Free Trust in Me by Kathryn Shay

if to protect her. One of the side effects of what Joe had done to her was her best friends’ guilt for not realizing Annie was being battered. Linc’s was the worst. Though Annie had assured them she’d purposely kept it to herself, ashamed and afraid to let on what was happening—God, it had been such a cliché—her three best friends suffered over their ignorance.
    Joe faced her, his jaw hard, his features taut; but his gray eyes burned with intensity. “I have a daughter?” His voice had cracked on the word.
    “Yes.” Annie crossed her arms over her stomach in remembered pain. “No thanks to you.”
    A muscle leapt in his throat. “Is she...is she all right?”
    Annie knew what he was asking. A swift kick in the stomach during pregnancy could cause brain damage. Luckily, the blow had landed on the top of her thighs, not where he’d aimed; still, the hospital had been concerned about a miscarriage because she’d fallen. “She’s fine. A lot smarter than you or I ever will be.”
    Which was a lie. Long ago, Annie had figured out that one of Joe’s issues was his frustration over his intellect. No one else had known he was so smart, no one had encouraged him, and he’d seethed with a severely stifled brain. To top it off, all his adult life he’d worked a rote, mindless job at the local electronics parts plant.
    His eyes closed briefly when she told him Faith was mentally and physically fine. In gratitude? She guessed it probably was, but Annie wasn’t about to feel sorry for him.
    “Does she dance? Like you used to?”
    Annie only nodded. In truth, when she danced, Faith floated through the air as graceful as gently moving clouds, and had that indefinable quality that made the difference between a dance student and a potential pro. Annie herself had had it, too. Joe, of course, had been jealous of her dancing and had wanted her to quit. But by the time she reached high school, she was teaching dance and earning money, which she needed to live, so he let her do it. After they married, it was a necessary source of income.
    “What do you want, Joe?” Linc asked.
    “I want to see my son...and my daughter.”
    Linc zeroed in on him with his minister look. “Why now?”
    Joe straightened to his full height, and Annie had to keep herself from flinching at those big hands and muscular arms that could inflict so much pain. “Because I’m better now. I’m not the man I was six years ago.” He scanned the two of them, then focused on Annie. “I know I’m recovered, and it’s safe for me to see my kids.”
    “ I don’t know that.” Annie’s voice was hard and cold.
    “Yes, well that’s why I’m moving back. To prove it to you.”
    “You’re dreaming, pal, if you think I’ll let you near Annie or the kids alone.”
    The corners of Joe’s mouth turned up just a bit, despite the gravity of the situation. Every once in a while, the street kid peeked out of the minister, and showed that Linc was still as tough as nails. “I have legal rights, Linc.” He turned to Annie. “But I don’t want to go that route. I’m willing to do this informally, if we can.” He opened his briefcase, fished out a manila envelope and handed it to Linc.
    With a frown Linc took the folder.
    “Here’s some documentation that might help. Papers verifying completion of a year-long court-sanctioned recovery program, and evaluations by the counselors. Transcripts from the educational institutions I attended. Reports from the support groups I run.” He shifted from one foot to the other, as if the subject made him nervous. “And there are phone numbers to call to check the facts, if you don’t believe me.” He stared at the file, then at Linc. “I thought maybe you could manage this whole thing.”
    “Me?”
    “Uh-huh.” Joe raked a hand through his hair. “Look, I know this is a shock, but as I said, I was afraid to do it any other way. Afraid you’d try to keep me from them.”
    Annie frowned. “I’ve never