Flood Zone. Dana Mentink

Flood Zone - Dana Mentink


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down if you touch me again.”

      He chuckled. “You came here after hours, almost as if you were looking for me.”

      The implication was clear. Who do you think they’ll believe?

      She gripped the keys, palms clammy, readying herself to gouge and bite and kick. Unsure.

      “You’re not seeing things clearly, Mia. You don’t know what’s right and wrong anymore, do you?” The words were almost a whisper, his mouth curved in a soft smile. “You need help.”

      Help? Was that what he offered? Her gut told her to run. Should she trust that instinct?

      From somewhere far away, she heard herself say, “I want to go. Now.”

      “Maybe you don’t know what you want,” he said, eyes glittering.

      “Yes, she does,” said a low voice. The doctor was jerked back and dumped in an unceremonious pile on the floor. Dallas Black looked down at Elias, his dark eyes blending with the shadows.

      She realized Dallas must have been expecting her to act stupidly and visit the clinic and her cheeks burned, but relief overrode any other sensation.

      “I was just fired,” Mia announced. “And now I’m going to leave.”

      Dallas didn’t move. “Good. Doesn’t pay to work for dirtbags.”

      “Trespassing and assault,” Dr. Elias snapped at Dallas, scrambling to his feet. “I will have you arrested.”

      Dallas ignored the comment completely. “Ready to go?” he said to her.

      “Get off my property,” Dr. Elias snarled. Gone was the genial smile, any vestiges of warmth, fire blazed in his eyes.

      Mia gripped her bag and walked to the door on shaky legs, grateful to have Dallas looking over her shoulder at the doctor. She was desperate to end the situation. Dallas had a complete disregard for rules and she wanted to finish the whole confrontation before anything worse happened.

      “You are turning away from someone who wants to help you, Mia,” Dr. Elias said, nostrils flared. “And look what you’re walking into.”

      “Goodbye, Dr. Elias,” Mia said.

      “Don’t forget your flowers,” he yelled.

      “Keep them,” she said.

      * * *

      Dallas’s truck was parked at the curb, and Juno sat next to it. When he saw her his tail went into overtime, and he whined until she gave him a cursory pat. He licked her face.

      “If a man approached my ride, Juno would bark up a storm, but with you he’d hand over the keys,” Dallas said. Smart dog.

      Juno was once an aggressive shelter resident after having been beaten and starved by a cruel owner. Dallas had spent six months tracking down that negligent owner on his own dime, until the man was charged with animal cruelty and subjected to hefty fines. It wasn’t enough in Dallas’s view.

      Mia straightened in spite of Juno’s disappointment and gave him a tight smile. “He must know I’m a cat person and he’s trying to help me see the light.” She paused. “I would have handled the situation, you know. No one will keep me from Gracie.”

      “No doubt. I’m just glad I was in the neighborhood.” In truth he’d been driving around town, too restless to stay home, checking the clinic lot every so often in case Mia showed up like he suspected she’d do. “I’m not sure...” She bit her lip. “I don’t know if Dr. Elias was going to hurt me. He said he wanted to help.”

      Help? That wasn’t what Dallas had heard in the good doctor’s tone when he put his hands on Mia. “What did your gut tell you?”

      “To leave.”

      “Then you did the right thing.” Dallas clamped down on the anger that ticked at his insides. His own instincts told him Dr. Elias was interested in much more than Mia’s well-being. He despised the thought of Elias being anywhere near Mia. Or touching her. Or looking in her general direction.

      Overprotective, Black.

      Overprotective? How could that be when she kept him at arm’s length and he wasn’t interested in a relationship anyway? Whatever the reason, something about her, her strength perhaps, stayed in his mind like a lingering fragrance.

      It made him pretty sure that if she knew the real reason he’d come to Spanish Canyon, to protect her without her consent, she’d let him have it with both barrels, but the roses on her desk indicated there was ample cause for him to keep an eye on her.

      He’d met Mia at the wedding of her sister, Antonia, to Hector’s brother Reuben Sandoval after the two barely survived a hurricane. Oddly, he’d befriended Antonia three years prior in the wake of a massive earthquake that struck San Francisco where he assisted his brother, Trey, in rescuing Antonia and Sage Harrington, now Trey’s wife. At least Antonia and Trey had both found love matches in the midst of disaster. A memory from that wedding stayed sharp in his mind. Mia’s face torn with sorrow, or was it guilt, cradling Gracie in her arms. Hemingway said people healed stronger where they were broken. Mia, though she didn’t ever discuss her past, was like that, he figured. Sometimes it takes more strength to ask for help than to go it alone, Mia.

      He snapped out of his reverie when she sighed heavily. “Go ahead and say it. I was dumb to come here, after hours, in light of all that’s happened.”

      He considered. “Yeah.”

      “I have good reasons for doing things my own way.”

      “Don’t we all.” He tried to catch her eye, but she avoided his gaze. “You okay?”

      “Yes.”

      “Sure?”

      “I’m perfectly fine,” she said with a little too much bravado. He caught the tremble of her lips in spite of the dim light. It made his stomach tighten.

      “I’ll follow you home again.”

      “I’m fine. There’s no reason.”

      “It’s dark, weather’s bad and you were harassed. That’s three reasons.” He opened the door for her.

      She rolled her eyes and started to get into the car when the bag slipped from her hands. She snatched it up but not before Cora’s Italian book plopped out. It fell open, and she saw something stuck inside. Picking it up hastily, she said, “What’s this?”

      From between the pages she pulled out a four-by-six photo, and Dallas shone his penlight on it.

      “We’ve seen this woman before,” she said grimly.

      Dallas felt a stir of foreboding flow through his belly. “Running away from Cora’s burning house.”

      THREE

      Sleep eluded Mia. Though she felt like throwing herself on the floor and sobbing at the loss of her dear friend, she would not allow Gracie to witness such an outburst. The best thing she could offer now was a heavy dose of mothering in between scouring the want ads and internet sites for employment opportunities. A breakfast of scrambled eggs, toast cut into a heart shape, and a half dozen stories later, and Gracie was content to go into the soggy backyard and hunt for snails. Unless the snails had teeny scuba suits, Mia didn’t think she’d have much luck.

      She sat on the couch and considered the facts.

      The little house they now occupied was rented. Cora had helped her find the place, and though she received a settlement when she divorced Hector, she steadfastly refused to take any child-support money. Dr. Elias was right. Hector Sandoval was involved in the drug trade, and she did not want a single penny of tainted money to find its way to Gracie.

      Hector claimed in every letter that he’d repented, but she did not believe him or any other man for that matter.


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