Page 89 of Condemned By Betrayal
She nods, rising. She walks me outside the clinic. I give her a goodbye hug and head to my car.
Before I reach it, a creeping sensation crawls up my spine—someone is watching me. I turn, but no one is there. The area around Amber’s clinic is nicely developed. There are many buildings with new offices and various clinics, including two vet clinics. Plenty of people are out and about. In a crowd like this, it’s hard to tell if someone was actually watching me, and I can’t be sure it wasn’t just my mind playing tricks.
Remi approaches. “What’s wrong, ma’am?” They stopped calling me “miss” after I became Hunter’s wife.
“Nothing. Let’s go,” I say, walking again.
By the time I reach home, it’s already evening. May has already left after setting our food on the dining table and feeding Rosie and Bruno. Salvario isn’t at home. He goes out quite a lot, unlike Hunter. Another way he’s changed.
I drop my bag in the living room and take Bruno and Rosie out for a walk. I haven’t gone more than a few blocks when I feel it again, that creeping sensation of being watched. Without thinking, my eyes drift to the corner where I used to find Hunter when he first came here.
Could he be here?
I shake my head the moment the thought surfaces. It would be monumentally stupid of him to come here. I don’t think he’s that far out of his mind.
Still, I drop Bruno and Rosie’s leashes so they can roam free. If he’s really here, they’ll find him. They don’t bolt off, though, they stay close until we reach a black Maybach parked at the curb. Bruno crosses the road first and reaches the car, barking, with Rosie following, and then me.
I should grab their leashes and drag them back to the house, we don’t know who’s inside. For all I know, there could be a bomb in that car, and Bruno sensed it. But acting on better judgment hasn’t been my strong suit lately, so I lean closer to the tinted glass and peer inside.
I jump back an instant later, eyes wide, breath caught.No. No. I must be seeing things.I hold my breath and, heart hammering, lean in again and look inside. This time, I don’t pull away. A pair of gray eyes holds me in place. He sits calmly in the driver’s seat, a black mask covering the lower half of his face, dressed in black shirt and black pants, just like the day I first saw him. One hand rests on the steering wheel; the other taps his thigh.
Even with the width of a seat and a closed door between us, I feel his hand around my throat—squeezing, stealing my breath, robbing me of movement, even of the ability to blink. It only releases when he decides, when he turns the engine over and pulls the car backward. I keep staring at the tinted windshield, even though I can’t see him, I know he can see me.
“Who was that?” Remi’s voice yanks me out of my frozen state.
I blink rapidly, trying to come back to myself.
“I don’t know,” I murmur, gathering Bruno and Rosie’s leashes from the ground.
No matter how many times I shake my head or blink, I can’t seem to leave that street behind.
“Are you feeling all right?” Salvario asks.
I nearly jump at the sound of his voice.
“Oh—no, I’m fine,” I manage, forcing a smile.
“You’re not eating,” he observes.
“Ah, that’s because I’m not hungry. I had a brownie and some coffee at Amber’s clinic.”
He reaches for my hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. “It must have been a draining session. Get some sleep early.”
I nod, holding my smile in place, then slowly ease my hand from his and rise.
“Finish your dinner. Good night.”
He nods. “Good night.”
I leave the dining room and head upstairs. Bruno and Rosie are already in my room, probably asleep by now. They claim the bed after I bathe them following our walk, and I join them after dinner. Salvario is staying in the guest room downstairs while we take things slowly. The only problem is that nothing is moving forward, everything is stuck in a loop, and at the center of that loop stands the man I never want to see again. My chest squeezes; even the thought of it is funny.
I lock the door and step inside. Bruno and Rosie aren’t on the bed. I frown, then spot them sleeping in their own bed. My steps slow. When Hunter was here, they used to sleep at the foot of my bed. Their mattress was deflated and stored in my closet. What’s it doing out here?
There’s no one in the room. The closet door stands open, so I walk toward it. Thankfully, my legs are working, because the way my nerves are firing in excitement—no, not excitement, it’s fear—makes me feel like a live wire moments from snapping. I could collapse to the floor any moment.
I can’t even decide what to focus on, calming my heart before it bursts, slowing my breath so the burning in my lungs eases, or holding my head to stop the spinning. By the time I reach the closet, all those options vanish like smoke in a cold wind.
I can only focus on one thing. The man in the black shirt standing before me, facing the other way. His arms are crossed over his chest, the fabric straining across his wide shoulders and back.
