We hit a straightaway, slicing between blocks.I know this town now, the way the shadows move when something’s not right.And that car?It’s not right.
I lift my visor and lean forward, mouth to Wolf’s ear.
“We’re being followed.”
His body stiffens.
“Gray sedan,” I shout.“Saw it earlier.”
He reaches back, smacks my visor closed, and grips my arms around his waist.“Don’t let go.”
The engine snarls, and we’re off, the sudden jolt of speed whipping me backward.He weaves through the quiet town, taking sharp turns, cutting through alleys, blasting past glowing diner windows and shuttered storefronts.
The car follows.Always a few seconds behind.Never too close.
But too present.
“Shit.”My arms clench around him.I don’t know if I’m holding on or bracing for impact.
He darts left, tires spinning on wet pavement, and I realize where he’s headed.
Monty’s garage.
He kills the lights a block early, coasting the rest of the way in shadows.At the last second, he ducks into an alley, loops behind a construction site, and zips around the back of the property.The rear garage door looms ahead.
At the gate, he punches in the code.
Gravel sprays as we skid inside.The door rolls shut behind us, swallowing us whole.
Silence.For a breath.For two.I strip off the helmet and drag a hand through my damp hair, panting.
We made it.
But my gut twists with that old, familiar instinct.The one that never lies.
Someone out there knows where to look.
If it’s Jag, we wouldn’t have seen him.He wouldn’t follow.
He’d already be inside.
If it’s not Jag, who the hell is watching me now?
How much time do we have before they stop watching and start hunting?
Wolf removes his phone and shoots off a text.Minutes later, Carl and Jasper show up to escort us home.
The island is dark when we arrive, quiet but for the soft lap of waves against the dock.
We don’t speak.Not when we enter the guest house.Not when we climb the stairs.Not when my boots hit the landing outside my room.
I pause at the door, hand on the knob, heart thudding.
Wolf presses in behind me.Close.
Heat rolls off him.I can practically taste the tension crackling between us.His breath brushes my nape, and I shiver.
Slowly, his mouth finds the curve of my neck, soft at first, then open and hot, teeth grazing skin.
