I walked over and reached for the bag, but he was on my heels and caught my arm lightly, just a tap with two fingers against my wrist. My whole body went rigid.
“We’d hate for anything to happen to that pretty little girlfriend of yours,” he said, almost kindly. “She seems…special.”
A red haze flashed behind my eyes. It took everything I had not to drive my fist into his throat. Jasmine’s laugh, her stubborn chin, her big green doe eyes when she’d looked at me over her coffee that morning—all played like a split-second movie. And the final scene: her tied beside me, muzzle pressed to her temple, eyes wide with terror. His doing. I wanted to kill him with my bare hands.
I jerked my arm free, forced my tone flat. “I told you I’m working on it. You want to give me your number so I can keep you updated?”
The goon’s smile widened, amused. “Don’t worry. We’ll find you.” He leaned closer, his breath warm at my ear. “Just make sure you’ve got something worth saying when we do.”
I grabbed the paper sack from the counter, muttered thanks to the deli girl, and strode out into the Florida sun. My heart hammered, sweat prickled the back of my neck, every sense turned up to high volume.
The parking lot shimmered in the heat, asphalt wavering like water. I scanned every car, every shadow, half expecting to see backup leaning against a bumper. A white van idled near the propane tanks. A sedan with tinted windows sat too long at the edge of the lot. My pulse spiked, certain they were watching. But he seemed to have vanished as quickly as he appeared, out of nowhere. Back to nowhere. Or everywhere.
Climbing into the Jeep, my legs barely held me. The shakes took over my whole body. Fear and rage were indiscernible, equally pervasive and pulsing through me in a full blown assault. Hands locked on the wheel, forcing myself to breathe, the tears came. Not since my mother’s death had I cried like that. My reflection in the rearview looked wild-eyed, like a cornered animal.
Jasmine’s face swam into my mind. Her relief this morning when I’d told her Spence was in the loop. Her faint smile when I promised everything would be fine. And me, brushing off her worry with that hollow line—maybe they forgot.
I gripped the wheel harder, guilt rising like bile. They hadn’t forgotten. They were closer than ever. And she was still right in the middle of it.
I pulled out my phone and texted Jasmine:
Not trying to worry you, but be sure you keep the doors locked, just in case.
Text bubbles started immediately, and relief washed over me at that minuscule confirmation that she was okay.
I will. You just worry about catching our dinner.
I put the truck in gear, pulled out slow, then circled the block once, then twice, watching mirrors, checking if anyone followed. Paranoia clung like humidity, sticking to my skin.
This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.
CHAPTER 14
JASMINE
The morning sun penetrated the crack in the blackout curtains, a vertical column of light that made me squint. I wiggled from underneath Kai’s arm enough to grab my phone. Ten past eight. It dawned on me that I’d slept through the night for the first time since the attack. Nine nights of nightmares was more than enough. Maybe my nervous system was finally settling down. There’d been no sign of the smugglers looking for their drugs.
No news was good news, right?
Scrolling through the list of notifications, I clicked on an Instagram DM from Max, my manager at the bar:Sold your pelican tonight. Money is in the safe with your name on it.
Had my sexy boyfriend not been sleeping beside me, I would have squealed. Instead, I typed my response in silence.Slay! Thanks, I’ll pick it up tonight.
That was two paintings sold this week, and now there were none at the bar. I needed to finish my two works in progress today so they would dry before my shift. I slipped out from under thecovers and tiptoed from the room toward the kitchen. I put the tea kettle on to boil and spooned coffee grounds into the French press before I wandered over to the two easels tucked into the breakfast nook where a table should be. I’d moved it out to the living room my first week there so I could use the space with the best light for painting.
The good news was that they were both basically finished. They could use a few more accents to make them better, but I should be able to knock that out in a few hours, tops. With any luck, these would sell as fast as the last lot. The shrill whistle of the kettle made me hustle back into the kitchen. After pouring the water into the grounds, I lowered my nose over the steaming carafe. I enjoyed smelling coffee almost as much as I liked drinking it. While the java brewed, I returned to the easels and searched through my tray of acrylics, sifting through the tubes to find the colors that the paintings were missing. A little periwinkle here, a little saffron there. This would be a piece of cake.
Balancing two mugs in one hand, I twisted the bedroom doorknob. Kai looked so peaceful that I just stood watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest. He was the most beautiful man I’d ever laid eyes on, even sexier than his identical twin whom I’d rather forget. His tousled hair spilled over the pillow. Gently setting the mug on the nightstand beside him, I decided to let him sleep longer. I was almost to the door when Kai’s voice rumbled low, “Where you sneaking off to?”
“I’m not sneaking,” I giggled, caught in the act. “I thought you could use the sleep.” The stress had taken its toll on both of us.
“I think that’s the most I’ve gotten in one run since…” He stopped himself, the words hanging unsaid, heavy between us. Our secret seemed slightly less dire in the light of day.
Kai propped up on his elbow and reached for the mug beside him, hair a tousled mess, eyes still glazed with sleep. “Aww, did you leave me this before you tried to sneak away?”
“You’re welcome,” I teased. “Now I’m going to sneak out to finish my paintings.”
“What’s your hurry?”
