Page 18

Sinclair

T wo days had passed since Dagger fucked me senseless on the sofa, and even now I couldn’t look at the part of the sofa without blushing furiously.

Just a quick glance down there could reduce my panties to a sopping mess.

I avoided that part of the sofa like the plague, curling up on the other end to read my latest mafia romance, which wasn’t even really my thing, but I was in the mood for something a little darker.

I spent the past couple of days doing what I always did, working, shopping, and spending the evenings at home.

I made a note to get outside more, maybe join some of the teachers for drinks after work.

It was time—past time, really—for me to start making a life for myself.

I was contractually obligated to stay here for the next three years, and I needed to get some friends, get back into hobbies beyond cooking and reading romance novels.

A noise sounded outside, and it wasn’t the sound of a car rolling down the street or kids playing.

It was much quieter, like an accidental step on a dried-out twig.

The snap was loud enough to draw my attention and freak me out, but nothing anyone else would notice.

I froze and slowly put down my e-reader before I got to my feet.

I didn’t have a plan of action, but I felt safer standing up. I closed my eyes for a brief moment in an effort to hear if there was an intruder or just nature. I didn’t hear anything, but the truth was that Dagger had gotten in my head about the so-called stalker.

“I can’t stay here.” The blinds were closed but that snap of a twig brought me back to reality. I didn’t trust Dagger, but I did believe him that there was someone else watching me, and suddenly home was the last place I wanted to be.

Grabbing my purse and shoving my feet into the first pair of shoes I found near the front door, I headed out into the night in search of dinner. I drove around at first with no destination in mind, rolling my windows down and blasting some dance song I’d never heard before.

Briefly, I wondered if Dagger was behind me somewhere, following me like a sexy guardian angel.

“It doesn’t matter,” I said aloud, hoping the message would stick better if I heard the words.

“I don’t care if he his following me.” Part of me wanted to think it was nice to have someone in my life who gave a damn about me, but his actions meant I would forever question if he cared or needed something.

“Oh, Italian!” I turned into the half-full parking lot of an Italian restaurant and looked around before unlocking the doors.

Not that I knew what I was looking for, but I figured I’d notice if someone was watching me.

I hadn’t been able to tell before, so I stepped out of the car and walked quickly to the restaurant, smiling at the beautiful hostess who didn’t make me feel pathetic for requesting a table for one.

“Your server will be with your shortly.” She smiled and left me alone.

Everything looked so good, and I realized just how long it had been since I treated myself to a meal out.

I enjoyed the atmosphere of being in a restaurant with the servers rushing around taking trays to-and-fro, busboys rushing in to clear the tables while the hostess brought in a steady stream of new diners.

It was comforting in a way, the familiar chaos I hadn’t indulged in mostly because I rarely made friends to dine out with wherever I lived.

I ordered the arancini to start and a glass of wine because I intended to linger.

I wouldn’t rush through the meal out of embarrassment, I would savor the flavors and the experience.

I smiled when I caught the eye of a diner here or there, but mostly I focused on the lasagna and the tiramisu, wishing I’d called a rideshare so that I could enjoy another glass of the delicious red wine.

This was nice, eating out instead of holing up inside my rental alone. Always alone.

I wasn’t hiding, but I was living that way. The men who’d come after my dad for money had either been paid off, put in jail, or enjoying that eternal rest, so why was I still hiding?

I didn’t know, but I did know that was over.

I ordered another serving of tiramisu to enjoy tomorrow at lunch and paid my bill before heading out into the slightly chilly night air. I stood a little taller as I walked towards my car, feeling confident and ready to enjoy whatever this new life in Steel City might become.

I could still help Dani without dealing with Dagger, and if there was any hint of someone other than him watching me, I would call the police like a normal person.

I left that life behind me, the one where I didn’t turn to the police for help because it might put my father at risk of jailtime.

That wasn’t me or my life anymore, and it was probably a good idea not to get mixed up with another man whose first instinct wasn’t to call law enforcement.

Just as the thought occurred to me, I felt like I was being watched. I slowly turned around and saw nothing but lingering couples and singles who were paying attention mostly to their phones and some to the scenery around them. None of them paid me any attention.

I’m being silly.

That might have been my thought, but I walked a little faster.

I got in my car and quickly started the engine, racing out onto the street. Even when I hit the street, anxiety held me, and I decided to go for a drive rather than head back to an empty home. The cool air felt nice against my skin, but every half mile only heightened my anxiety. My fear.

