Read Online Daffodils in March by Clare Revell - Free Book Online Page B

doing here, because things are almost unbearable. If this wasn’t what Hanna wanted, I’d leave.
    ****
    David drove to the park, thoughts running rampant through his mind. Eden hadn’t spoken to him since the previous evening. Part of him was grateful for that. The other part of him, the part that still cared an inordinate amount for her, wasn’t OK with that at all. But there was no way he could let this infatuation, crush—whatever he was going to call the torch he still carried for her and the vast amount of love he felt—get in the way of work. He was too involved and too many lives depended on his work. The needs of the many and all that...
    When he’d taken the undercover assignment, he’d taken her love and tossed it aside like an empty crisp wrapper. Tossing his heart after it. Only that wasn’t true, he chided himself. He’d take her back in a heartbeat, only that couldn’t happen.
    After parking the car, he shoved the gun into his waistband, and set off across the park to the duck pond. Not the ideal place for a drop, as there were often too many people about, but he didn’t have a choice in the matter. Hopefully, he could do this and still make church on time.
    David reached the duck pond and looked out over the water.
    “A little old to feed the ducks.”
    David took in the tall, bald, tattooed bloke in biker leathers standing there. “It’s something to do,” he replied.
    “Have you got it?”
    He jerked his head in response. “Money first.”
    The biker pulled an envelope from his jacket. “It’s all there.”
    “It had better be.” David checked it briefly, and then shoved it in his coat. He pulled out a parcel and handed it over. “Otherwise the boss will come calling. He doesn’t want a repeat of last time.”
    The biker looked at him.
    “Grant was a warning,” David told him. “Next time we won’t be so lenient.”
    The biker nodded and walked off.
    David returned his gaze to the pond. The water was still, not even a ripple. Unlike the rampant emotions tearing him every which way. He didn’t move, aware of the photographer on the other side of the pond, capturing his every stance. Was it one of his or one of theirs?
    Several unchristian thoughts flooded his mind. Taking a deep breath, he shook his head and prayed for forgiveness. Then he headed back to the car.
    He arrived at church to find Eden sitting in his normal pew with Marc. Holding in the sigh, he slid in beside her. He’d made it with a few minutes to spare and picked up his service sheet to read it. Going to church after what he’d just done didn’t seem right. He was more aware of his sin here than anywhere else. He wanted a shower desperately in order to try and remove the dirt covering him and caking his soul.
    Mrs. Taylor sat next to Eden and made a fuss of Marc, who smiled and gurgled at her.
    David caught Eden’s gaze, then turned his attention to the service sheet. The pastors were going through the Ten Commandments in the morning services. He found each one progressively more difficult, not just listening to them, but the way his conscience twinged and berated him. Today was going to be just as hard—Thou shalt not kill.
    David may not have physically pulled the trigger, but if he’d arrived just a few minutes earlier rather than waiting outside things would have played out differently.
    For an instant he considered bolting. Perhaps Marc would cry before the sermon ended and he could leave.
    But Marc didn’t cry. He fell asleep and stayed sleeping.
    David found himself rooted to the spot, only able to stand to sing.
    The sermon was harder than he’d expected. Pastor Jack seemed to be talking directly at him, every word ramming home with the force of the proverbial battering ram. Had someone been talking? How could the man possibly know all this? How could he know what kind of a mess David was in, and just how deep he was involved?
    David realized with a shock, that it was God talking unswervingly to him.