A Week From Sunday (3 page)

Of all that she’d needed to do, the most difficult task had been deciding where to go. As an only child, she had no brother or sister to run to, nor were there any cousins whom she knew well enough to impose upon. Her family was made up mostly of elderly aunts and uncles on her father’s side who lived in or near Shreveport; running to them would offer her no sanctuary. In the end, she’d decided on one of her mother’s relatives, Aunt Madeline who lived in Mississippi, as her only option. After the passing of her own mother, Madeline had come to stay with her and her father in Louisiana for a couple of months. Adrianna remembered her as a warm, friendly woman who was quick to offer comfort.
Surely, she’ll be happy to see her niece!
Still, fearful of rejection, she’d decided not to call or write Madeline of her arrival. She’d have to hope for the best.

A week from Sunday . . . a week from Sunday . . .

Stifling a yawn, Adrianna kept her eyes focused straight ahead. She’d been on the road for hours after getting up before dawn in order to make her escape. Her father’s car had received little use since its purchase; once Charles Moore’s health had started to deteriorate he’d rarely gone out. Adrianna had learned to drive from necessity and had become confident in her ability. Leaving the house at first light, she’d overcome her selfish desire to look back, and pressed onward. The rain began an hour out of Shreveport, and had steadily grown worse. She was one of only a few drivers foolhardy enough to brave the bad weather, and she’d had the roads mostly to herself. The raging downpour was nerve-racking, but she had left Shreveport; she had done what she’d set out to do.

Although the thought of leaving her home had frayed her nerves, she had to admit to a twinge of excitement, too. She was moving on into the unknown. From this day forward, everything would be different. As loath as she was to admit it, Richard’s claim that she had had an easy life handed to her by her father
was
partially true. Once she was settled she’d need to fend for herself: find a place to live, a job with which to support herself. In short, she’d need to start living.

From around a slight curve in the road, a town suddenly came into view. A small, weather-beaten sign announced it as Lee’s Point. Adrianna had never heard of it. Through the rain, she could see a scattering of houses on the outskirts that grew denser as she neared the town’s center. This was followed by a row of businesses lining the main street like towels hanging from a clothesline. No one was in sight, not surprising, given the weather. Since she’d left Shreveport and moved into the countryside, she’d passed through many towns similar to this one, although they seemed to be spread farther and farther apart as the miles went by.

For the briefest of moments, she thought about stopping and riding out the storm. Surely the town would have a restaurant where she could have a hot meal. Besides, a bit of rest would do her good. But before her weary arms could pull the car into a parking spot, the image of Richard Pope’s gloating face filled her thoughts, and she knew it would be foolish to stop, even if it were only for an hour or two. She’d stopped only once since leaving Shreveport, to get a sandwich and go to the restroom, and even then she’d hurried as quickly as she could. The fear of his finding her was too great to ignore. If she were to be found . . . As quickly as she’d come upon Lee’s Point, the town was behind her and lost to view.

“Damn you, Richard Pope!” she swore.

Instinctively, Adrianna shivered at the memory of Richard grabbing her by the wrists and telling her that they would be married. She still couldn’t shake her revulsion at the way he’d looked at her and the words he’d spoken; they’d been burned into her thoughts ever since. He’d been so confident, so sure that she’d come along willingly. She was repulsed by the very thought of becoming his wife! He had somehow managed to get control of her father’s fortune, but he would
never
get control of her.

By now, back in Shreveport, he must have come to the house and discovered she was gone. She could only imagine how surprised and angry he would be. However, it was after he’d sufficiently calmed down that he would become truly dangerous. He was a calculating man, a trait that had made him both successful and wealthy as a lawyer, and he
would
come looking for her. The farther she went, therefore, the harder it would be for him to find her.

A sudden flash of lightning illuminated the sky above her. In the brief glare, she could see the trees bowing deeply in the face of the pounding rain and punishing wind. A broken branch skittered across the pavement in front of her car before disappearing into the gloom of the thick trees that lined the road. The storm was worsening. A pang of regret gnawed at Adrianna’s stomach; maybe it would have been a good idea to have stopped at Lee’s Point after all. But it was too late now to turn back.

