Chapter Two
Mara Collins’s facestill burned where Grant Havelock, her dick biscuit of a boss who was apparently a rampant fucking criminal to boot, slapped her.
Not once.Twice.
The first time had been a shock.The second she had seen coming and knew it to be deliberate, meant to humiliate, to remind her how small she was supposed to feel sitting across the desk she’d worked behind for five years.By the grace of God, she’d made it out, but she was by no means out of danger.
She’d known it for three blocks now—long enough that denial had burned away, leaving only cold awareness behind her ribs.The city moved around her in its usual late-night rhythm—traffic humming, a bus exhaling at the curb, laughter spilling out of a bar doorway.Normal.Loud.Alive.
None of it touched her.
She didn’t look back.Looking back was how prey tripped.
She kept her shoulders hunched, breathing uneven, letting the world see exactly what she was, a shaken woman leaving work late, eyes glassy, steps unsteady.
Distraught sold better than defiant.She adjusted her pace by half a step, just enough to test the feeling that she was being followed by someone without advertising it.
The presence behind her adjusted too.
Her pulse kicked.
Okay, she thought.So, it’s not paranoia.
She kept walking.
She couldn’t go to the authorities.She had knowledge of more than one senior police officer who frequented the offices of Grant Havelock on a regular basis.That could not be coincidence.
Mara had learned how to disappear when she was young.Not the dramatic kind—no wigs or fake names—but the quieter version.Neutral clothes.Purposeful stride.Eyes forward.Don’t invite conversation.Don’t give men a reason to look twice.
Tonight, she was failing spectacularly.
Her phone vibrated in her hand, the movement pulling at her ribs where a fist had landed earlier.Not hard enough to break anything.Just hard enough to hurt.
Controlled.Measured.
That should have been her first real clue that they were after something more than what she had in her pocket.She didn’t check her phone immediately.Any sudden movement felt like a mistake.When she finally glanced down, her stomach dropped.
Unknown Number:You shouldn’t have taken those files.
Her fingers went numb.
She didn’t respond.She had a feeling that responding would be seen as confirmation.
