Page 18 of Affliction
Thank you for everything, the house, the car, Hazel, for helping me leave. I miss you so much. I wish I could pick up the phone and hear your voice. So much time was wasted, which, I wish I could take back–make the right choices.
You should see how beautiful it is out here, I think you’d like it.
Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that I got here safely, and I'm okay. That I’m going to be alright, I will make you proud, I willmake Mom and Dad proud.
One day I hope I get to see you or, at least, talk to you again. I love you, and I miss you.
Love, Me
I read the letter over and over and over trying to decipher parts of it. Who is Nick? Why is she not supposed to contact him? Is Hazel the woman whose house she went to the other day, or someone else entirely? How did he help her? I have so many questions rushing through my head as I neatly fold the letter and slide it back in the envelope, then carefully place each item back in the lockbox and return it to its spot.
After making sure everything is the way that she left it, I mosey back to the front door. Iknewsomething was off about the background check, and it isn’t much to go on but I now have a couple of names to begin putting the pieces together.
Exiting the house, I make sure the door is locked then begin putting my damp socks back on–fucking swamp foot, I hate it. I’m forcing my feet back into my boots when I hear a car pass by. I tap the screen on my watch and the face lights up, it’s now two thirty in the morning.Fuck.
I did not intend to spend this long in the house. How in the fuck is it already time for her to be home? There’s no way I spent an hour and fifteen minutes in there. How long did I stare at that fucking letter?
I rush through the final lacings, stand to my full height and freeze when I see headlights coming into the driveway. I’ve got two choices; I can either retreat off the side of the porch and slip into the woods or I can let her catch me.
I must be fucking crazy because I choose option two.
Reaching into the inside of my jacket I pull out the balaclava I keep on me for when I ride in colder temperatures and grin. Rolling it over my face, I adjust it so it sits perfectly–leaving only my eyes visible.
Parker pulls into the driveway, turns off the engine of her Jeep Grand Cherokee, then the headlights follow. My heart is in my throat, I can hear it beating like a drum, easily deafening me. It’s not nervousness I feel though; it’s excitement.
A moment passes before she opens her door and exits, a slight crunch from her shoes hitting the drive, the only other sound between us. I smirk again as pure thrill rushes through me, drowning me in adrenaline. I hadn’t planned on letting her find me this soon, but I can't wait anymore. Not after hearing her voice, invading her space and her scent wrapped around my chest like it was ready to squeeze the life out of me. I can’t wait any longer–I need to get my hands on her, to feel her under me, to hear her cry my name.
She’s mine.
I’m motionless as she walks my direction, flipping through her key ring, oblivious to me looming in the shadow of her porch. She's just a few feet away from the first step when she grips the one for the house. When she grabs the railing, climbing the first step, I move forward.
Her head snaps up and her eyes slam into mine, her breath catching in her throat.
Another step forward and the poor thing freezes in place.Where’d all that gusto from this morning go?Wide, beautiful-brown eyes take me in and her lips part as her chest begins to rise and fall quickly.
“Hello, Sweetheart.”
Chapter eleven
After Cole’s boss–Maverick–left thebar, the rest of my night went by painfully slow. Most of the customers departed shortly after he did, leaving only a few regulars who played pool and chattered loudly up until last call.
Tonight, Cole escorted everyone out then made his way to his back corner booth while I performed the closing duties. He mostly messed around with his phone but I could feel his eyes on me every now and then. I’m not sure how I feel about how much he watched me tonight as opposed to last night.
All I could think about was eyes, the lightest green eyes I’ve probably ever seen, and the way they still haunt me. How every movement I made felt as if they were meticulously catalogued to use against me. Normally, that sort of intent focus would make me uncomfortable, but not Maverick. It was exciting, even when he glared at me over the rim of his glass like he wanted to devour me whole. Heat bloomed in my cheeks and pooled low in my stomach.
Wiping down around the register, I glance to where I placed his business card after he left. It’s standing up between the rows on the keyboard, daring me to do something with it. Tossing my towel on the bar, I closethe distance and pick it up, taking a closer look. His name and phone number are printed in silver leafing against a plain black background–clean cut, and elegant in a way. Flipping it over, I see the name of his company.Cain Defenses.Idly, I tap the card a few times against the register in contemplation before I stuff it in my back pocket for later.
Should I call him? If I call him, do I say it’s work related? Do I just go for it?
Let me be clear, I have never been very forward with men. Preston is the only person I have ever been with, and that thought makes me shudder and bile rise in the back of my throat. Needless to say, I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing.
Ever since moving here, I’ve had zero interest in dating or men in general–that fucker ruined everything for me. I don’t trust anyone enough to simply try, and even if I did try, experience has taught me that no one is who they say they are. Preston was the nicest, most considerate person I had ever met; until he wasn’t. Then he was the devil incarnate–no I’m not exaggerating.
What is it about the massive, tattooed stranger with eyes the color of sage, that has me feeling like I should take my shot? Maybe it’s loneliness that’s starting to weigh on me. Maybe it's the way my hand grazed his and an electric shock zipped straight to my core, dampening my panties. I yanked my hand back as if he had bit me, because that hasneverhappened before. Honestly, it frightened me some.
Once I finish at the bar, Cole once again walks me to my car, his eyes scanning the parking lot the whole time as if he’s some fleshy-roomba. I’m not entirely thrilled he insists on doing it but I don't complain, it does make me feel a little more at ease. Like the other day, he waits for me to exit the parking lot before he leaves. Thankfully the ride home is silent, the image of big tattooed hands and light-green eyes consuming my thoughts.
The hair on my arms stands at attention as soon as I pull into the driveway–something is off. I scan my surroundings before carefully exiting my Jeep. I don’t see anything out of place but that doesn’t mean a damn thing.
