Page 72 of The Woman with the Handcuffs

Just having that reassurance, that back-up plan, seemed to be all she needed to be able to keep her panic down and make it across the bridge.

“I can drop you at home,” she offered.

“Nah. Been in the car too long. It’ll feel good to stretch my legs and walk.”

So we went to the garage.

Parked her car.

Exchanged numbers.

“Would it be okay if I went with you to see your brother?”

“Yeah. But I want to go tomorrow. Get this ball rolling.”

“Okay,” she said, sliding into the taxi I hailed for her.

“But just knock,” I said, shooting her a smirk. “No need to hold me at gunpoint this time.”

I closed the door on her little laugh.

Then fucking smiled the whole way home.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Caitlin

“This is stupid,” I grumbled, ripping the third shirt off and tossing it onto my bed.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d fussed so much about an outfit.

Then again, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been interested in a man, either. So I was giving myself a little grace about being silly and girlish over my outfit.

It was cloudy with a chance of never-ending rain, so anything super cute was out, but I eventually settled on a brown corduroy skirt, a lightweight sweater printed with little pumpkins, and a pair of low boots for the ultimate fall outfit that didn’t look like I was trying too hard.

I pulled my hair up into a ponytail secured with a claw clip—since using an elastic proved difficult if not outright impossible with the stupid cast—grabbed my bag and an umbrella, and made my way out the door with a giddy, skittering feeling rushing through my veins.

The sky opened up just before I reached the ground level, so I paused outside my building to flick open my umbrella and stepped out onto the wet sidewalk.

I was only a few feet away from my building when I saw a familiar face.

Or, well, he would have been familiar if he wasn’t so bruised, bloody, and swollen.

The guy from the pizza place on the corner.

The one who gave me the creeps.

Well, it looked like he finally gave the wrong person the ick.

His black-eye-ringed gaze flicked up to me, and I watched his eyes widen before he turned and ran away from me.

Huh.

Weird.

I stopped to grab myself a pumpkin spice latte and Gav a boring old drip, forcing me to have to use my casted arm and my boobs as a shelf to carry the tray so I could still hold the umbrella.

I was over the cast already.