Page 70 of Risky Obsession

My stomach churned. I had done nothing but pretend with him.

“I can have bruises and still be fine,” I muttered.

He clamped his jaw like he was fighting his reply and turned the car onto the surprisingly deserted road. It was early Sunday morning, but I expected people to already be on their way to the town center, preparing for another day of the antique fair.

“Kane, I really am fine. We have more important things to focus on like my bag being stolen and my broken phone.”

Not having a phone was a major issue, but the loss of my passport wasn’t a worry because it was fake, but I needed to keep that fact from Kane. He was already suspicious of me.

He nodded. “That bastard knows who you are now.”

No, he didn’t.“And you’re a fugitive from the police because you ran away from the scene of a crime.”

He frowned at me. “We both ran away.”

“Yes, but your name was on the register.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I used a false name.”

My jaw dropped. “You did? Why?”

“Another tip from Pops. He said it saved him many times. First time I’ve used it. Lucky I remembered.”

I chuckled. “Lucky is an understatement. I think we got lucky with a whole heap of things.”

Kane turned off the road. “Well, let’s hope our luck continues, and this café has a restroom, or I’m going to burst.”

Kane parked the car outside a quaint little café, and we stepped out into the frigid morning air. My body protested every movement, but this pain was nothing compared to the agony I’d suffered when I was stabbed nearly a decade ago.

Kane held open the café door for me, a gentlemanly gesture that added to my conviction that he really was a good guy.

Inside, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the scent of pastries enveloped us. As Kane made a beeline for the restrooms at the back, I headed to a table in the corner, away from the front counter. We were the only customers in the café. Maybe the locals liked to sleep in on Sundays.

A waitress came over, and I placed our order, taking a guess that Kane would have the same as he’d had yesterday morning.

I pulled my phone from my pocket and ran my finger over the shattered phone. It didn’t even light up.Damn it.The phone had more damage than just a cracked screen. I shoved the phone back into my pocket, wondering how soon I could get a replacement and what the hell we were going to do for money without Aria’s credit card.

Kane slipped into the chair opposite me. “That’s better.”

“Great. I ordered our coffee and strudels. Hope that’s okay?”

“Sounds good to me.”

I stood. “My turn in the toilet.”

In the restroom, I locked myself in the cubicle, and after I finished peeing, I lifted my shirt to examine my torso. Wincing, I touched the fresh bruises dotting my ribs. The yellowing bruise on my left side wasnow accompanied by two bruises the size of fists on my right side. If anyone saw me, they would think I’d been in a car crash. That was how I felt too.

At the sink, I washed my face and attempted to tame my wavy hair with wet fingers. The bruise and cut on my cheek were just about gone. Thank goodness. I’d received lots of wary looks with those injuries. At least I could hide most of my other wounds.

By the time I returned, our coffees and pastries had arrived, and I felt half decent again.

“Feel better?” Kane asked with a gentle smile.

“Yes, much.” I wrapped my good hand around the hot mug. “This will help.”

With his eyes on me, he sipped his coffee, and I had a feeling he wanted to ask a question I wouldn’t want to answer.

Taking charge of the conversation, I said, “What time is it in Australia? Maybe we can call Aria.”