. “So glad you found me.” She practically sighed the words.

He grunted and nodded for her to climb into the truck. He thought about the expression that creep had as he drove away. Lew was glad he found her too.

Lew tilted the flatbed, hooked and connected, and pulled the Lincoln Aviator aboard. He’d never buy one of these over-priced SUVs. If he had the money, he’d get a 1969, classic-model Dodge Charger. Something with power. He almost chuckled at the woman driving an automobile with oomph. She’d never know what to do with it.

He climbed beside her in the vehicle and veered onto the road toward Billy’s shop.

“I hope I’m not keeping you from anything.” Cassandra bounced and jostled in the cab as the tires hit a rough patch of road.

He checked his watch. “That’s okay. I got another hour before my meeting at the church.” Shoot! He didn’t mean to say that.

“The only meetings they have tonight are—”

Lew ignored the ‘AA’ missing from the end of her sentence.

Her smile was soft and sweet as she watched the headlights coming in the other direction. He could barely hear her next words. “Good for you, Lew.”

He was beginning to agree.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Vince jogged down the front steps to the canopy set up in front of the church where Cassandra sold tickets for the day’s events. Face framed by the curls that escaped her clasp, she glanced his way as she made out change for Adam Grant and his girlfriend, Tiffany. The couple had been coming to church together for several weeks. Knowing the story that had joined them had confirmed to Vince second-chances were possible.

Cass gave Vince a smile that made him wonder if she’d finally acquiesce to his dinner invitation. He’d asked weeks ago, but she eluded him every time he tried to bring it up. It didn’t matter. They’d shared many afternoons planning this thing. So what if there was no candlelight, and Yolanda eyeballed them from outside the office window the whole time. It was a chance for them to get to know each other in a way a fancy dinner couldn’t match.

He scanned the section of the parking lot that had been cleared for picnic tables, game booths, Ayo’s basketball hoop, a moon bounce, and even a dunk tank. He sighed relief at the knowledge his time on the bench would be at the end of the day. Still, he’d been told his appearance in the tank promised to bring lots of cash to the program.

Amit stopped in front of him, already holding a helium-filled balloon and a cotton-candy-wrapped stick. He had streams of tickets flowing from his shorts pocket, and whiskers painted on his face.

Vince pointed to the tickets. “You better hold onto those. They look like they might fall out.”

Amit’s head bounced with the wide grin as he shoved them deeper into his pants. “A man’s wiches may wansom his life, but a poor man hears no thweat.”