Then I throw a few fresh logs into the fireplace and poke at it until it’s crackling with flame and warmth. All within sight of the large window in my family room.
It’s a performance for the woman who has moved to another tree, closer to the house. At least she’s not standing in the middle of my driveway. Sigh. Maybe I’ll have to bring her inside to talk to her. I have a feeling she’s not gonna knock on my front door.
I slip out of view of the window to grab the supplies I need from the closet by the back door, then pull on my jacket and balaclava. The last thing I do in the house is to click off the Wi-Fi and turn on the cell service blocker so it appears as if we’re in a dead zone, except for my personal devices. Noah’s got one too. We don’t prefer to bring targets into our homes, but it definitely happens sometimes.
Then I slide out the back door, gently closing it behind me.
Snowflakes drift lazily down from a white sky. I guess I shouldn’t worry about what the roads will look like tomorrow,when Callie wants to reschedule, because it turns out I probably won’t have to go anywhere.
I trek down the wooded pathway to the shoreline, the frozen lake bright and still, then back up and around the house, approaching Callie from behind. She’s still standing partway behind a tree in her pink puffy coat, staring at my cabin.
I take a second to consider what I’m about to do. Noah is the impulsive one, not me. He would just knock her over the head and tie her up without a second thought.
But Jesus Christ. Callie Callahan might as well have a neon blinking sign over her head.Find me here! I’m watching you! I’m a terrible stalker!
I shouldn’t do this. I could just say, hey, what are you doing? And let her run away from me untouched.
But I don’t want her to run away.
I want to know what she’s thinking. What she’s planning, if anything. I’m almost giddy with the thought of talking to her.
Callie’s not even paying attention to her surroundings, so intent on staring at my cabin, where nothing at all is happening. So much so that I can walk up behind her, and she doesn’t even notice me.
Not until I lift the syringe to her neck.
Fuck, this is why I’m single, isn’t it?
Chapter 4
Poor Decision Making
CALLIE
Iam so not a stalker.
I’m also not a criminal, which is more than I can say for my late father, my brother, and my soon-to-be ex-husband.
What the fuck am I doing here? I’m fueled by anger and spite, which is what I’m mostly made up of these days. I’m like three rabid raccoons in a trench coat.
And I’m huddled behind a damn tree in the middle of the woods spying on this gorgeous but almost certainly fucked-up dude.
I shiver and rub my arms with gloved hands. I totally chickened out of meeting him back in Portland in public where I would have been safe. Safer. And then as he strode down the sidewalk toward his car—after I realized that yes, my first thought when watching him through the coffee shop window was correct, he’s insanely hot—I panicked that he might not agree to meet me again. Maybe he’ll think it’s a trap or I’m the cops or something. Then Shane’s words echoed in my head, calling me a boring-ass good girl. I mightbe looking to get rid of all the criminal nonsense that surrounds me, but that doesn’t mean what Shane said is true. I’m not boring.
And I can’t let Hawk slip through my fingers.
I almost didn’t even reach out to him. But what choice did I have? Just wait around for Shane to call me again or show up at Jake’s apartment? Nightmare.
Hawk responded. And showed up. Tall and broad-shouldered and dark-haired with tattoos on his exposed forearms. He also smiled at the woman who walked by with her baby and said thank you to the barista who came to collect his empty coffee cup.
So I followed him. He might’ve been local, and I could learn something else about him. Maybe he’d go home, and his real name and social security number would be posted on his door for easy reference.
Instead, I’m in the middle of the woods, the sky heavy and the cold, wet smell of impending snow in the air.
Maybe if I’d been a part of the family business, I’d be good at this stuff. Finding people. Forcing people to do what I want. Sneaking around.
Maybe then my marriage wouldn’t have crashed and burned.
Shane’s father was part of a different crime family, and our fathers had been friendly. When his dad was killed in a job gone wrong and Shane ousted from the group, Dad offered him a place to stay, a low-level job with the family, and some mentorship. He even pushed Shane to change his name for safety. At that point, I was in the middle of getting my bachelor’s degree at a community college and had already moved out into a tiny studio apartment.
