Read Online Blind Trust by Terri Blackstock - Free Book Online

of the younger brother he’d had who had died after a long hospitalized illness, and the way he had never been able to forget the loneliness and boredom that had laced those last few months for the little boy. He’d never gotten over the need to find that younger brother in someone and offer the comfort and sunshine his own brother hadn’t been able to accept. So he tried to brighten the lives of the children confined during the holidays, as he brightened the daily lives of the youth who depended on him. She wondered now if he had remembered that ritual last Christmas-the one she’d suffered through alone—or if he’d been too caught up in his new troubles to think of anyone but himself. Was that man still there beneath the harsh, cold shell of the criminal with the gun strapped to his leg and the eight months of mystery in his eyes? Or was this all that remained?
    Madeline nudged her out of her miserable reverie, and gestured toward Clint with a nod of her head. “What did he do? Why are we running?” she asked in the quietest whisper.
    Sherry gave a helpless shrug. “I wish I knew,” she sighed.
    “If we just knew what we were up against …” Madeline’s words trailed off as Clint opened his eyes. He stared at Sherry for a moment. Then he moved toward them, and sat before Sherry with his hands clasped between his bent knees.
    “Sherry, I know you’re afraid,” he said in a soft voice that was barely audible over the road noise. “I’m afraid, too. But I want you to trust me.”
    “Famous last words,” Sherry muttered. “Kidnapping me or my roommate is not the best way to win my trust, Clint.” Clint frowned. “Sherry, whether you can believe it or not, I’m doing this because I love you.”
    Something in his eyes when he uttered the words tugged at Sherry’s heart, silencing her comeback, but Madeline was unaffected. “Give me a break,” she moaned.
    “Just tell me what you did, Clint.” Sherry pleaded. “Make me understand what’s going on here to make you kidnap us.”
    Clint kneaded his eyes, leaving them red. “Not yet. There’s no telling what could happen before we get out of town. It’s best if you don’t know.”
    Sherry closed her eyes.
    “Trust him,” Madeline said sarcastically.
    “The bottom line,” Clint said in a bolder voice, “is that you have to trust me. Both of you. You just don’t have a choice. At this point there is nothing else you can do for yourselves.” Then, as if there was no point in continuing the conversation, he turned away and went back to the door.
    “There’s something we can do for ourselves, all right,” Sherry whispered to Madeline when he was out of earshot. “And we’re going to do it as soon as this van stops.”

Chapter Five
    T he ordeal seemed to shift from frightening to downright intolerable when Sam began to sing “You Ain’t Nothin’ But a Hound Dog,” butchering the Elvis tune.
    “Please!” Madeline groaned. “This is enough of a nightmare without your singing.”
    Sam glanced over his shoulder, an amused half-grin working at his profile as he chanted the lyrics again, louder and even more off-key than before.
    Sherry buried her face in her knees and wrapped her arms over her head, but still the wailing continued.
    “Give up, Madeline,” Clint moaned from his position on the floor. “I’ve been listening to it for months. He sings when he’s nervous … or bored … or tired … or happy …”
    Sam arched an undaunted brow and did a drumroll on his steering wheel, humming loudly.
    “He would have been a rock singer,” Clint explained, “except that he lacked one crucial element called talent, plus he can never remember the lyrics.”
    “Just for that,” Sam said in a mock wounded tone, “I’m going to have to do my new and improved version of ‘Peggy Sue.'”
    “First they kidnap us, then they torture us,” Madeline mumbled.
    Sam cocked a brow. “Driving throws me off-key. I’ll do better on the