It was also too late to pull the car over to the side of the highway. Since Shreveport, the conditions had worsened. While these county roads were paved, they were narrow and full of cracks and holes. The shoulders were a quagmire of mud. If she were to go off the hard surface the wheels would become stuck in the mud and she wouldn’t be able to get out; she’d be at the mercy of a passing traveler’s willingness to help, and she hadn’t seen another vehicle for quite a while. No, it was better to keep going.

A quick glance in the rearview mirror showed the belongings that she’d tossed haphazardly into the backseat. She’d limited herself to the things she would need immediately, mostly clothing. She had also added a few family heirlooms that she couldn’t bear to part with. Treasured most of all was a photograph of herself and her mother that had been taken shortly after her birth. For as long as she could remember, it had sat on her father’s bedside table. The beautiful mother-of-pearl picture frame had greeted him every morning. The thought of Richard Pope having it made her heart heavy. She’d also scrounged up as much money as she could find. It hadn’t been much, since most of her funds were tied directly to her father, but it would be enough to get her started.

Before she could break contact with the mirror, she took a long look into her own face. Her hair was a tangled mess. Exhausted, bloodshot pupils stared back from under heavy lids. Deep, dark circles ringed her eyes, giving a clear indication of her stress and fatigue.
But what could she expect?
She hadn’t managed to sleep for more than an hour or two at a time since Richard Pope had upended her life with his ridiculous demands. Her very bones ached with the weariness of her heart. As each of the eight days had passed, the uneasiness had increased. She wasn’t sure how much more she could have taken.

The blare of a horn split through the noise of the storm, startling Adrianna’s attention away from the mirror. Her eyes snapped back to the road. Through the rain-streaked windshield, she was horrified to see another vehicle coming directly at her!
While she’d been looking at her reflection, deep in thought, she’d drifted across the center of the road and into the path of another motorist!

“Oh my God!” she cried out.

With all the strength her tired arms could muster, she yanked at the steering wheel, desperately trying to pull the car back to safety. Hand over hand, she turned and turned, but nothing happened. With horror, Adrianna realized that the wheels were sliding; with all the water and mud on the road, the tires were skating across the concrete surface. Even taking her foot off of the gas did nothing to stop her headlong plunge into a collision. All she could do was watch helplessly.

As the distance between the vehicles shortened, time seemed to slow to a standstill. It was as if she were in a movie, with every pass of the windshield wiper carrying the film forward another frame. Her arms were locked tightly at the elbows, her whole body tense and rigid, preparing for the impact she couldn’t prevent.

Another fork of lightning pierced the sky, lighting up the dark afternoon gloom. In that brief flash, Adrianna received a clearer view of the other vehicle. It wasn’t another car but a small truck, its back end covered with a soaked tarpaulin. Inside the truck’s cab, two men stared back at her.

The very moment that the lightning’s glare vanished, time leapt forward. With a sickening crunch, Adrianna’s car slammed into the pickup truck’s driver-side door. The screech of metal grinding against metal was deafening. The force of the blow shattered the car’s windows, sending shards of glass raining down into the cab. As if she were a doll, Adrianna was thrown against the door, her head pounding hard into the frame. The pain was enormous, her vision clouded and spun, but she refused to lose consciousness. Even now, her hands tried to move the wheel.

Her car bounced off the truck and flew back toward the center of the road. The force of the collision had been so great that it tipped the smaller vehicle up onto two wheels. All of the belongings she’d brought from Shreveport flew into the air and whirled about as if they were in the thrall of a tornado! Adrianna’s heart was in her throat as she waited for the car to come back to the ground, but the force of the crash was too much. Slowly but surely, the car continued over until the passenger’s side door slammed against the concrete. The vehicle’s frame shook violently.

