Page 54 of Sight of Fate

I thought a date would be like one of my daydreams where I say and do all the right things in this sexy, flirtatious voice. Instead, I opened my mouth, and all my anxiety and insecurities poured out. I stuff the pillow over my face and let out a short scream.

Here I am. Safe with a dream job. Gorgeous apartment. And I still have boxes sitting in my living room. I glare at them. Sweeping back the comforter, I slip my feet into my fuzzy slippers and march toward the kitchen to make some coffee. Meticulously following the instructions, I stand there waiting for the espresso to brew. A minute later, I add all the extras and take a sip. Mmm. Without thinking, I reach out to Teague through our connection.

I did it. Made my first delicious coffee.

Much better than jumping in a cold car and heading down to the coffee shop, isn’t it? We’re leaving in five. I don’t know how strong our connection will be while I’m away. Call if you need me.

Be careful.

For the first time, it hits me how dangerous this could be, and I bite the inside of my cheek at the thought of anything happening to him. And Macklin. Last night, he said they thought whoever captured Mavros was organized and well-funded and likely responsible for quite a few disappearances. A shiver runs down my spine. I know how it feels to be hunted. Hopefully, Mavros will lead us to Raine and the girl.

There’s a slight commotion in the hall, and I lightly run to the door and peer through the peephole, but the bodies walking by are a blur. Unable to help myself, I reach for the connection. One man slows, and I see Teague’s sterling blue-grey eyes for a brief second. His hand lifts halfway, then drops back to his side. A microsecond later, they’re gone.

I slowly walk back to the sofa and finish my coffee. Barely seven in the morning. On a Sunday. What did I do before when I had all these hours to fill?

Reluctantly, I get out my laptop and log in to the job portal. I finished the character drawings last week, but I have yet to search for something new. Knowing I won’t get my first paycheck from Granite Securities for at least another week, I haphazardly search for a new gig, but after ten minutes of scrolling through endless jobs, I drop my head back. I’m not in the mood.

Sun shines brightly through the window, and I jump up. It’s a perfect day for strolling around downtown Greystone. I take the last sip of coffee and fold my makeshift bed, then head toward my closet. Let’s see. Green sweater. Black sweater. Navy sweater. Light grey sweater. I grab the navy along with a worn pair of jeans that have seen better days and my sneakers. Finishing up with teeth and hair, I slip the lodestone over my neck and head out the door.

I tip my face to the sun and the warm rays. Nothing like the south but not too bad for the mountains. I laugh. Either I’m getting more acclimated, or it’s actually warmer today.

Quiet descends like a weighted blanket in my mind, and for the first time since I arrived, I feel like myself again. Self-sufficient. Doing my own thing. I stroll down Main Street, careful not to brush up against anyone, while I take stock of the stores.

The smell of fresh-baked bread lures me into a shop on the corner where I find loaf after loaf along with a plethora of desserts and pastries, waiting for me to take them home. I snag a croissant for breakfast, a cupcake for the afternoon, and a small piece of banana bread to eat for breakfast the next couple of days. Unable to wait, I pull off a piece of the flaky croissant and stuff it in my mouth. Mmm. I almost wish I hadn’t found the little bakery. This could be dangerous. I step out and walk right into someone.

“Sorry, I….” I stop when I see Martin standing there with bloodshot eyes and a twisted smirk on his scruffy face.

“Well, if it isn’t the bitch who got me fired,” he sings, the strong scent of alcohol making me scrunch up my nose.

Not wanting to encourage him, I step to the side and dip my head. “Martin.”

He slides in front of me, blocking the way. “I saw Teague and his little friends boarding a helicopter a little bit ago. Guess that means you’re here all by yourself. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.” His fingers wrap around my elbow and dig in deep.

I flinch. “What do you want?”

“My job back,” he says with a hiccup. “And you on your knees giving me the apology I deserve.” He cups his crotch, and disgust rolls over me. “I worked for Granite Securities for ten years, and they fire me over a piece of ass?” Something ripples across his skin.

What is he? Frantic, I yank on my arm, trying to get free, but he uses his body to shove me into the nearby alley and up against the brick wall. Rancid breath fills my nostrils, and my stomach heaves. I’m going to throw up. His knee slides between mine.

I immediately reach for the connection. Teague!

The string between us stretches and vibrates, but his reply is muffled, then silent. My phone rings, and I try to grab it, but Martin snatches both my arms and twists them behind my back. I’m on my own. I brace my foot on the brick wall and shove with all my might. He doesn’t budge.

“Martin, I suggest you release her,” a familiar voice demands.

Martin glances over his shoulder and stiffens.

With his head out of the way, I see Maureen’s eyebrow arch high as she waits for him to comply.

Martin curses and lifts his hand away from me. “Keep your hands to yourself.” He mutters to Maureen, then looks at me. “Another time, darlin’.” He scurries away as if he’s afraid of Raine’s mother.

Interesting. Is it because she can access memories?

“Heard from Raine yet?” Maureen asks, her voice curt.

“No,” I tell her, silently debating the wisdom of giving her my number. Raine’s her daughter, I remind myself as I pull out my phone. “Why don’t you add your number, and if she contacts me, I’ll call you?”

She snatches it from my hand and quickly types in her number. “Call me any time. Doesn’t matter.” She hands it back, then turns to walk away. “Oh, and stay away from Martin. He’s bad news.”