Page 21 of Brutal

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My pulse jumps, hard enough that I feel it in my throat.

He found me.

Samson Vexley.

Already I know this message is from him.

He noticed me. Did he feel something too?

I should delete it. Block the number. Put distance between myself and whatever this is before it turns into something harder to manage.

Instead, I stand and stare at the screen.

I shouldn’t have walked away from you.

I swallow.

What if he hadn’t walked away?

Already I know the answer. We would have ended up in bed.

And I’d be in more of a fucking mess than I already am.

5

SAMSON

I shouldn’t have walked away from you.

The message shows as delivered. Then read.

Good. She saw it. I wait a little longer to confirm.

She’s not going to answer.

Most people would. Even if only to deflect. A question, a half-answer, anything to keep the line open without giving anything away.

She gives me nothing.

I lean back slightly and let that settle.

She didn’t step back from me last night. Didn’t fill the space with chatter or nerves. She held it.

She’s doing the same thing now.

I pick up the phone again.

Dinner tomorrow. Eight. I’ll send a car.

I don’t ask if she’s free. I don’t ask where she is. I don’t ask for an address.

I send it and set the phone down.

I won’t check it again. If she ignores it, she ignores it.

But she won’t.

The confirmation comes the next evening, though not from her.

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