Code of Silence (6 page)

SEVEN

T
he drilling noise ceased. She slid her hands down until she peeked over her fingertips. “It stopped.” The sudden quiet in the room served as a jolt of clarity. Gabriella dropped her hands. She couldn't afford to stop and cry. She needed to think straight.

Luke stood up and pulled her into a hug. The warmth and strength from his arms and chest softened a hardened part of her heart. Gabriella couldn't remember the last time she'd been held, been comforted in such a way. She wanted to grab on and never let go. Her throat ached with a held-back sob. If she gave in to his comfort, she'd lose it and the tears would flow. Once that dam broke she knew it would take time she didn't have to get herself back together. She couldn't let her guard down now. She straightened and hardened her features.

Luke stepped back, but his fingers lingered on her shoulders. “I'm so sorry you have to deal with this...and with me in your face to boot.”

“What do you mean? I told you I'm glad I'm not in this alone.” She searched his eyes. In the dim lighting they looked royal blue.

“I know. But me specifically here reminding you about Thad with so much to deal with...”

That name, even when referring to another person, always made her flinch. She scrunched up her face. “Why are you talking about Thad? Thad is the farthest thing from my mind. I... I've been over him for years.” She took a small breath. “Oh. Is it because you're thinking about
Rose
?”

She'd done it again. Why couldn't she say her name without sounding like a jealous girlfriend? “I remind you of what you lost with her.”

His lips turned downward in an exaggerated fashion. “No. I thought you were the one having a problem. The breakup didn't hit me as hard as you.”

Why did guys have to act all macho? Why did he have to make it a comparison? Did he mean to imply her heart got stomped on the hardest?

She narrowed her eyes. “As I said before, I'm fine. Thad-wise. So you can stop bringing it up. I'm not fine about this situation or my mom lying to me.” She threw a hand up toward his chest, and he dropped his arms. “At least you'll
eventually
have someone looking for you. You still have family.” She pointed her fingers to her heart. “If I lose my aunt, I've got no one. They were my only fam—” Her voice cracked as the lights disappeared. The small beam from the flashlight remained.

It flickered and went black.

Her senses heightened, and she reached her hands out, widening her eyes. Blackness permeated every direction she looked. The room didn't lighten. Her vision never adapted because there were no light sources to adapt to in the room.

Fingers brushed against hers.

“Gabriella?”

“Yes.” She grabbed onto his fingers. “I think when you fell, your scream gave Rodrigo ideas. He wants to scare us now.”

He scoffed. “I
didn't
scream. It was more of a manly wail.”

“Luke?” Her heart pounded. Her eyes burned from the lack of blinking. She wanted—needed—to see something, anything. “I'm scared. I admit it. I feel like a big baby, but I hate the dark. I hate feeling trapped.” Her words came out so fast and hurried she forgot to breathe. Her head spun, and she panted, attempting to fight off the dizzy feeling.

“Gabriella. It's okay. I'm here.” He spoke in a low voice, just barely above a whisper. He pulled her fingers toward him and wrapped her in a hug. “Just breathe.” His chin rested on top of her head.

The closeness gave her the courage to close her eyes. Nothing remained but his heartbeat, steady. Her own heart slowed. The dizzy feeling passed, but exhaustion swooped in and took its place.

She wanted to sleep, wanted to forget. “I'm sorry,” she whispered. “I'm embarrassed I fell apart like that.”

“You don't need to explain.” His words vibrated through his chest. “Everyone has fears.”

She straightened and grabbed his forearms just in case her head decided to spin again. “Is that so? I can't imagine Luke McGuire having any fear.”

The silence seemed to echo in the steel room.

“Horses,” he finally said.

She guffawed. She didn't mean to, but it couldn't be helped. The picture of big, strong Luke afraid of such beautiful creatures didn't compute. “Sorry. I didn't mean to laugh.” She cleared her throat to keep the humorous image at bay. “Horses,” she repeated, her inflection revealing her disbelief.