I told myself I was being paranoid, but the self-defense training came back quickly, and I made the next left turn and then the first right just to see if someone was following me. “Shit.” A dark car, gray or maybe dark blue, was behind me. Stayed behind me through each turn.

I made another turn, and then another. And then I was one of those asshole drivers everyone hated, darting across three lanes to make a right turn from the left lane.

The dark car was still there. “Four doors,” I said out loud to solidify the memory as I applied a bit more pressure to the gas.

Yep, the car was definitely following me.

My heart banged against my chest and the whooshing sound in my ears threatened to drown out everything else.

I was scared. Really, really scared. The same way I’d been when that giant with long, greasy hair and tattoos had come to the house and told me I had to work for him to pay off Dad’s debts.

My palms were sweaty and slipped all over the steering wheel.

Every turn became more dangerous. My hands were barely able to hang on to the steering wheel, but I jumped on the highway and hit the gas harder, hungry to get as far away from that car as possible.

I was officially terrified, and I had no idea what to do about it.

Call the cops, dummy, like any regular person.

I wanted to, but I was too afraid to take my hands off the wheel, so I drove a little faster. Best case scenario, I would outrun this creep. Worst case? The cops would pull me over for speeding and I would be free of him.

Okay, think. I needed to think.

After another few miles it was clear that I couldn’t outrun him, which meant I had to be smart about this. The cops were my best chance to get out of this alive, except I couldn’t call them while I was driving.

I needed to stop somewhere. I drove another mile until the shoulder widened a bit and then I made another asshole move, slowing down and merging onto the shoulder without using my turn signal. I watched my mirror for the car, but he turned his lights off or he took the last exit.

A bitter laugh escaped because I knew he hadn’t exited the highway. He was out there, toying with me just because he could, and I was done with that, dammit.

I reached for my phone and called emergency services. “There’s a car following me and I need help,” I said when the operated answered.

“Location, ma’am?”

I looked around and then referred to the navigation on my map to figure out the answer.

Suddenly, a car slammed into me and sent my face crashing into the steering wheel. I screamed.

“Ma’am, are you all right?”

I blinked, ignoring the way my vision blurred, and black dots swam in front of my eyes.

My nose stung and my ears rang. “Someone just rammed into me!” I managed to push out through pulsating pain.

I looked into the rearview mirror and headlights blinded me.

“Oh my god, he’s going to hit me again!” I screamed and braced myself.

But the impact never came. Tires screeched and gravel kicked up before the car jumped back onto the road and sped away.

“Ma’am, are you there?”

I nodded even though she couldn’t see me. “I’m here. He didn’t hit me again. He sped off.”

After an eternal silence, she told me to hang on and wait for the police.

***

Twenty minutes later, a patrol car pulled up and out ambled an older man who looked straight out of an old cowboy western. “Sinclair Bronson?”

I nodded. “Yes.”

“I’m Sheriff Cross,” he said, offering a kind smile.

“Thank you for coming.” There was something calming about his presence and I immediately felt safe.

“Do you need EMS?”

My hand went to my face, and I shrugged. “I’m not sure. I hurt, but I’m okay.”

He nodded and helped me out of the car. “Any idea who might want to do this to you?”

I shrugged. “Not really. But there’s this guy, Dagger, and he said he saw someone watching me.”

Immediately, the sheriff’s interest was piqued. “How do you know Dagger?”

Shit. “I’m a fourth grade teacher at Steel City Elementary and his daughter is in my class.

I’ve been helping her.” I didn’t know why I felt so defensive, but I did, and the urge to over-explain was intense.

“I don’t know who that man is, and I can’t confirm it was the same man. I didn’t get the plate either. Sorry.”

He nodded. “It’s all right. Your car looks drivable.” His gaze bounced between my face and the back of the car.

I nodded. “I’ll drive it home and get it repaired in the morning. Thank you for coming all the way out here for what turned out to be nothing.”

“Hit and run isn’t nothing, Ms. Bronson. It’s a felony.”

“Right. But there’s nothing to go on.”

He smiled. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

I didn’t know what that meant, but my head was spinning so I nodded and waited for Sheriff Cross to take photos of my car before I was allowed to go home, where I planned to sleep and nothing else.

But that plan was interrupted by the tall, good-looking biker sitting on my porch.