I freeze. My stomach drops.
Donovan’s head turns instantly toward the door, protective and alert.
I step out onto the porch before he can stop me.
Mrs. Evergreen from next door is standing at the edge of her driveway, arms crossed tight over her chest. She wears a robe, her face bare of makeup, her hair tied up in a towel. “I thought that was you,” she says, relief flashing across her face. “I heard something last night. Around midnight.”
While we were in Las Vegas.
“Thought it was kids at first, but…” Her eyes flick to the open door behind me. “…then I saw someone.”
My pulse spikes. “What do you mean… someone?”
“Tall,” she says slowly. “Hood up. Didn’t get a good look. But they were going in and out of your place like they owned it.”
My throat tightens.
“I almost called the police,” she adds. “Didn’t know if I should?—”
“I’ll handle it,” I say.
Her gaze sharpens. “Thought that’s what you’d say.” Then, her eyes drop to my hand and Donovan’s.
To the matching ink circling our fingers.
Her brows lift, and my cheeks burn. “Well,” she says, a cheeks glowing now. “You’ve had quite a night.”
I let out a hollow laugh. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Try me,” she says. One of the town gossips. I’d sooner cut off my arm.
Mrs. Evergreen is like a ferret when she smells something she doesn’t know. And right now? My wrecked house, the cowboy fireman at my back. This is exactly the kind of story she’d sink her teeth into.
“Maybe another day. But—” I ask, something not settled right in my stomach, “—why didn’t you call the police if someone was coming through like that? So suspicious?”
Her eyebrow arches. “Because I know about you.” That’s it. Her face goes hard and then she turns, walking away and closing her door.
“Know about you?” Donovan asks, stepping forward. His fingers find mine, just brushing them, reminding me I’m not alone.
“I guess this is the part where I’m supposed to tell you everything, huh?”
His eyes narrow, jaw tightening. “We need to call the sheriff first. Get this mess reported.”
“No,” I repeat, mind spinning. “That’s not how this works… for me.”
His Adam’s apple bobs, eyebrows furrowing. But he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he senses I need privacy, placing his hand in the small of my back and guiding me back inside. He closes the door behind me, turning and crossing his arms over his chest.
My hands are shaking, realization coursing through me. He thinks he’s going to get answers. Maybe he even thinks he can get me to stay. But not after this.
My eyes survey the room, fate locking into place again. Harsh and cold. Because I know this isn’t random, and it isn’t by chance.
I’ve been found, and this time I don’t think running is going to save me.
“I need to make a call,” I say.
His jaw tightens. “Then make it.”
“I will.” Just… not yet. I drag in a breath. “I just—” I shake my head. “I can’t do it here.”
