He sees me and turns on a very practiced, suave smile. This guy is a douchebag.
“Ms. Harlow, it’s good to see you again.” He steps toward me and holds his hand out for me to take.
That voice. I know that voice, but I’m having trouble placing it.
Looking at his hand, I don’t reach to take it. I don’t like him, but I’m not sure why. “And you are?”
He drops his hand and takes back the step he just took, sliding his hands back in his pockets. “I’m sorry. I’m Special Agent David Sanders. Special Agent Abbot asked me to stop by and check on you.”
That’s the voice I heard on the conference call, the one that asked Rhys if he ‘had that at his house twenty-four-seven’. Two things happen. My skin flushes in anger because this man is in my house, and then my heart splinters because Rhys sent him.
He said he would shield me from those men. And I believed him.
I was so fucking wrong about him.
Swallowing around the lump in my throat, I stare at the asshole in front of me. “As you can see, Agent, I am fine. You can report back that there is nothing to report. Have a nice day.”
As I turn to leave, he calls out. “Wait.”
Turning to face him again, my patience wearing thin, he says, “Abbot asked me if I could take you in to get a report on file. Would you have time for that today?”
A report for what? There isn’t anything to report.
He sent this fucking asshole to pick me up and force me to be stuck in a car with him? I’m practically vibrating with anger. “I’m sorry that you came all this way, Agent, but I won’t be going ‘in’ anywhere. If the FBI wants a report, they can send someone, not you, here to get it. You can see yourself out.”
Not waiting for him to say anything else, I turn and retrace my steps back to my cabin.
Stupid asshole.
Fucking prick.
Goddamn liar.
Once I’m back at the cabin, my bare feet bang on the hardwood as I speed-walk to grab the canvas with the charcoal portrait on it, I walk to my firepit and toss it into the ashes left over from previous fires. Tearing the pages of the letter I wrote to my mom out of the spiral notebook, I set them on fire with my lighter and set the pages under the canvas and watch the black scorched circle appear right in the middle of his face.
My new phone dings in my pocket, and I pull it out, even more pissed because a part of me is hoping it’s Rhys. If only to tell him to go fuck himself and never call me again.
3:46 pm: Allison
Whatcha doing tonight?
3:46 pm: Me
You tell me.
3:47 pm: Allison
(Wink emoji) I’m sending a pin. It’s a new club in South Tulsa, meet me there at 8.
3:47 pm: Me
(Kissing emoji) See ya then.
CHAPTER TWENTY
KINLEY
THE PARKINGlot at the club is packed, so I have to park a block away. The car that’s been parked at the end of our driveway for the past two days pulls into a spot a few cars down from me. I make eye contact with him and roll my eyes as I give him the bird and my back and walk away.
