Why is she coming out here all by herself?
Does she know I’ll follow? Like a fucking lost puppy desperate for a sight of her? For a second of her time that’s not watched like a hawk?
I glance behind me, making sure I’m not being followed, but when I find no one, I turn the same bend Chloe did just a few moments ago and finally see her.
She has her back to me, her attention looking out over the lake my mother had built when we were kids. I don’t know why she thought a body of water on the grounds for the gators to inhabit was a good idea, but sometimes when the world gets too loud, this is where I come to think.
I don’t bother softening my steps as I approach, and when her soft vanilla scent wraps around me, I step up behind her, my body pressed to her back.
Like it has a mind of its own, my hand lifts, wrapping around her throat and tugging her against me. The first contact I’ve allowed myself in years sends a shock through my chest, making it hard to breathe, but somehow I manage to find words.
“Always running from me, aren’t you, Duchess?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHLOE
NOW
The air leaves my lungs, making it impossible to drag in a breath as I stare up into cold blue eyes that I once found comfort in.
I’ve spent the last seven hours driving. How could he possibly have found me so quickly? Unless he was following me the whole time…
Fuck.
I was so careful.
I checked my mirrors religiously, making sure the same cars weren’t following me, even going as far as taking the long way around to my destination.
But it wasn’t enough.
Damon crowds me, and I have no choice but to step back into the restroom, and the second the door swings shut, he flicks the lock.
For the second time in twenty-four hours, a Lombardi has me trapped, and this time I don’t have a chance of escape.
I don’t have a backup plan.
No one knows where I am.
He could kill me and no one would ever know, they’d just think I was hiding somewhere, starting a new life.
“Where did you think you’d be able to hide that I wouldn’t find you, Chloe?” He spits my name like it’s personally offended him, and my chest tightens at the sound.
I’ll never understand how we got here. How we went from best friends to enemies overnight. Because he’s never explained it to me.
One day we were playing in the garden, and the next he wouldn’t say a word to me, wouldn’t even look at me.
“What do you want?” I whisper.
“You and I are going to take a little trip back to Miami, and then you’re going to answer all the questions we have about Kingston fucking Beaumont.”
His name takes my breath away. I’ve made it a point not to think about him, because just like when I think about the brothers, it fucking hurts when the memories of King fill my mind.
“I don’t know anything about him,” I reply, forcing my voice to remain even. “I haven’t seen or heard from him in a decade.”
“Liar,” he growls, advancing on me quicker than I can retreat until my back hits the wall and his tattooed hand wraps around my throat.
His hold doesn’t make it impossible to breathe, but the warning is there. My life is in his hands, and if I want to walk out of here alive, I need to do what he says.