He grabbed her hand and lifted it until her fingertips brushed against his hair. Her heart beat wildly at the intimate gesture.

“I have a scar here.”

Her fingers sank into his hair and felt a raised area. He dropped his hand away from hers, but Gabriella followed the line along his scalp. It traveled for what seemed like a good six inches. She pulled back. “What happened?”

“My grandpa had horses. I was helping him clean the stable while my brother brushed the horse. It was going to be my turn to take a ride that day, but something spooked the horse and—”

She gasped, visualizing horse hooves. “It kicked you?”

“In the head. Had to have surgery and a stent placed to keep down the swelling for several months.”

She couldn't imagine how hard that must have been. “How old were you?”

“Six.”

Her face heated. A small boy against a horse's powerful kick turned her stomach. “It's amazing you lived to tell the tale.”

“Yes. As my mom likes to remind me of repeatedly.”

She should've known better than to judge his fears so hastily. “I'd be scared of them too, if I were you. How horrible.”

“It's in the past. I stay away from them and do just fine.”

“Then it's good I didn't take you to the stables.”

He remained silent for a few seconds. “There are still horses on the property?”

“Two of them.”

“I...uh...assumed you'd sold them before you came to me.”

“I haven't had time, but that's the plan. I put feelers out a couple days ago. It shouldn't take long to find them new digs. They're pretty mild-mannered and mostly graze in the pasture, but someone does have to check up on them every couple of days.”

She heard him shift next to her. “Did I see batteries in the storage box?”

She mentally pictured the container. “I think so, but they looked corroded to me. Maybe there's just a short in the flashlight bulb.”

“If it uses LED bulbs, we should be in business.”

Gabriella didn't want to get her hopes up. “Did you taste the granola bars? I'm sure Mom didn't frequently replenish the emergency box. The flashlight is probably ancient.”

The space beside her suddenly seemed void. He'd moved from his spot. Her heart went back into overdrive. She wanted to bang on the doors or take her chances and unlock the dead bolts and run. But that was what Rodrigo wanted. She didn't want to admit it to Luke in the lake, but he'd likely been right—Rodrigo didn't care if Luke lived, but he wanted her alive until he got what he wanted.

The screeching of metal against metal made her want to scream. “What are you doing?”

“Sorry. Twisting open the flashlight. Checking the batteries as best I can. Sometimes there is a short in the connection.”

The screeching returned, followed by a couple of thumps and then, mercifully, a small beam of light. “We probably should touch it the least amount as possible so it won't go out again.”

The shadows emphasized the lines in his face, particularly his lips. He set the flashlight on its end and leaned back onto his hands. “We need to take advantage of the light while we have it. Devour that diary and see if you can come up with anything to help us. Anything at all.”

She fingered the leather book. “I don't think Mom wrote in it very often. Didn't seem to be much new.”

He shrugged. “You might read it with new insight now, though.” He leaned forward and placed a hand on her forearm. “I know it's going to be hard.”

Even in the dark he could see right through her. She was making excuses because she didn't know if she could handle reading any more of her mother's words. The pain of losing Mom, coupled with the betrayal of finding about her other life, squeezed her throat until it hurt. She wanted to do anything but read Mom's thoughts and feelings right now. “It's so unlikely it'll help,” she whispered.

He nodded. “I know. And yet, here we are.”

Gabriella tilted her head to the left and to the right, trying to ease the knots forming between her shoulder blades. “You're right.”

She held the book up to the weak light and began reading. The first words seemed familiar. As a child, she'd snuck into her mother's room countless times to peek in the journal. It beckoned her, especially when she could tell her mom and great-aunt had been fighting or when she suspected one of the contractors had a crush on Mom.

The journal always disappointed, though. Bible verses and things she was thankful for filled most of the pages.

Luke made it hard for her to concentrate. He rifled through the dressers again and pulled out another fleece throw. Luke stepped over the storage container and offered it to her. “The temperature keeps dropping. You need to stay warm.”

