She’s twenty-three years old and more beautiful than any woman has a right to be, especially one who’s been missing since she was barely eighteen.
Peter’s little girl, all grown up and hiding in plain sight. The guilt threatens to choke me.
She has no idea who I really am. The same man who’s been hunting her for five years.
The same man who now has to figure out how to keep her alive while fighting the urge to finish what we started in that dressing room.
If I can’t protect her this time, she’ll be my failure all over again.
Chapter Three
Saylor
The applause dies down as I step off the stage, the spotlights dimming behind me. Eddie, our piano player, is already loosening his tie when I walk over.
“Not bad for a Thursday night,” he says, flexing his fingers. “Though you kept scanning the crowd during that last song.”
“Was it that obvious?” I lean against the piano, catching my breath.
“Only to someone who’s been watching you perform for two years.” Eddie starts gathering his sheet music. “Your mysterious friend from last night show up again?”
I glance around the cabaret. The crowd is thinning but there are still plenty of people nursing drinks at their tables. “He was here. Then he wasn’t.”
“Ah. The old disappearing act.” Eddie pauses in his packing. “That why you look like someone stole your favorite toy?”
“I don’t look like anything.”
“Right. And I don’t have arthritis in my left hand.” He grins. “So what happened? Guy seemed pretty into you last night.”
“Nothing happened. That’s the problem.” I run a hand through my hair. “He just... vanished. Right after my set.”
“Maybe he had somewhere to be.”
“Or maybe I’m reading too much into things.” I lower my voice as a couple walks past our corner. “Eddie, you ever get the feeling someone’s watching you? Like, really watching you?”
His expression shifts, becoming more serious. “All the time in this business. Why?”
“For the past week, I’ve felt like I’m being studied. Not the usual drunk patron bullshit—something different.”
“Then keep your eyes open. And maybe consider that hooking up with dark strangers in tailored suits isn’t the smartest move when you’re already feeling paranoid.”
“Oh, so now you’re my life coach?” I cross my arms. “What’s next, Eddie? Going to tell me to eat my vegetables and get eight hours of sleep?”
He chuckles, shaking his head. “Just saying, kid. Timing seems a little convenient, doesn’t it?”
“What, so I should swear off men because I’m feeling jumpy? That’s a fast track to becoming a crazy cat lady.”
Eddie laughs as he finishes packing up. “Fair point. Just... be careful, all right?”
“Always am.” I push off from the piano. “See you tomorrow night.”
But as I watch Eddie head for the exit, that crawling sensation between my shoulder blades gets stronger. Time to get out of here.
The ride to my apartment is silent except for the low hum of the engine and the city noise filtering through the windows. I lean forward in the backseat of the cab, watching the driver’s mirrors. There’s a black sedan three cars back that’s been behind us since we left the club. Could be nothing. Could be everything.
The driver doesn’t seem to notice my paranoia, or maybe he’s just used to neurotic passengers having breakdowns in his backseat.
When we pull up to my building, I notice another car parked across the street. A man sits behind the wheel, and when our looks collide in his side mirror, he looks away too quickly.
