Page 24 of No Good Fight

I should be grateful.

Instead, it unsettles me more than if he’d pushed.

I turn and start toward my car, forcing my steps to stay even. My heart is still beating too fast, and my skin still remembers his touch, and I keep waiting for him to say my name again.

He doesn’t.

Which is also annoying.

I’m halfway down the block when I see the SUV.

It’s parked at the far end of the street, half-hidden behind a delivery truck, dark paint catching the sun. The windshield is angled wrong for me to see inside. For a moment, everything narrows to the shape of it, the shine of the hood, the impossible stillness of a vehicle that suddenly feels like it’s been waiting.

My keys bite into my palm.

I stop walking.

The brake lights come on.

“No,” I whisper, because apparently I have reached the stage of fear where I am negotiating with cars.

The SUV pulls away from the curb.

This time, I move faster, stepping toward the street to catch the plate, but a sedan passes between us and by the time it clears, the SUV is already slipping into traffic.

Gone.

Again.

My pulse climbs high enough to make me lightheaded.

For one second, I do exactly what I told myself I wouldn’t do.

I look back toward the coffee shop.

Toward Ryder.

He’s still there, standing outside with one hand braced against the doorframe, watching me instead of pretending not to.

Seeing him there makes it easier to breathe.

The SUV disappeared into traffic before I could catch the license plate.

But standing beside my car with my pulse climbing and Ryder’s touch still warm against my skin, I can’t stop thinking the same thing over and over.

How is my life so fucked up?

4

RYDER

By the time Alex lied and told me she was fine, I already knew something was drastically wrong. I just didn’t know what.

Alex walked away from me with her shoulders too tight and her keys clenched hard enough to whiten her knuckles. She was trying to look calm, which meant she was scared enough to make a production out of hiding it. I watched her cross the sidewalk toward her car while everything in me strained to follow.

I didn’t move at first. I made myself stay by the coffee shop door with one hand braced against the frame, because the last thing she needed was me chasing her down the block after she’d already pulled away.

Then I saw the SUV. Again.