Caleb stared at the screen.Ronan made it sound simple.But Ronan had Lila now.Someone who knew the truth.Someone who had chosen to stand beside him despite the danger.
Caleb had spent the last three years alone.It was safer that way.Cleaner.No one to worry about except himself.No one whose death would be his fault.
Enjoy your honeymoon,he typed.
I'll handle this.
I know you will.Be careful.
Always.
He pocketed the phone and signaled for more coffee.
Through the window, he could see Harper walking down Main Street, her bag over her shoulder, her head turning every few seconds to check her surroundings.Over a year of running had carved that habit into her bones.The constant vigilance.The inability to relax.
He understood that feeling.He lived with it every day.
He opened the tablet and began to read.And tried not to think about the way she'd looked at him when she said he was the first person who'd treated her like a person instead of a problem.Tried not to think about what it meant that he'd understood exactly what she'd meant.
Chapter 2
The walk back to Sarge's Sandbar took eleven minutes.
Harper counted.She counted everything now.Steps, seconds, the number of people who looked at her versus the number who looked through her.Seven people on Main Street this morning.Four glanced up.Three kept walking.None held her gaze longer than a breath.
Good.Forgettable.Exactly what she needed to be.
The road curved as it neared the water, storefronts giving way to a thrift shop, a furniture store with a hand-painted sign.She passed the fire department, one bay door open, an engine gleaming red in the shadows.Her shoulders ached from sleeping wrong, and the protein bar she had choked down before the bakery sat heavily in her stomach.
Sarge's Sandbar sat back from the road, a weathered building with a wide porch and a neon sign that probably glowed green at night.Behind it, tucked between sea grape bushes and wind-bent palms, four small bungalows faced the water.
Hers was the one farthest from the parking lot.Closest to the beach.Hardest to approach without being seen.
She had her key out before she reached the door.Unlocked it, stepped inside, and swept every corner with her eyes before she let herself exhale.
The window over the kitchenette was still latched from the inside.The thread she had placed across the closet door hung undisturbed.Her backup phone, taped beneath the bathroom sink, had not been moved.
Empty.Safe.
She sat on the edge of the bed, and her hands began to shake.
This always happened after.
The adrenaline would carry her through the danger, and then it would abandon her all at once, leaving her wrung out and trembling like she had run a marathon.She pressed her palms flat against her thighs and waited for the shaking to stop.
Caleb Rourke.For two months, he had been tracking her.Two months, and she had not known.
The thought sat in her stomach like ice water.She was supposed to be better than this.She had built her entire survival around being invisible, and someone had been watching her the whole time.
Her other phone buzzed.The burner she used to check on the life she had left behind.She pulled it out and read without unlocking the screen.
Three messages from her mother.
Please call me.
Your father asks about you every day.
I don't understand why you can't just tell me where you are.
