They smile at me, and I return the gesture before walkingaway. As I exit the diner, the bell above the door chimes softly before I step outside into the impenetrable fog. It’s gotten thicker against the backdrop of the gray sky, and a boxy stoplight suspended from wires at the center of the intersection sways, the halo of the illuminated red circle bleeding into the air.
When I finally reach the car, I toss my notebook into the passenger seat and smile to myself.
No need to brainstorm anymore today; I have a plan and a potential target.
CHAPTER 14
“Power is given only to him who dares to stop and take it… one must have the courage to dare.”
—Fyodor Dostoevsky
After an hour of trying on outfits, mixing and matching various articles of clothing, I’m finally walking downstairs in a pair of dark-washed jeans that hug my curves, a tight black blouse, and mini heeled boots. I took the time to do my makeup as well, winging out a subtle smoky eye and putting on a neutral-pink lipstick, which I haven’t done in years. Joel always hated dark makeup.
I take a deep breath when I make it to the bottom of the stairs, mentally preparing myself for the night ahead, then round the corner to the kitchen.
“Where areyou going?”
Ambrose’s voice makes me jump, and I teeter on my heels before steadying myself with a hand against the wall.
“Jesus, you scared me.”
His gaze rakes over my body before returning to my face, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was checking me out.
He’s probably just surprised I can clean up so well. I’ve practically been living in sweatpants and t-shirts since I got here.
“I asked you a question,” he prompts.
Oh, right.Asshole. “I’m going to the bar.”
His eyebrows rise before he schools his expression to his typical cocky self. “Why? Do you have a date?”
His tone is off, like his taunting holds more of a bite than normal. Something must have put him in a bad mood today, but I don’t care enough to ask what or why.
“Does it matter?” I fire back with a feigned smile. For once, it feels like I’m the one with control while he’s on edge, and I can’t say I hate the shift in the dynamic, no matter how temporary it may be. He deserves to suffer a little. Or a lot.
Ambrose clenches his jaw, and it takes everything in me not to laugh in his stupid, smug face.Doesn’t feel so good to be taunted all the time, does it, asshole?
“No,” he finally says, his tone too controlled, like it’s taking entirely too much effort to speak normally. “But I’d appreciate knowing if you’ll be out for the entire night. And I refuse to allow another man into my home, so don’t even consider bringing someone back here.”
I snicker. “Relax. The only reason I’m going to the bar is to make the most of this dealyoutricked me into making.” I brush past him on my way to the fridge, ignoring the way his eyes stay locked on me.
His tone is considerably lighter when he asks, “Oh, is that so?”
I take a swig of the soda I just cracked open and stare right back at him. “Yes, and I’m leaving now. I’ll be back sometime tonight. Don’t wait up.” With that, I stride past him, loving the sense of power that comes with the measuredclick-click-clickof my heeled booties against the hardwood floor. As I walk, I pull the necklace from its place in my purse pocket and slip it over my head.
I snatch the keys to the Camaro without losing my stride and slam the front door behind me.
Resentment simmers up in my chest. What right does he have to question me like that afterhe’sthe one that’s trapped me here? He’s given me the rules of our deal, and that should be enough. I don’t owe him an explanation. Although, it was entertaining knocking him off balance for a change. I don’t know what’s gotten into him tonight, but he can stew in it for all I care. I’ve got more important things to worry about.
I park the car on the side of the street, two blocks down from the bar. Close enough for a getaway, but far enough that it’s not in direct view of the bar or any cameras that might be out front. There’s no way to predict how tonight will go, so I can only hope I manage to get out unscathed.
Pushing open the heavy wooden door, I step into the dimly lit dive bar and am enveloped by the smell of stale cigarette smoke and beer.
The country music playing over the speakers is barely audible over the cacophony of voices and billiards balls clacking into each other. The open area in the back of the bar has six pool tables, all teeming with people.
As I make my way towards the bar, the soles of my shoes cling to the sticky wooden floor, and my skin prickles with the amount of attention shifting to me. I’m a strangerwalking into a small-town bar all alone, and everyone seems to notice.
Quickly channelling the necklace’s magic, I will myself to become less noticeable, to blend into the background. It’s a strange sensation, like a veil dropping over me, and the gazes slip away. Thank goodness that worked.
