Free Don't Look Back by Christine Kersey Page B

cupboard to take out a pan or a casserole dish or a utensil and finding the cupboard bare. I smiled as I imagined him yanking open all the cupboards and drawers and finding them empty. He would kick himself for leaving to meet me. He would probably change the locks now too.
    True to his word, Marcus came over first thing the next morning, tools in hand. I led him up to the baby’s room, Greta on my heels, and he got right to work on the crib. I wasn’t sure if he expected me to keep him company, but I felt I should since he had taken the time to come over and help me out.
    Since there was no furniture in the room, I sat on the floor and leaned against the wall. Greta pressed herself against me. I had made sure to close the closet door before Marcus came over; I didn’t want him, or anyone, to know about the secret room. If they did, it would no longer be a secret, and therefore useless to me.
    After working in silence for about ten minutes, Marcus glanced at me and asked when I was due.
    “Just before Christmas,” I said.
    “I can’t even tell you’re pregnant,” he said as he attached two pieces of wood together.
    For some reason I felt defensive, like he thought I was making it up. “Well, I am.”
    He stopped what he was doing and looked at me. “I didn’t say you weren’t. I just meant . . .” He paused and looked back at what he was doing, then said quietly, “You look really good.”
    I smiled, feeling foolish for my attitude. “Thanks.”
    “So, where are you from?”
    I almost said Lovelock, but then remembered I’d told his mother I was from Las Vegas. If I’m going to lie, I thought, I’d better keep track of what I tell who. “Vegas.”
    He glanced at me again. “What brings you here?”
    Crap, I thought. I’d forgotten to work out a story and would have to make it up on the fly. I knew I needed to keep it simple so I could remember what I’d said. I also thought it would help if I tried to keep it as close to the truth as possible. “Well, my father passed away recently and I felt like I needed a change of scenery, so I packed up and started driving and ended up here.” That was actually all true, I thought, proud I’d been able to avoid lying.
    “That’s cool.” He worked for a few more minutes then stopped and looked my way. “Just tell me to mind my own business if you want to, but my mom said Mary told her something about you being a widow.”
    So much for telling the truth. I nodded and tried to look sad. It was difficult as I had just spoken to my “late husband” the day before. In fact, as I again imagined Trevor’s reaction when he’d discovered I’d cleaned out his kitchen I had to bite my lip to keep from smiling.
    “I’m sorry,” Marcus said as he turned back to his task.
    “It’s okay,” I assured him, a little too brightly.
    “It is?” He looked at me, a surprised expression on his face.
    Trying to figure out how to cover my lack of grief, I silently berated myself for not thinking before speaking. I would have to improve that habit. Thinking quickly I said, “What I meant was, even though it was sad when he died, we had been having some trouble for a while and he had recently left me for another woman.” That was sort of true.
    “Oh. Well excuse me for saying so, but he must have been crazy to cheat on you.”
    I felt myself blush. “Thanks,” I murmured.
    A short time later he had the crib put together and he wheeled it against the wall.
    “That looks great!”I said. “Thank you so much.”
    “No problem, Kate.”
    Just then there was a knock at the door and I felt the blood drain from my face. Greta started barking and took off down the stairs. Marcus was watching me.
    “Are you okay?” he asked, clearly concerned.
    I hardly heard him as I pictured Trevor waiting on my front porch, fury in his eyes.
    The knock sounded again, louder this time.
    “Do you want me to get that?” Marcus asked.
    Visualizing Trevor’s fury turning into outright