Now that he said it, she realized the temperature had dipped further. The chill hadn't registered as a possible reason why her muscles wouldn't relax. She accepted and wrapped the throw around herself in such a way that she could lean against the wall while she read. “I'd say this was more of a thankfulness journal than a diary.”

Luke pulled out the box of chocolates again, this time sampling one before offering her the box. “These kept better than the granola bars.” He jutted his chin toward the journal. “Not a bad idea. My mom always told me that joy was something on the outside expressed by faith on the inside. She said the key was focusing on whatever was true, noble, right, pure, admirable—”

“You're paraphrasing another verse in Philippians.”

“—lovely...”

His eyes looked straight into hers when he said the last word, warming her from head to toe. She dropped her gaze back to her mother's writing and wondered if her hair had steamed dry. The thought brought a smile to her face. “You better put those away,” she said, referring to the chocolate box. “We can't run for our lives if we have a stomachache.”

“See?” He grinned. “That's hopeful talk.”

* * *

Luke jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. “Rodrigo's only been drilling on the door that leads to your mother's room. What if we slipped out the door that goes into your room?”

“Do you remember what that door felt like? It's a beast to unlock and move. There's no quick in and out.”

Luke placed his hands on his hips. “So we do our best. And, if we don't succeed, and he catches us, we offer him the cash.”

Her head darted around. “Where is it?”

Luke lifted a drawstring bag from behind the storage container. “I gathered it while you were reading.” He handed it to her. “Roughly thirty-five thousand dollars.”

“You counted it?”

He hoped the darkness worked in his favor as his face flushed. The allure of money had always been strong and something he battled. He knew he could only serve one master and had decided long ago the Lord would always win, but there was something about stacks of cash...and he knew someone as sweet and giving as Gabriella would never understand that. “It made sense to count while I picked it up.”

She kept her head down but lifted her eyes. “You think he might take it and leave?”

Luke wanted to say yes, but in his heart he knew. “No. At most it'll be a distraction. Although, I pray I'm wrong, and he leaves.”

Gabriella nodded.

“So we're in agreement? We try to make a run for it?”

“Doesn't it make more sense to wait until he starts drilling again?”

Luke shook his head. “No, that'd make him closer.”

“But the noise of the drill would actually work in our favor as we open the opposite door. Besides, we won't know where he is if he's not drilling.”

“Fair point, but then we'd have to walk down the hallway to get to the stairs. He'd see us. There's no way we could avoid him then.”

She reached for his hands, her eyes wide. “Remember? There's a fire safety ladder underneath my bed. If we timed it right and were quiet, we could go out the window.” Her eyes drifted down. “Your leg. It wouldn't be easy.”

The mere mention made his wound throb, but he couldn't let that stop the means to her safety. “You don't worry about that. My arms can do most of the work.”

She smirked. “Good at the monkey bars, were you?”

“I don't know about that, but my dad often told me and my brothers to stop monkeying around.” He stepped closer to their possible escape. “So we're agreed. He starts drilling and we—”

“Go to the barn,” she finished.

“Go to the police,” he said simultaneously.

She growled. “I already told you I can't do that.” She sighed. “But you can. If we make it out of here, go. Get to safety. Tell the police there's been a break-in at my place, but please don't mention me. I at least need a chance to try to save my aunt.”

He could not believe this woman. As if he could leave her alone. He shrugged but didn't agree.

She stood and grabbed the fire extinguisher off the top shelf. He gestured toward her. “What do you plan on doing with that?”

Her eyes flashed. “I don't know, but I feel safer holding something. Have any better ideas?”

As if on cue, the high-pitched hum started up again. Rodrigo had resumed drilling. Luke crossed to the opposite door. “As a matter of fact, I do. I'll open the door the least amount as possible. I'll slip out while you stay inside. Once I get the ladder attached to the window, I'll motion for you to come out and go out the ladder first.”