Chapter 7: Broken Glass

The brick came through the window at two in the morning.

I was asleep with Eli curled against my side.

The glass burst across the floor, and Eli screamed.

I grabbed him and rolled off the mattress with my back to the window.

Another sound outside, an engine, tires spinning in the gravel.

By the time I got to the window the road was dark.

I stood in the middle of the cabin with my son in my arms.

My right hand felt wet.

I looked down.

Blood was running from my palm down my wrist and into his hair.

"Mama hurt," Eli said, and started to cry again.

"I'm fine. I'm fine, baby."

The door shook with a heavy knock.

"Hallie. It's Gage."

I opened it with my bleeding hand, and he looked at me and swore.

He came in without asking and took Eli out of my arms.

He held him against his shoulder with one big hand spread flat on the boy's back.

Eli stopped crying and stared at him.

"Sit down," Gage said.

"What are you doing here? It's two in the morning."

"I've been parked at the end of your road since midnight."

I sat down on the edge of the mattress.

"Why?"

"Because I knew he'd send someone."

He set Eli down on the bed beside me, and then he knelt on the floor and took my hand in both of his.

His hands were warm and rough, and the scar ran up his left wrist.

He turned my palm up under the lamp.

"Glass," he said. "Hold still."

He picked the pieces out one at a time with the tip of a pocketknife.

His head was bent close to mine.

I could smell soap and cold air and the leather of his jacket.

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