I Will Not Run by Elizabeth Preston Read Free Book Online Page A

how hard the job ahead of you is? I’m not sure how much my husband has told you, but I really , really hate guns. I don’t trust them. Guns have a will of their own.”
    I know I sounded nuts but what could I do? Dom was going to find out soon enough that, where guns were concerned, I really was a little crazy. “Actually,” I said, knowing I hadn’t painted a bleak enough picture yet, “I get all shaky just saying the G-word.”
    He nodded, dismissing my fuss with a shrug. For a freakish moment there I thought he was going to say, So what’s new? You never liked guns, I know that.
    He said nothing about the past though. Instead, he watched me bite my lip and when I raised my gaze to meet his, he ever-so-subtly winked. I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. Instead I gave him another of my warning flashes. I gestured towards our bedroom and pointed at my ear, hoping he’d get the drift.
    I think he must have realised how worried I was because he abruptly changed his tone. “Your husband did warn me,” he said, becoming a stranger again.
    Then, in his best psychiatrist’s voice, he tried reassurance. “It’s alright, Winter. We’re going to take this slowly, gradual exposure and all that. You’ll see. We’ll have you popping off shots before you know it.”
    No we won’t. I didn’t say those words out loud, though. These days I wince at the mere mention of guns. I look away if a gun comes on TV, which means I have to look away often and when I hear the sound of gun fire, my face glosses with sweat.
    I handed him his coffee, cradled mine, and together we sauntered outside. Actually what really happened was this: I snatched my cup from under the spout, splashed hot coffee on my jeans then dribbled some on the floor boards too, pretended I couldn’t feel the heat burn against my leg, ignored the mess on the floor, and even walked through it on my way to the door. It was the weirdest feeling. I wanted to be with him and equally I didn’t want to be any where near him.
    Dom followed me outside, cool and collected. Nothing dented his demeanour.
    I didn’t need to look back at my bedroom window, back to the wavering curtains to know that Bruno was in the corner of our room peeping out. My husband is molten lava. You don’t always see or hear him coming but he’s there, slowly moving forward.
    When we were far enough away, I figured it was time he heard again just how careful we needed to be. “Bruno is so jealous. I can’t believe he brought you here.”
    Dom looked away, and I’m sure he raised his eyes, losing patience with my nerves. “Why shouldn’t he bring me here? He doesn’t know about our past. He knows nothing.”
    “You’re right. He knows nothing,” I repeated, trying to convince myself. “But it’s just not like Bruno to let a strange man near me, certainly not one that looks like you.” I turned away, wishing I’d put that better. I had to stay facing away, head down to hide my flushed cheeks.
    He moved closer and whispered, “Did you just call me handsome?”
    “Course not,” I snapped, knowing I had.
    We stood together yet far apart. The parrots in the trees were the only ones talking to each other. When at last he did speak, I wished he hadn’t. “You’re certainly afraid of him, aren’t you?”
    I shot Dom a daggers stare. I would have liked to blurt out, I am not! But Dom would see straight through that and know I was lying. Cripes, anyone could see I was scared. He was looking straight at my smashed-up cheek, and that also annoyed me.
    I changed direction. “You should be afraid of him too.”
    Dom waved his arm in the air, an overconfident gesture that brushed all mention of Bruno aside. “Don’t worry, I can handle him. I’ve met worse.”
    Really? Was that possible? Was there someone worse?
    “If he hits you again, you’ll tell me, won’t you? I mean it, Winter.”
    I lifted my eyes so that they were level with his. “You can’t take Bruno on. Stop