Free Out of the Shadows (Tangled Ivy #3) by Tiffany Snow Page B

emanating so much weed aroma, I could hardly stand it. I pulled it on and, as I’d hoped, it concealed the lump.
    Panic made my hands shaky and it took longer to accomplish all this than I’d hoped. Taking a deep breath, I headed for the trailers.
    The steps creaked underneath my feet as I climbed them, then I banged on the screen door. The front door was open, and I could hear a television playing loudly in another room.
    At my knock, footsteps hurried toward me, bare feet slapping against the worn linoleum.
    A woman came into view, a baby clad in only a sagging diaper on her hip. She wore a pair of stretched-out gray sweatpants and a T-shirt so worn the emblem on the front was nearly invisible. She looked me over in one quick pass, not opening the screen.
    “Who’re you?” she demanded. The baby was fussing and stuck a fist into her mouth. She looked maybe eight or nine months old.
    “Um, I’m Mackenzie,” I said. “Mac for short.”
    “Whaddya want?” Her accent was thick hillbilly, which is different from redneck. Most people think they’re one and the same, but they’re not. Regardless of her accent, her second question was no less rude than her first.
    “My car broke down,” I said, echoing a trace of her accent as I waved vaguely toward the road. “Was hoping I could use your phone.”
    “We don’t have one,” she said curtly. “Sorry. You can keep walking. I think there’s a house up yonder. They’s got a phone.” She stepped back like she was going to shut the door.
    “Wait.” I held up a hand and she paused. “I’m real tired,” I said, improvising on the spot. “Been driving all night. Do you think I can crash here for just a bit, then I’ll walk up later on?”
    Her gaze narrowed suspiciously and she studied me. I looked as innocent and tired as I knew how and finally, she gave a reluctant nod.
    “Alrighty then,” she said. “C’mon in. But this is only for a bit, ya understand? Ah got things ta do.”
    “Yeah, no problem at all. Thanks.”
    She pushed open the screen door and I grabbed it as she turned away. Before going inside, I glanced at the woods where the men had disappeared with Devon. They hadn’t returned.
    Inside, the television was blasting Spongebob and a little boy about four years old lay on the floor in front of it, asleep. The kitchen had piles of dirty dishes in the sink and a pot of something brewing on the stove.
    I followed the woman and she led me to a blue sofa with sagging cushions. With her free hand, she grabbed a pile of unfolded clothes lying across the seats and shoved it to one end. A black dog of indeterminate breeding with a limp came up to me and nuzzled my hand as I stood there.
    “Ya can rest here,” she said, once she’d cleared a spot. “I’m Liza, if’n ya need anythin’.”
    “I’m sure I’ll be fine.” I patted the dog, who’d begun to whine softly as it looked at me. That’s when I noticed the milky eyes and realized the dog had to be blind.
    Liza paused, her face betraying surprise as she looked from the dog to me and back.
    “What’s wrong?” I asked.
    “This here is old Maisie,” she said. “She been around for almost twenty years. Blind as a bat, but she knows when folks is sick. Real sick.” Liza’s expression turned sympathetic as she looked at me. “I reckon you do need your rest if you’se sick. Take your time, honey. I’ll be in the back trying to git this one ta sleep if ya need me.”
    I was at a loss as to what to say other than, “Thanks.” I sat cautiously and watched as she headed down the narrow hallway to the back of the trailer. Maisie lay down at my feet, her unseeing eyes still fixed on me, a low whine coming intermittently from her throat. It was odd behavior from a dog, and likely some old wives’ tale, but still unnerving.
    The woman and her kids were sitting ducks for me to use as hostages, and for a split second, I thought about it. It wouldn’t be hard to do. But then I thought of