“Is that all?” Her brows are so high on her forehead that I don’t think I could mistake her surprise for anything else.
I wince. “Too much?”
She shakes her head and covers my hand on the table with her own. “Just enough.”
The entire meal, we never run out of things to talk about. She promises to show me how to throw a knife, and I promise to teach her how to shoot a gun.
She gives me more of her bucket list—places she wants to go, things she wants to do. I make a mental note to contact my travel agent about a trip to Europe next summer. I want to check off visit the Eiffel Tower, eat a Belgian waffle in Belgium, and make a wish in the Trevi Fountain.
Setting her fork on her plate, Savannah leans back in her chair. “Oh my God. I’m so full. If I take another bite, you’re going to need a forklift to carry me out of here.”
I reach across the table and grip her chin in my hand, making sure she’s looking me dead in the eye. “No negative self-talk.”
Savannah’s brows lower. “It’s just an expression.”
“Well, I don’t like it. No more,” I command and release my hold.
The elevator ding causes Savannah to freeze. “Is someone coming?” The numbers by the elevator change, indicating someone is coming to our floor.
“No one should be able to access that elevator,” I inform her as I pull the P320 out of the holster situated at the small of my back. Jumping to my feet, I move to put my body between Savannah and the elevator doors. “Stay behind me.”
“I can take care of myself,” Savannah argues as she lifts her dress and pulls out a knife from her inner thigh. She moves to stand at my side.
That’s so fucking hot, but now is not the time.
“I know, but you shouldn’t have to,” I reply. “Now get behind me.” I move my arm in front of her stomach and force her to move back.
Lifting my gun in both hands, I aim and wait for the doors to slide open. When they finally do, there isn’t a soul in sight. I take a few steps forward and curse. “Shit.”
Standing in the entrance of the elevator door, I see that clearly placed in the middle of the floor sits a a golden chalice covered in daisies. Next to it is a frosted bottle containing some clear liquid, with a cork keeping it sealed. Inside the chalice is a written note.
You have invited unclean hands where there should be one covenant—mine. The time of cleansing will come.
Love,
Your Shepherd
This guy is getting bolder. From what I understand, he’s never come this close to Savannah before. He’s spiraling, and he won’t stop until he has my Dream Girl.
Over my dead body.
All too late, I sense Savannah’s presence beside me. “What is it?” She gasps at the eyeful she gets. “How?”
My teeth grind together. “He’s watching us.” Whipping out my phone from my pocket, I hurriedly dial Hunter.
He answers in no time at all. “Why are you calling me when you’re supposed to be on a date?”
“We need Calder,” I grit out. “Now.”
CHAPTER 31
SAVANNAH
My hands still shake from the little present that was left for me in the elevator at the Empire State Building—partly from fear, but mostly from anger.
Rory was trying to do something nice, and I loved it. It was the perfect date—intimate, thoughtful, and fun. But my stalker just had to go and ruin it.
Rory jerks the wheel, weaving his car around a taxi.
