She and Travis and Cammie had abandoned it, knowing they had no money or means to repair it, and they’d walked. It was how they’d come to stay in Dover. Necessity. Not choice.
With the last of their available cash, Eve had rented the trailer and paid the necessary deposits to have the utilities turned on.
Until she was able to work and stock up enough money to fund their escape to the next place, they were solidly stuck here.
She rushed to the couch, galvanized into action by the sound of a closing door. She curled her arms underneath Cammie and flew into the bedroom. Cammie stirred, a sleepy protest forming on her lips.
“Shhhh, Cammie,” Eve soothed. “Be very quiet, darling. Someone’s here.”
Cammie went instantly still, rigid in Eve’s arms. Eve damned the fact that Cammie was well acquainted with the need to hide. To be quiet. On constant alert.
“Crawl under the bed,” Eve whispered, setting her on the floor even as she issued the command. “Don’t come out, Cammie. No matter what you may hear. You stay here and hide. Don’t make a single sound. Promise me.”
“I promise,” Cammie whispered back.
Eve all but pushed the small child under the double bed and then arranged the faded, worn bed skirt to hide the evidence that someone was hiding underneath. If anything happened to Eve—if Walt had found her—perhaps she could convince them that Travis and Cammie weren’t with her. That she’d left them somewhere else. Separating them so that if Eve was arrested, or worse, discovered by Walt himself, maybe, just maybe, Cammie would remain hidden and undiscovered until Travis arrived.
A knock sounded in the distance and Eve’s heart pounded harder. She whispered an urgent prayer as she shakily rose from her perch. Please, please don’t let it be the police. Or worse, Walt. It was a testament to just how much she feared her stepfather that she’d actually prefer to be confronted by the police than by Walt himself.
For a moment she considered ignoring the knock. There wasn’t a vehicle parked outside to indicate anyone was at home. She knew no one here. It was certainly in the realm of possibility given the time of day that one could assume whoever lived here was at work.
Unless they knew better. Unless they knew very well she was here. That this was where she’d fled and hid even now.
Another knock sounded. Harder this time. A knock that told her whoever it was wasn’t going away.
Bracing her shoulders, determined not to let anyone see her fear, she walked slowly to the door. There wasn’t a window in the door. She was fortunate to have a door at all with the condition of the rest of the trailer. No way to see who was on the other side without revealing herself by looking out the small window in the living room.
But she peeked anyway, wanting to know at least what she was up against. If there were police cars outside.
Frowning, she took in the same truck that had been there just the day before. Donovan Kelly. He’d come with Rusty Kelly, the young woman who’d hired Travis. What could he want?
Feeling only a margin of relief, she went to the door and cracked it cautiously, even though it was ridiculous, because if the man wanted in, there was little she could do about it. Even she could break through this door.
“Eve?”
Donovan’s soft inquiry slid over her ears, pricking her nape. Her pulse sped up as she met his gaze.
“It’s Donovan Kelly. We met yesterday,” he said unnecessarily.
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She was still dealing with the overwhelming fear she’d experienced when she’d heard the vehicle drive up. She breathed deeply through her nostrils, willing her pulse to slow from its rapid thudding at her temples. It wouldn’t surprise her if he were able to see her heart beat against her thin T-shirt.
“Can I come in?”
She gripped the door harder and stared at him, taking in the plastic grocery bags dangling from both hands.
“Why are you here?” she finally managed to get out. “It’s not a good time.”
“I brought some things that you, Cammie and Travis needed,” he said, dipping his head toward the stuffed bags.
She stared in bewilderment at him, unsettled by the unexpected visit, but more so by the determination she saw in his eyes.
“Eve, I’m here to help you,” he said gently. “Let me in so I can unload the groceries.”
It was voiced quietly enough, but there was a definite thread of command in his tone. Her grip eased on the door, and then she remembered Cammie. Hiding under the bed in the other room. How would it look if Donovan saw?
“Cammie’s sleeping,” she blurted. “I don’t want to disturb her.”
Donovan nodded even as he pushed forward, giving her no choice but to let go of the door. As he walked in, his gaze went to the couch where Cammie had been resting just moments earlier. The fan was still humming and panic scuttled up Eve’s spine.
“She must have gone to the bathroom. I’ll just go check on her while you . . .” She broke off, gesturing toward the bags he held.
“Take your time,” Donovan said in an easy voice. “I can make my way around your kitchen just fine.”
Eve bolted toward the bedroom, shutting the door firmly behind her. Just in case he had any crazy ideas of following her. She hurried to the bed and knelt, lifting the tattered bed skirt to peer underneath.
“Cammie,” she called softly. “Come out, darling. I need you to hurry.”
Cammie immediately scrambled toward Eve, and Eve enfolded her in her arms, picking her up to hurry in the direction of the bathroom so that at least if Donovan did barge in, it would appear as though Cammie had indeed just gone to the bathroom.