Great. When Hunter rode his bike on the trails, it didn’t calm him down—it wound him tighter—fueling his obsession for me. Maybe it was the adrenaline. All I knew was that when he fucked me after a ride, I ended up with bruises and bite marks that lasted weeks.
Katie: How’s your ankle?
Waiting on the results.
Shit. Graham’s coming over tonight—with Hunter. What if I can’t handle both of them?
You’re gonna be fine. Besides, Hunter’s never been with you and a man you love… I’d be surprised if he even let Graham have a chance.
That’s what I’m worried about.
I should text him.
Let me know how it goes.
I backed out to the main menu and tapped Hunter’s contact photo.
Hey baby, I can’t wait to be with you tonight.
The door opened, and Graham stepped in with Bishop behind him.
“Well, Maggie, I’ve got good news and bad news,” Bishop said, pulling up the X-ray results on his tablet.
I slipped my phone back into my clutch, trying to shove the thought of a pissed-off Hunter and an overprotective Graham in the same room from my mind.
“You didn’t break anything, so that’s the good news,” he continued. “But you’ve got a mild strain. It’s going to be sore for a few days—keep it elevated and ice for fifteen to twenty minutes at a time to keep swelling down.”
I glanced at my ankle. The dull throb always started up the second I thought about it.
“Okay, thank you,” I said, relief and embarrassment tangling in my voice.
“If you don’t have any questions, I can get you set up for discharge.”
“I don’t—” My words stalled as I met his eyes. They were still glowing. “I don’t have any questions.”
At least none that wouldn’t piss Graham off—or sound like I was accusing my nurse of supernatural crimes.
“Alright then.” Bishop stood, the stool wheels squeaking softly beneath him. “I’ll be back in a flash.”
Maybe I was overreacting.
Graham might have been right—maybe Bishop was just an empath or something. I could always ask the aunts; they’d know. And if my powers were still developing, maybe I hadn’t sensed other empaths—or whatever he was—around town yet. Maybe my body just wasn’t ready to notice them.
But… what if I wasn’t overreacting?
What if Bishop really did have something attached to him? What if that something was dangerous? What if it was behind those murders?
What if he was the Midwest Killer and the new guy was copying him?
My skin prickled at the thought.
Oh god.
Speculating wouldn’t help—it only made my pulse race faster. The air in the room suddenly felt thin, pressing at my chest like a warning.
I needed to get out of here.
chapter 7
