Of course. I knew it. I knew he was still watching me.
“Please…” I force myself to turn, inch by inch, like one wrong move might set him off. “I–I don’t know what you want from me, but I swear I wasn’t the one who called the cops that night. I would never do that to any of you.”
Every syllable comes out thin and shaking, my eyes tied to his, begging for something, any hint of doubt or mercy, but there’s nothing there. No remorse or hesitation. Just flat brown eyes that give nothing away.
He hasn’t aged much since the last time I saw him. Same sharp cheekbones, same easy good looks, the same smile I used to think was charming. The handsome devil I once knew.
Only there’s nothing attractive about him now. All I see is what he really is: poison in a pretty package. Barrett’s monster. The kind of man who would kill me in the middle of this aisle without blinking if that’s what he was told to do.
His assessing gaze drifts over me. “If that’s true, why’d you run?”
The question knocks the air out of my lungs and I just stand there, fingers digging into the box in my hand, nails biting through the cardboard.
“Because I wanted out.” The words scrape out of me. “Once I had Milo, I couldn’t raise him in that life. I needed a fresh start with my son. Can’t you understand that?”
Of course he can’t. Men like Eli don’t understand loving someone more than yourself.
My throat burns, but I keep my chin up. “I’m begging you, please don’t hurt me.”
He takes a step closer, and instinct shoves me back. My shoulders hit the shelf, boxes rattling, a few tumbling to the floor around my feet.
Eli laughs. “Don't look so afraid of me, Ghosthands. I'm almost insulted.”
His fingers brush under my chin and I jerk away, stomach lurching as another memory slams into me. The last time he tried something with me, the way I told him no, the way his eyes went flat like a switch flipping and all the warmth draining out, leaving nothing but anger in its place.
“What do you want, Eli?” I’m trying to relax my pulse, but it just keeps pounding harder. “If you’re here to kill me, at least let me see my son first. Let me say goodbye.”
Someone pushes a cart past the end of the aisle, and his smile smooths out, harmless on the surface. He waits until they’re gone before he answers.
“I’m not here to kill you. Not yet, anyway.”
He reaches past me and a fresh wave of nausea hits as he nudges one of the boxes back into place on the shelf.
“I need something.” His gaze fastens on me. “And you’re the only one who can get it for me.”
This makes no sense. Barrett would want me dead. There’s absolutely no way he’d want anything from me if he thinks I’m a rat.
“What exactly do you need? Is this for you or Barrett?”
Did Eli cut ties? Did he start something on his own? I remember how much he hated being second to Barrett, how badly he wanted more power than he was ever trusted with.
“Does it matter?” His features pinch, a flicker of anger slipping through that calm mask.
For the first time since he walked up behind me, I get the sick, sinking feeling that whatever he’s about to ask isn’t going to be good.
“I just wanna know what's going on, okay? I want to know why you're here.”
He steps in closer, breath hot against my ear.
“Barrett has nothing to do with this. I’m the one who found you, and I’m the one who can ruin your entire fucking life if you don’t do what I say. You understand, bitch?” he whispers.
Ice crawls through my veins. I know exactly what he’s capable of, what I’ve watched him do to other people who crossed him. There is nothing empty about that threat.
“I understand.” The words barely make it out.
“That’s good.” His grin turns sinister, and I swallow down the bile climbing up my throat. “That’s real good.” The back of his hand drags down my cheek, and every muscle in my body screams to get away. “Go pay for your things. We’re going to my car to talk.”
I nod and turn toward the front of the store. He falls in behind me, so close that something hard presses into the center of my back, and I instantly know it’s a gun.
