Page 3 of One Merciful Moment

Boone motioned toward the chair. "Sit and drink more water. You'll think clearer in a minute."

She stepped away from the chair. "I'm not staying here."

Arguing wasn't working. He wasn't listening. The longer she stayed in this house, the more wrong everything felt.

She turned toward the door.

Boone moved too.

Before she could reach the handle, his hand came down on the wood, stopping her. His other arm braced against the wall near her shoulder. She froze.

"Don't," he said quietly. "You're not leaving yet."

Her back hit the wall. Boone pressed in, close enough that she couldn't slip past him. Panic coiled in her chest.

"Let me out," she said, her voice shaking.

Boone's scruffy jaw tightened.

Fear overtook her. She screamed, unable to hold it in.

Boone flinched. His expression stayed the same, like he'd expected her to yell.

She sucked in a breath and pressed harder against the wall. Boone's arm still blocked the door. He wasn't touching her, but he formed a barrier she couldn't break.

"I need to leave," she whispered. "Please."

Her pulse hammered. Why had she let him bring her here? Where was her truck? Where was she?

She opened her mouth to scream again when a heavy thud vibrated through the wood and into her spine. She stared at Boone. Her heart pounded so hard she felt it in her fingertips.

Would he let her go? Or pretend no one was there?

Knowing she couldn't hesitate, she screamed again. Boone grabbed her arm, yanking her away from the door and cutting off her cry for help.

He opened it.

An older man stood on the porch. Tall. Weathered. Broad-shouldered. Dominating the doorway.

His gaze flicked from Boone to her, taking in the way Boone held her tight against his side.

"Let the woman go," he said.

Boone's fingers tightened once, then slowly loosened. Hope flickered through her. Someone else had come. Someone else had seen.

The man stepped inside without waiting. The door brushed Ashley's arm as Boone let go. She staggered, moving away from him.

The stranger ignored her completely. His attention locked on Boone.

"There weren't any storms," he muttered, pacing a slow line across the small room. "No wind. No darkness."

Storms? She stared at him, trying to make sense of the words, but neither man seemed interested in explaining anything.

She edged toward the doorway, moving quietly, hoping they were too wrapped up in whatever they were discussing to notice. She'd already wasted too much time.

One step from the door, Boone's hand closed around her forearm again, pulling her back before she could slip past him.

"Let me go." She jerked her arm, but she couldn't break his grip.