Page 135 of Dead Pretty

And he is most definitely not asking me to go away for the weekend with him.

He’s asking me to go into hiding with him from a mystery person who might not even exist. Based solely on the fact that a picture was put in his wallet.

“I think you’re overreacting about this, Jack. I really do.”

“And I get why you think that. Because you think the real killer is behind bars. I know he’s not. I was worried about your safety, Audrey, but nothing has happened to you since you moved here, aside from finding that dead rat in your apartment, so I figured you were safe for now. This photo in my wallet changes everything. Someone wants you away from me. That might not put you in immediate danger, but it means something is happening, and I’m not willing to put your safety at risk.”

“Maybe if I just stay away from you, that will solve all of my problems,” I say the words with all the anger I feel inside of me.

Jack sighs. It sounds defeated. “Okay. Just promise me … you’ll be careful. And if anything happens—”

“Then, I’ll call the police first.”

The hurt in his eyes causes an ache in my chest to bloom.

I hate that I have feelings for him. It makes this so much harder.

Jack nods. It’s a final kind of nod.

It splinters something inside of me. But I let it fragment, and when he gets up and leaves my apartment, I don’t stop him. Even though my tortured heart is crying for him to stay.

A shadow.

I jump out of sleep. Bolting upright. Heart beating like crazy in my chest.

I hate it when I have those nightmares. He’s always there. I just can’t ever see his face. Always a shadow.

I press a hand to my chest and try to steady my heart and breaths.

Mouth dry, I get out of bed and go to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

As I’m walking, the memories of yesterday flood me. Finding out who Jack is. Who his brother is …

I’m still struggling to believe it.

But really, I shouldn’t be surprised. I have no luck in life. Only bad Karma finds me. Over and over.

The worst thing is that I miss Jack.

I hate knowing that he is just down the hall in his apartment, sleeping, and I’m here, alone, without him.

Could we get past this?

Could I?

I won’t deny that a part of me wants to. But I don’t see how we could.

Considering his brother is in prison, partly for crimes committed against me.

The thought of all of this brings an ache to my chest. I don’t want to think about it. I can’t. So, I do what I do best. I box up all thoughts of Jack and pack them away in my mind.

I get a glass from the cupboard and the water from the fridge, and then I pour myself a drink.

I take a sip.

I feel restless. I know I won’t get any more sleep tonight.

If Jack were here—