Mallory bit down and then yanked at the arm. Her meager strength came from another rush of adrenaline.
"Whoa, Mallory. It's just me."
The familiar voice froze her before she could do any damage. Oh crap. As if her day hadn't tanked already.
One by one she uncurled her fingers from around his wrist. Her shaking hands grasped the steering wheel, knuckles white.
Her eyes fell closed. If she had a list of people she never wanted to see again, his name would be at the top. Why here? Why now? This was the last thing she needed.
She steadied her breath and her gaze scanned the parking lot. No one stirred or walked to their car. She couldn't be seen with him.
"Don't turn around. Just drive. I'll be hunkered down in the back."
She started the car and drove home. Her knuckles remained white. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"I think you know."
Of course. "The bomb in our trailer?"
Emotions roiled her stomach. She'd have to stock up on antacids if Trey was back in her life. And she had just been thinking how nutty this week of fair preparations had been. Now it all looked so easy.
Her thoughts shifted to the events of the evening. Who had put the bomb there? It wasn't a prank if this guy was here. This was bigger than all of Coleville, Centre County.
She pulled in front of her house, a two-story Cape Cod set down a long driveway.
"We're here and no one can see you from the road," she said.
She got out of the car, leaving her guest to follow.