Because, again…why would he choose me? I’m a nobody.
“This has to be a mistake,” I murmur to myself.
Except it isn’t. Other than the cryptic message, my full name is on there.
Gold on black.
A harsh gust of wind whips at my back, snapping me out of my musings.
A feeling follows right behind, pushing against my ribs, telling me he’s here.
Not The Restorer. Not anyone else but him. The boy who used to be my brother’s best friend.
Impossible. Or is it?
“Duncan?” I breathe, shoving the invitation into the envelope before I spin around, scanning the street. “Are you here?”
No one answers. No one steps forward. Only a thin veil of fog creeps in, soft at first, then thicker. More ominous.
The silence, the shift in the air, it sends chills down my spine. My fingers clutch the envelope, bending the expensive paper. Warmth and resentment wrestle for dominance as my gaze sweeps the street, searching, searching, searching.
“Duncan?” I repeat, a little louder this time. My throat doesn’t allow much more than a whisper. “This isn’t funny, tricking me.”
Another gust of wind picks up golden leaves on the other side of the street. They flutter for a moment, then fall in our neighbor’s front yard.
“I’m not mad.” The words leave me before I can stop them.
I used to be, sort of. His reaction to our kiss hurt. His leaving without talking to me, without giving me a chance to apologize for making him so uncomfortable, was worse.
Not anymore. Especially not tonight. It’s hard to focus on that when all I want is to look at his gorgeous face. For him to step out of the shadows and tell me I’m not imagining this.
“Just come out already. You’re freaking me out.”
Nothing.
Maybe this isn’t him after all. Come to think of it, it’s probably not.
Scaring me, he never would’ve done it. Ever.
In that case, a stranger is lurking out here on my street.
Someone who probably has nothing to do with the invitation and everything to do with my brother. Maybe they’re waiting for me to open the gates so they can get to Barclay when he’s at his weakest.
They’re going totake careof him, the man who hurt so many people. Who—maybe, I don’t know—has gambling debts that need to be collected.
And since I’m all alone out here, they won’t hesitate to come after me too. An appetizer before they go in for the kill.
“Dammit,” I groan, stuffing the letter into my bag.
As fast as humanly possible, I twist the key, get in, slam the gates behind me, and lock them.
“I’m calling the cops.”Liar.
Barclay would lose it if I did that. He doesn’t trust the justice system after we lost the civil lawsuit.
“I will.” My threat is nothing but jagged words clawing up my throat. “Leave and don’t come back.”
The wind answers me, a low howl. This whistle, this omen, it sends me running. Sprinting, actually.
