Damaged by Pamela Callow Read Free Book Online

his fur. A low growl rumbled through bared teeth. His ears were erect, quivering.
    She followed his intent gaze. And froze.
    A hooded figure slipped out of her yard.
    She ran across the back porch. A rotting board groaned under her weight. Alaska followed at her heels. When her stocking feet hit the steps, slick with rain and moss, she slipped and stumbled to her knees. By the time she scrambled to her feet, sanity returned. What was she doing? She shouldn’t be chasing this guy. That was a job for the police. It was too late, anyway—the intruder had disappeared.
    “Damn it.” She stood panting in her yard. The street was empty. Quiet. Dark. Rain fell, washing away any footsteps that might have revealed themselves. She wrapped her arms around her middle.
    Alaska nosed her thigh and she patted him. “Good dog.” She walked slowly around the side of her house, glad for Alaska’s presence, though she had to admit he wasn’t attack-dog material.
    She wished she had an alarm system but she wouldn’t be able to afford one for at least another year, if then. The leaky roof and even leakier kitchen pipes had taken precedence. She stepped back inside. Alaska rushed by her straight to the lasagna. Within seconds it was gone. She couldn’t eat, anyway. Fear constricted her stomach into a tiny ball.
    Ethan. He was probably at home. She could call him and he would be at her house in five minutes. The cop in him would make sure she was safe.
    Safe, but not forgiven.
    She swallowed and reached for the phone.
    The 911 operator answered on the first ring.
    “I’d like to report an intruder,” Kate said.

6
    Monday, April 30, 6:21 a.m.
    K ate watched Alaska trot across the dew-soaked grass of Point Pleasant Park. The ocean lapped its edges, funneling on one side into the Halifax Harbour, narrowing into the Northwest Arm on the other. By summer, the long blue arm of water would be dotted with dinghies, yachts and tour boats, people admiring the beautifully terraced properties of Halifax’s finest homes.
    She picked up her pace. God, it was hard today. Her body just didn’t want to do it. But she needed to. She needed to get Ethan out of her head. She had woken on Saturday with a throbbing headache. Memories of chasing the intruder and giving the police a statement were like a bad hangover fueled by her confrontation with Ethan. For the first time in months she had skipped her Saturday morning run. Her run on Sunday morning didn’t help dislodge the sluggishness in her limbs. She could barely concentrate on the TransTissue file. She had to force herself to sort through the facts and draft a memo to make John Lyons take note. The effort came with a price. Here it was, Monday morning, 6:21 a.m., and she felt completely drained.
    Knowing that she had to go to LMB in less than two hours and prove her legal mind was as good—or better—than all the other first-year associates made her resent Ethan’s unannounced visit even more. He had distracted her from the biggest file of her career. He had dragged her back to a place she had no desire to be.
    He wouldn’t let it go. He claimed he had come for answers, but she had seen his eyes. He wanted more than that. He wanted to make her pay for what had happened on New Year’s Eve.
    Her feet pounded in a punishing rhythm on the path. They had run together, their strides in sync. He loved running as much as she did. She had been used to doing it alone, letting her thoughts fly around her, but she had found herself enjoying his company. She’d think about the night before. How he’d seduced her with his reverential touch on her body. And then she’d feel the power in her body as she ran with him side by side.
    How could she take one of those fairy-tale moments with him and ruin it with the sordid details of her past? Her past was something she kept locked in a very dark, deep box. Putting voice to it made it real again.
    It had scared her. Terrified her. Admitting what she’d done to