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Her Mistletoe Protector. Laura ScottЧитать онлайн книгу.

Her Mistletoe Protector - Laura Scott


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      They arrived at the superstore and quickly made their way over to the electronics section. She stayed back as Nick purchased the phone, along with a car charger, explaining to the clerk how they wanted to keep the same number.

      “We can do that,” the clerk said. “But it can sometimes take up to twelve hours to get the number transferred over.”

      “Twelve hours?” she echoed in shock.

      The clerk shrugged. “It might be quicker, but I can’t say for sure when.”

      Nick’s expression was grim but he purchased the new phone and car charger, paying for a full year so that there wasn’t any way to trace the contract fee. He gave her the phone and she stared down at it.

      Twelve hours. She had to hang on to her old phone and evade the kidnappers for the next twelve hours.

      And they were no closer to finding Joey.

      She wanted to scream in frustration but forced herself to take several deep breaths to fight off her rising panic instead. She had to believe the kidnappers would keep Joey alive in order to get the payout. They had to.

      She followed Nick to the car. When he started the car and pulled out of the parking lot, back onto the road, she plugged the new phone into the charger and then glanced at him. “Where are we going?”

      He shrugged. “I think it’s better to stay in the car and keep moving for now. We’d only be sitting ducks in a motel.”

      She couldn’t argue his logic. “Would you be willing to split up so one of us could go and check out Margie’s house? I need to know for sure Joey’s not in there.”

      Nick was silent for so long she thought he was ignoring her. “Rachel, you’re not a cop...so no, I’m not willing to split up. Let’s just worry about staying alive tonight, okay? Unless you’re having second thoughts about going to the FBI?”

      She shivered. “No, I’m not having second thoughts. I heard what you told your boss about dirty cops at the local and federal level. I can’t risk losing my son, Nick. I just can’t.”

      He sighed. “I know what I said, but I can’t help wondering if God isn’t trying to tell us something the way these obstacles keep getting thrown in our way.”

      She was a little uncomfortable by his reference to God, but just the thought of calling in the police made her sick. “Your boss is willing to give us some time, so why are you still pushing the authorities on me?” When he opened his mouth to protest, she held up her hand. “I trust you, Nick, and I don’t have much choice but to trust your boss, too. But I can’t take the chance of trusting the wrong person. It could end up costing my little boy his life.”

      Truthfully, it was hard enough to trust Nick. But the fact that he’d been so angry with her for not giving him details about Anthony’s involvement with the Mafia a year ago had gone a long way in convincing her that he was one of the good guys.

      However, that didn’t mean she wanted to open the circle of trust to include anyone else. Not unless there was no other choice.

      Nick pulled into a mall parking lot, and she wasn’t surprised when he positioned the car in a way that they’d be able to escape in a hurry if need be. She shivered a little, burying her face in the collar of the dark sweatshirt beneath her jacket. Her jean-clad legs were cold, and she rubbed her hands on her thighs to try and warm up.

      “I have a blanket in the trunk,” Nick said gruffly, before sliding out of the driver’s seat. He returned a few minutes later with a wool blanket. “Why don’t you stretch out in the backseat?”

      “I won’t be able to sleep,” she protested. “Besides, we should take turns keeping watch.”

      “I’ll keep watch first while you try to get some rest.” His tone indicated there was no point in arguing.

      Resigned, she opened the passenger door, pausing for a moment as she realized there was a bullet hole near the bottom of the window. The reminder of being used for target practice made her shiver again. Clutching the blanket, she climbed into the backseat and huddled down, grateful for the added warmth from Nick’s blanket. She vowed to give him the blanket when it was her turn to keep watch.

      The backseat was hardly comfortable, but that wasn’t the reason she couldn’t sleep. Images of Joey kept flashing through her mind, haunting her to the point where she almost couldn’t stand it another moment.

      “Nick?” she said softly, breaking the silence. “You don’t think the kidnappers will hurt Joey, do you?”

      “Try not to torture yourself thinking the worst, Rachel.”

      “I’m not trying to torture myself, but every time I close my eyes I picture that man grabbing Joey and slinging him over his shoulder. Don’t you see? I’m the one who told Joey to get out of the car and run. It’s my fault he was kidnapped.”

      There was a long pause, then Nick said, “Rachel, it’s not your fault. I’m sure he would have gotten Joey even if you hadn’t told him to run.”

      “Stop trying to placate me,” she said sharply.

      There was another brief silence. “Look, Rachel, I don’t know if you believe in God, but if you do, praying can help you get through this.”

      She remembered how Nick had prayed before eating their fast-food dinner. Maybe he believed but she wasn’t sure she did. “My parents weren’t very religious. When I was growing up the only time we went to church was at Christmas and Easter.” She hadn’t thought about church or God in a long time. “I’m not sure I believe there really is a God, or that He cares anything about me or Joey.”

      “There is.” Nick’s voice exuded confidence. “And He does care about you and Joey. If you keep an open mind and an open heart, you’ll be rewarded.”

      “Rewarded?” She couldn’t hide the sarcasm in her tone. “I hardly think having my son kidnapped is anything close to rewarding.”

      “You’re twisting my words, Rachel,” he said quietly. “I meant that God can help you through difficult times.”

      “There’s nothing more difficult than having your child in danger.” She fought the rising anger. Who was he to preach to her at a time like this? Her son was missing and he wanted her to pray?

      “I do know a little about what you’re going through, Rachel. Two years ago, I lost my wife and my daughter in a terrible car crash. I nearly went crazy during the hours they were missing, before they were found dead in the bottom of a ravine. And trust me, I wouldn’t have made it through those dark days without God’s strength and the power of prayer.”

      His blunt statement surprised her and caused her to feel ashamed. Why was she taking her anger out on Nick? None of this was his fault. Clearly, he knew what it was like to lose someone he loved. Losing his wife and a daughter had to have been horrible. But prayer? She wasn’t sure she was buying that idea.

      She couldn’t remember the last time she’d prayed, if ever. And she wasn’t sure that prayer alone would make her feel better about losing her son.

      She wouldn’t survive if Joey died. Everything inside her would die right along with him.

      “I’ve been praying for Joey’s safety,” Nick went on in a low voice. “And I want you to know, I’ll keep on praying for Joey and for you.”

      Tears pricked her eyes and her throat swelled, making it hard to speak. Knowing that he would pray for her son brought a surprising level of comfort. And she suddenly realized that he was right. She did need to keep an open mind. Because if Nick’s prayers could really help, she would gladly take them. She would take anything she could get if it meant keeping Joey safe.

      She cleared her throat, trying to hide the evidence of her tears. “Thank you, Nick. And I’m sorry I snapped at you. I didn’t know you lost your wife and daughter.


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