Page 149 of The Rival's Obsession
Jaxon is pacing now, crouched like a squirrel about to explode. “We’re dead. This is it. I’m too pretty to die behind bars. They’ll eat me first, Eve.” He whispers.
“Shut up and help me,” I snap, motioning wildly.
He sets the shoebox back into its spot—exactly how it was before. For once, I’m grateful for his obsession with symmetry.
Her heels are getting louder. Then I hear her on the stairs, coming up.
I meet Jaxon’s eyes, then glance to the balcony doors.
He follows my gaze as I point and push his shoulder.
He mouths:No freaking way.
I nod. Stern frustration twists my features into a deranged look of anger as we try to make no noise at all.
We move fast—quiet as ghosts, even though my pulse is anything but silent. Jaxon sneaks open the balcony door just as we hear Corrine reach the landing at the top of the stairs.
She’s not in a hurry, so at least she doesn’t suspect anything is amiss yet.
The balcony doors swing shut behind us with a softsnick—a sound so small, so careful... and yet, to me, it may as well be a gunshot.
I flinch, instinctively ducking, then wave my arms like a frantic air-traffic controller.
Go. Go. GO.
Jaxon wastes no time. He swings one leg over the wrought-iron railing and starts climbing down, moving fast but careful, his limbs gangly but precise. He's clearly seen too many spy movies and is living his best 007 fantasy.
I throw a leg over the edge, then the other. My palms—slick with sweat—grip the railing.
Thank God we wore black.
My heart’s jackhammering against my ribs, but adrenaline sharpens everything—makes the shadows clearer, the air colder, the consequences louder.
I drop down below the line of the railing, my shoe in the first foothold of the trellis, when the dark around us becomes slightly brighter.
Corrine moves the curtain.
The golden light from her bedroom spills across the balcony, stretching out like a spotlight hunting its next victim.
Jaxon is climbing down the trellis and freezes when he hears my panickedshhh.
I drop my head below the railing just as she opens the balcony door and steps out.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
My body is trembling. Muscles burning. I don't breathe. I don’t blink.
Corrine pauses.
Looking and listening into the night surrounding her.
I can feel her presence—so close beside me I swear I can smell her perfume in the air. I press closer to the house, prayingthe darkness cloaks us, that the trellis doesn’t creak, that my damn heartbeat doesn’t echo loud enough to betray us both.
She takes one slow step forward, then stops.
A long moment passes before she finally turns and steps back inside.
The door clicks shut behind her.
