Page 65 of Dangerous Attraction

He always drops me off and watches me until I'm inside, whether it's here or at the diner.

Usually, I appreciate the sentiment, but tonight, the thought of it has my pulse hammering in my ears and my shoulders tightening.

My chest is rising faster than normal as he rounds the last corner and drives toward the end of the row.

Fingers digging into the skin of my thighs, my eyes dart to my trailer, and my breath rushes out at the sight of the lights being off.

My body remains tense, but my pounding heart starts to settle down inside my chest at the possibility of my dad not being inside.

Reeve parks out front, pulling the car to a stop, while my gaze lingers on the window beside the trailer door, swallowing hard.

After a few moments, I force a small, tight smile onto my face, then turn to look at him.

"Thank you," I mutter, as I slowly reach for my bag and pull it onto my lap.

Casting my eyes back to the trailer, I draw in another deep breath before I open the car door and climb out.

Gripping onto the edge, I pause and give myself a moment to stabilize my legs before I move to the side and close the door behind me.

Hesitantly, I move away from his car, dragging my feet as I close the distance between myself and the steps leading up to the trailer.

When I reach them, I hover there for a few seconds as I listen for any sounds from inside.

Silence greets me, and with one last glance at Reeve—who's peering at me through his windscreen—I take a deep breath, place my trembling fingers on the handle, then gently pull it down and inch the door open.

The inside of the trailer is bathed in darkness.

No sounds.

No movement.

With my shoulders hunched, I step inside, carefully pulling the door closed behind me.

Then I wait, rooted to the spot in the ink-stained room.

Without an ounce of light, a creeping sense of danger settles in my bones.

Keeping my back pressed against the door, and my fingers wrapped around the handle, I wait for the sound of Reeve's engine, holding my breath as the noise breaks through the silence surrounding me.

As the rumbling grows distant, I move away from the door and peek out the window to make sure his car is gone.

When I no longer see the black Camaro parked outside, I release a sigh. My eyes fall closed as I rest my forehead against the glass.

A creak from behind me has my eyes shooting back open.

I remain in place, every inch of my body frozen.

The hairs on the back of my neck rise, and my breathing grows shallow.

He's here.

I can feel his presence, and if I focus hard enough, I can hear his wheezing breaths, and the sound of his nails scraping over the skin on his arms.

"I thought I told you not to come back here," he spits, voice laced with venom.

Squeezing my eyes shut again, I tighten my grip on the handles of my bag, and press my body closer to the wall, trying and failing to hide myself from him.

Scrambling for an excuse as to why I'm here, I feel the peeling leather of my bag brush against my legs, and my eyes ping open.