Page 42 of Heat Lightning

The Masked Man was right. It wasn’t a trick. We’d forged a connection spawned by artificial stimulants, and after two full years of emptiness, his presence was the key to unlocking the thing I’d thought was gone forever.

I couldn’t process it. In a daze, I paced back and forth on the brick-paved sidewalk, shaking the back of my shirt in the breeze, hoping to air myself out a bit. A mom glanced my way as she passed by before quickly ushering her two young daughters ahead of her into the store.

Great. Now I was the one scaring kids.

My phone vibrated again. I hadn’t replied to the Masked Man yet; he probably needed an answer about coming over later.

Are you alright?

The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. Was he watching me?

I looked around, eyes darting between every moderately tall and broad figure on the street. With its bespoke little shops and quaint bed-and-breakfast lodgings, Plover Bay was a popular tourist destination, and this was peak season. The shopping district was packed.

But I couldn’t find him anywhere. Still, I knew he was watching—I could feel it.

It’s creepy to stalk someone while they’re shopping.

…

Who says I am?

I rolled my eyes. Oddly, I wasn’t as afraid as I should’ve been. I wouldn’t have gone so far as to say I wanted him to follow me or stalk me, but he was the only one who could fully understand what I felt right now. Even if he didn’t seem like the type to have a heart-to-heart, it would be nice to not feel so alone.

Before I could respond, Gwen hustled out with a large, heavy-laden bag on each arm. “Right, let’s get you home.”

Guess that was it for our shopping day.

We piled everything into the trunk. Once buckled in, I rolled a window down to take the edge off my scent on the drive back to the estate.

“I’m sorry,” I said after a few minutes of quiet. “This is so embarrassing.”

She looked a bit constipated, like she was trying not to inhale too deeply. “No, you don’t need to apologize. I’m just surprised, that’s all. I mean, you’ve never taken leave or anything since we started working together, so I assumed…” she trailed off.

“That I was on heat blockers?” I prompted.

She nodded.

I sighed. “I’m not. Things just haven’t… happened, since—well, you know.”

Stopped at a red light, she looked over at me. “Like, you haven’t had a cycle at all, since?”

“Not at all.”

“Have you talked to that doctor I told you about?”

After I moved out of the shelter, Gwen gave me the contact information for a reproductive doctor who specialized in patients like me. I nodded. “Yeah. She said that could happen, but it usually comes back before now. She also said it could be irregular and intense once it did come back. Which,” I gestured at myself in general, “it seems she was correct. I had no warning this was going to happen.”

That’s a lie. Okay, maybe someone did warn me. But believing him would’ve been ridiculous.

Except, it turned out he was right. Oops.

Her look was pensive. “Do you think this might have something to do with the person you definitely didn’t have in your apartment last night?”

Oof. I groaned and palmed my face with both hands. Kill me. Of course Mr. Marino had to tell her about last night. “You two are worse than a pair of meddling geese.”

“It’s because we care about you. You know that, right?” she said, pulling through the gated driveway that wound around the side of the house to the underground garage entrance.

My defensive remarks deflated. “Yes. I know.”