Free Untamed: Duty Bound Book 3 by J.S. Marlo Page A

cup?”
    “He doesn’t ask for anything anymore.” She didn’t realize she’d spoken the words until Avery’s brows arched up. Thinking aloud was a bad habit she’d developed. She needed to curb it. “I didn’t mean…”
    “Hannah? Has something happened to Rory?”
    He gazed at her with a strange mixture of compassion and curiosity—a look she couldn’t resist.
    “An incident happened back in November. It was the day after our first big snowstorm of the season. Rory was so excited to go play outside in the snow. He took a small red shovel with him and climbed into the tree house while I chopped wood.”
    The ill-fated day replayed in her mind as clearly as if it’d happened hours ago. She’d lifted the axe above her head when—without warning—Rory had appeared in front of her. A few seconds later, and she might have hurt him, but she never took the swing. The axe had slipped from her hands and grazed her back before landing in the snow somewhere behind her.
    “Rory knows to stay away from me when I hold an axe, hammer, or rifle. If he needs me, he throws something in front of me so I know he’s there. That day, he didn’t warn me. He just walked up to me, shivering like a leaf in a storm. His was face whiter than snow and his bare hands colder than ice. He was…he was petrified, Avery. Snowflake was by his side, her tail between her legs. I picked him up, and as I walked to the house, I saw blood and snowmobile tracks in the fresh snow near the tree house. Someone had come, and the only thing I could think of was that he had hurt my son. I called Freddy, the doctor in town. He came right away.” Her foster brother had rushed to her rescue, and though he wasn’t a vet, he’d examined both Rory and Snowflake. “Freddy didn’t find any physical sign of assault, but Rory hasn’t spoken or played near the tree house since.”
    Avery nodded slowly as if the motion helped him absorb the details. “Did you mention the incident with Rory when you reported the first threatening note?”
    “No, I—” Her son lost his voice on November 19 th . She didn’t receive the first note until Dec 4 th . “Two weeks had elapsed, Avery. It never occurred to me there might be a connection between the two incidents.”
    Back when she investigated the tragic life stories of the young girls she’d sworn to rescue, she had a knack for seeing things other people missed.
    Angry and frustrated, Hannah stared at the contents of her mug. The rich dark brew offered neither wisdom nor consolation. How could she have been so blind to her own situation?
    A pat on her forearm startled her, and she recoiled in her chair.
    “Sorry, but you were far away. I didn’t have a snowball to get your attention.”
    His touch had been nothing but gentle. To see him retract his hand brought a pang of regret. “Reminiscing. That’s all.”
    “Hannah, I need to ask you about your grandfather Pike.” He glanced over his shoulder toward the couch, and then leaned forward, as if he were afraid Rory might overhear. “What happened the day he was murdered? It’s very important.”
    “Why?” That day was etched into her memory as a turning point in her life—a life that had become too wild to tame. “That was five years ago.”
    “I know, but you have to trust me. Please?”
    She didn’t know if she could still trust, but the consideration he showed toward small details made her inclined to give him a chance. “You know he’s not my real grandfather, don’t you?”
    A gentle smile swept over his roguishly handsome face. “From what I heard, he raised you, and he raised you well. In my book, that makes him your grandfather.”
    “Gramp was sick with liver cancer, and he didn’t have much time left on this earth. The week after I moved in, he went snowshoeing in the woods. Alone. It was a beautiful February afternoon. When he didn’t come back, I searched for him. I thought I’d find him lying in the snow, staring into eternity