Still moving, the car slid forward on its side. Scared out of her wits, Adrianna somehow managed to hang on to the steering wheel, her body suspended above the wreckage below. Finally, after what seemed forever, the mangled vehicle came to a stop. Hot, searing pain filled Adrianna’s arms, and she gave in to it and released her grip. With a thud, she fell among shards of glass and her belongings.

“Ohhh!” she sobbed as her head whirled with pain.

Rain fell through the broken windows, wetting her face and soaking her clothes. As she looked up through the drops, she could see out the remnants of the front windshield. By some miracle, the windshield wiper continued to run, wiping at glass that was no longer there. In her frazzled mind, Adrianna could still hear the noise it was supposed to make. And the words that had tormented her from the moment they’d been spoken were running through her mind as she finally gave in to the searing pain and fell into unconsciousness.

A week from Sunday . . . a week from Sunday . . . a week from Sunday.

Chapter 3

A
DRIANNA WAS FIRST AWARE
of rain splashing against the windowpane. Cracking open her eyes she wondered why the windshield wiper had stopped. She winced at the overhead light and closed her eyes quickly. A pounding ache washed over her; she felt nauseated, and a dizziness throbbed in time with the beat of her heart. Tentatively she reached up to touch her forehead and felt the coarseness of bandages.

Where am I?

With determination, Adrianna forced her eyes open again, bracing herself for the light. She was lying in a bed: a sheet covered her body, and her head rested on a soft pillow. The room was painted white, and the wall opposite the bed was lined with cupboards and closed with glass doors. Her eyes could not focus well enough to see what lay behind them. A pile of white linens sat next to a sink. Glass jars lined a long countertop. The smell of alcohol permeated the air.

“I see that you’re awake,” a voice said beside her.

Startled by the nearness of the voice, Adrianna turned her head slowly to see a woman sitting next to her. Green eyes regarded her intently through round, black-rimmed glasses. Dark hair streaked with touches of gray was pulled back from the woman’s face in a tight bun. She wore a white coat, and hanging from her neck was a stethoscope. She had been writing in a small notebook, which she closed and placed on her lap.

“Where am I?” Adrianna spoke the words aloud.

“You’re in Lee’s Point. I’m a doctor.”

“Doctor? Am I hurt? What happened?” Adrianna asked weakly. The inside of her mouth felt horrible, as if her tongue had grown to twice its normal size. Even her teeth hurt.

“You had an accident and were brought to my office. I’m Dr. Bordeaux,” the woman explained. “Your car slid into the path of a truck a few miles east of town.”

Even as the doctor spoke, memories came flooding back. The hopelessness she had felt as her car slid across the wet pavement, the anticipation of the collision, the jarring force of metal hitting metal, and finally the cold blackness as she sank into unconsciousness.

“Were the people in the truck hurt?” Adrianna asked, her mind in a deep, cotton-filled haze.

“Yes and no.” The doctor looked over her shoulder at the closed door to the room. At that moment a masculine voice, harsh and heavy, resounded down the hallway.

“Doctor?”

“Oh, for goodness sakes.” The doctor turned from the bed. “That man!” The sound of heavy footsteps came rapidly down the corridor. “He’s like a bull in a china shop,” the doctor said irritably and moved toward the doorway. It was suddenly filled with the body of a big man.

“Where is she? Where’s the stupid woman who slammed into me?”

“Don’t shout, Quinn. She’s here, and she’s just coming to.” The doctor put her hand on his chest and backed him out of the doorway and into the hall. “Go down to the kitchen and have a cup of coffee. We’ll talk later.”

In the few seconds the man had stood in the doorway, Adrianna’s eyes took in everything about him, and he frightened her as no other man had ever done. Not only was he big, but his hair was jet black, thick, and wild. His brows were as dark as his hair and drawn together over a large, bony nose. He had high cheekbones, and his flat cheeks were creased in deep grooves on each side of his wide mouth. It was a rough-hewn face with a jaw set in an almost brutal anger. His large, slanting eyes gleamed beneath a brush of thick lashes. They darted around the room, passed over her and away.