Page 54 of Breathe Me In

“Yeah, well, don’t believe everything you hear.”

I chuckled. “Shouldn’t that go both ways?” I winced as my feet throbbed. Wearing heels for so many hours was a bad idea. I groaned as we made our way through the parking lot and onto the street. “Ray, you seem to have had a problem with me since the day I arrived. Why is that?”

“The guys don’t need the distraction. We need to stay focused—not showing up at a club to find our consultant dressed like a pinup girl in some sleazy tattoo parlor.”

“Wow.” I laughed in disbelief. “Please don’t sugarcoat your answer.”

“I never have, and I ain’t startin’ with you.”

I turned to face him dead on, tired of his attitude. “Fine, have a problem with me, snicker behind my back about how I dress. I had to play the part of a female looking to blow off some steam. I did everything by the book, just like you would have if you were undercover. I know I was close to luring him out.”

“But you didn’t lure him out,” he said, and I saw red. “Fuck.” He suddenly held a hand up in my face as he answered a call. Wow, he was rude.

I stepped back with a curse of my own.

“Yeah, all right.” He hung up and looked over his shoulder in the direction we came from. “I forgot something.”

“As much as this conversation has been the highlight of my evening, please go.” My voice dripped with sarcasm as I waved him off. “My truck’s just around the corner in the parking garage.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” He turned on his heel and headed back toward the club.

“What an asshole.” I felt the exhaustion kick back in as I rounded the corner and headed through the parking lot. Normally, I’d make an extra effort with people to try to make them see me for who I was, but Ray could suck it. I didn’t think he even wanted to see me any differently. He’d made up his mind about me. “Stubborn ass.” I shook the stress from my body as I thought of the comfort I’d soon have in my favorite jammies. The idea of curling up in the back of my pickup also appealed.

A ripple of fear suddenly went through me as my ears picked up a sound. I focused on the footsteps that I could hear behind me. I turned, but no one was there. “You’re fine, Bree.” I needed to keep my head focused, or it could spin out to dark places. I pulled out my keys and threaded them through my fingers. Solar plexus, instep, nose, and groin. I chanted the Sing self-defense moves repeatedly. I’d taken several classes over the years, and though I wasn’t the best at self-defense, at least I tried and knew the basics. My biggest hurdle was always my mental state—anything remotely terrifying brought me right back to that day at the river and the way his eyes had paralyzed me. One of my teachers told me my head would be my downfall if I were ever attacked. Maybe he was right, but therapy just wasn’t for me.

I kept my quick pace and even contemplated removing my shoes to stop their echo, but that would mean having to slow down.

Again, the sound found its way to me, and my fingers flexed around my purse strap. There was no need to panic. I wasn’t the only one parked here. A car from above came rolling down, looking for the exit. They slowed when they saw me, and I fought the urge to flag them down. I didn’t want to be alone in the garage.

Finally, I spotted my truck and breathed a sigh of relief, but it was short lived. I heard a sudden quick footstep behind me. With terror coursing through me, I forced myself to turn around. Then, like in my nightmare, I saw a figure step out from between two cars. My entire body went cold as the person, dressed in jeans and a dress shirt, with some sort of rag over his face, took a step toward me. His ball cap cast a shadow over his face, so I couldn’t see his eyes. My knees felt weak.

“Bree Jaminson,” he called out. My mouth went dry, and my hands shook. “I thought it was time we met.”

No.

“You’re so much prettier than your videos.” The ringing in my ears made it hard to think.

“How.” I struggled to get my words from my brain to my lips. “How do you know my name?”

He lifted his head, and for a split second the light above him revealed his eyes. The wrinkles around them seemed like he smiled, but then they were masked by the shadow again. He pulled his hand out of his pocket, and I saw the stain on his thumb. “I know a lot more than your name.”

“Who are you? What videos?” I tried to buy myself a moment to think while my brain spun out on me.

His head tilted. “I think you already know who I am.” He took a step toward me, and I lost it.

Fight or flight kicked in, and I flexed the keys in my palm as I counted in my head. One, two, three. I took off running toward my truck, my heels pounding the pavement as I fought for traction. My fingers shook when I desperately tried to insert the key into the old truck door.

I glanced at the reflection in the window to make sure he wasn’t coming up behind me. Finally, I yanked the door open, hopped inside, locked the door, and started the beast’s engine. I didn’t look for other cars—I just pulled out and tore toward the exit, then checked my mirrors, but there was no sign of him following. My heart beat out of my chest as it looked for some kind of escape, and it only slowed when I got out of there and into a more populated area. At a stoplight, I pulled out my phone with shaky hands and called Brad. It went straight to voicemail again. Damn.

I jumped when the car behind me beeped. I looked at it in the mirror and then saw the light had changed. My foot moved to the gas, and I waved as I headed toward the highway. No streetlights lined the roads, and I realized that meant I got a nice panoramic view of the night sky. I no longer want that. “Breathe, Bree.” I lifted a hand from the steering wheel and saw it was trembling.

A truck came up on me quickly and rode my bumper. I tapped my brakes for him to go around if he wanted to pass. “Christ, is there something in the water tonight?”

I waved for him to go around, but he stayed glued to my bumper. Oh no, it has to be him! Then, like that night Brad and I were followed, a giant light bar was turned on, and I was blinded. I quickly tilted my mirror and stepped on the gas.

“Ah!” I swerved to the side as I tried to blink away the black spots. Goose bumps broke out across my skin. My foot pushed harder on the gas, and my old truck fought to pick up speed. “Come on, girl,” I begged as I squinted at the lights behind me. This guy was psychotic! He sped up and matched my speed without hesitation. I swung over to the opposite side of the road, and he followed. I moved back, and he mirrored me. I grabbed my phone and tried Brad again. “Come on, come on! Fuck!” His phone must have been turned off. “What detective turns off his phone!” I shouted in anger. I needed something to control my fear.

Bang! The truck hit my bumper, and I was thrown forward hard against the wheel.