Sovereign Ground (Breaking Bonds) Read Online Free Page A

that’s what he wants. “Can police officers
date?”
    “Not in uniform.”
    I turn away to hide my smile. The sunshine man is
witty. “I should wait until this heals a little more, until I get the stitches
out.” I finger the bandage on my face.
    “Why?” The fact that he doesn’t care reminds me
how much Brody did.  
    He might not say that if he saw my stitches
though, I’m pretty hideous. “Take me where, like to a bar?” It wouldn’t be good
for a cop to learn my age—not that is matters anymore with the Wild Lily
destroyed.
    “I was thinking more like church.”
    I mimic a Lorna pose: hand on my hip, feet apart. Yuck,
how did that happen? I don’t want to be her—I drop my arms.
    “You know, to hear about the story.” He smiles and
crosses his arms. “Then maybe a mountain bike ride.”
    No wonder he’s so tan. He reads, he’s athletic…persistent.
    “Where is everyone?” Lorna calls from inside.
    “I, uh…” If Lorna comes out she’ll drill him about
where we know each other. “Sure, Officer Hayden Pruitt. In two weeks.” My
stitches will be gone then.
    “Really?”
    “Yeah.” I check to make sure Lorna hasn’t found us
yet. “But leave now.”
    He turns and leaps off the front deck. He didn’t
even take a step, just sprang up. I laugh out loud.
    “You’re pretty when you smile.”
    I smile bigger.
    “Two weeks from Sunday, nine a.m.?”
    “Sure.”
    Lorna steps out onto the deck. “Where’s he going?”
She has changed into a short black dress and teased out her hair.
    “I don’t know, I guess he had to get home.”
    I leave Lorna to watch Officer Hayden Pruitt drive
away. Her hands weave a lattice over her pudgy belly. She gnaws on her lip to
the beat of her tapping toe. A price tag hanging from her armpit swings in
accord.
    “Nice dress,” I say, as I cross the threshold.
    “I got a bonus at work.”

Chapter 4
    Jolted again from the verge of sleep, I stare at
the ceiling. Again and again, the puppy barks—a plaintive exclamation, like
he’s scared to be alone at night. I kick off the velour blanket. I doubt I
would sleep anyway, even if each yelp wasn’t perfectly spaced to allow me
enough time to drift off and then jolt me back out.
    Every time I close my eyes I see Brita asking for
help. I see past the killer’s expression, his eyes…vague, and nothing inside
him. I have watched a woman die. I couldn’t help. I have no one to tell. My
money is gone, and I have no way to get it back. If Lorna’s spending spree
really was because of a bonus and I tell her about the flute case…either way I
won’t get it back.
    I need freedom. Since I slept—tried to sleep—in flannel
lounge pants and a sweatshirt, I only need to grab my shoes. My room is back to
the way I like. I kick the pile of clean laundry a little farther away from the
dirty pile. One shoe sits upside-down by the closet. It takes a minute, but I
find the other one behind a pile of books I need to return. I carefully step
over the creaking part of the floor in front of my bedroom door. The television
is on, but the sound is muted. Thom’s eyes are glazed; he sleeps while he
watches. The lip of a bottle sits wedged in the seat of his recliner. I think I
can slip out.
    “Where…” He has to clear his throat to finish.
“…are you going?”
    “Oh, sorry, did I wake you?”
    “No.” He yawns and rubs his eyes.
    “Bummer you lost your job.” I fold my legs and sit
on my feet at the edge of the couch. Lorna has decorated this room with Navaho
pottery. One day I plan to buy a Paiute basket and tell her my brother is
Paiute; I’m Paiute and Cherokee. Lorna always makes a ridiculous deal that she
is Puerto Rican, not Mexican.
    Maybe it isn’t worth it—I do like the pottery.
    “Eh, they were jerks.” Thom repositions in his
chair. “They said I was going to make ten dollars an hour. They were always
lying. Didn’t even give me my last check.”
    All of my brother’s employers seem to lie.