Silent Run - Barbara Freethy [14]
If Jake was faking the raw, bitter pain in his voice, the agony in his eyes, he was an incredible actor. But if he was telling the truth, it sounded like she was a terrible person, cold and so cruel. Sarah didn’t know which scenario she preferred.
“I don’t understand,” she said helplessly.
“That makes two of us,” he continued. “Because when I went looking for you, I discovered that everything you’d told me about your past was a lie. I ran down your supposed relatives on the East Coast. You said your parents died when you were young, and that you’d gone to live with a grandmother in Boston, but that person didn’t exist. You told me you went to Boston College, but they never heard of you. You came into my life out of nowhere, and you vanished exactly the same way. I almost started to think I’d imagined you, made you up. I thought I was going crazy,” he said with a wave of his hand.
“You’re saying that I lied to you from the beginning?” she asked in surprise.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
She put a hand to her temple as her headache deepened in intensity. Her senses began to spin, and her legs felt so weak she sat down heavily on the edge of the bed. Jake’s face began to blur, and she twisted her fingers in the blanket and sheet so she wouldn’t fall over.
“Are you all right?” Jake put his hand on her shoulder to steady her, and then yanked it away, as if he couldn’t bear to touch her. His forehead drew into tight lines as he frowned. “Or is this another play in your game? Get me to feel sorry for you? Get me to go find the nurse or the doctor so you can leave?”
“I . . . I just need to catch my breath.”
Jake’s eyes narrowed. “You’re white as a ghost. You look like you’re going to pass out. This had better not be an act, Sarah. I can’t take any more lies from you.”
“It’s not an act,” she murmured, knowing that she couldn’t faint. She had to stay awake so she could deal with Jake, not that it wouldn’t be appealing to escape the fury in his eyes—if only for a few minutes. His anger and accusations were burning a hole right through her heart.
But some inner voice warned her not to assume that everything he said was the truth. She had to trust her own instincts. Words were just words, and Jake could have an agenda for wanting her to believe that she was a horrible person. He could be the one who was lying.
Jake pushed the call button for the nurse. “Let’s get an objective opinion.”
“I’m okay,” she said. “It’s a lot of information to take in all at once.”
“Or you’re giving yourself a minute to think up another story.”
Before she could reply, the nurse entered the room, frowning when she saw Sarah dressed in her street clothes. “Now, where do you think you’re going?” Rosie asked.
“To find my daughter,” she said, even though she couldn’t summon up the strength to get back on her feet.
“You need to rest,” the nurse said. “Come on, now; lie down.”
“I don’t want to lie down,” Sarah protested, but knew she was too weak to win this battle. Seeing the resolve in the nurse’s face, she lay back on the pillows, stretching her legs out in front of her.
“That’s better.” The nurse untied Sarah’s shoes and pulled them off. “Your body has been through a lot. You need to give yourself time to recuperate. Why don’t I get you a sleeping pill?”
“No,” she said immediately, hating the idea of losing any more control over her life. “I don’t need a pill.”
“Well, if you find the pain gets worse and you can’t sleep, call me.” The nurse glanced over at Jake. “Maybe you should let her get some rest.”
Jake frowned but reluctantly nodded. “All right, but I want