Page 44 of Heat Lightning

I didn’t choose what’d happened to me. I didn’t choose this bond, but I could choose how to move forward.

Okay, so. The Masked Man and I were bonded, and we needed to spend a heat together so we could reject the bond and go our separate ways. Phrased like that, it sounded easy.

But could I actually go through with it?

I wasn’t saving my heat for any particular reason, other than I just wanted to find the right person. Someone I connected with and who cared about me.

Maybe even someone who loved me.

I’d had sex before, but heat was another thing entirely, and I just wanted an alpha I knew I could trust to take care of me. Logically, a murdering stalker should be the last person on that list.

But he seemed genuinely desperate for this to end, and promised he wouldn’t hurt me. However, even if I were safe with him, sharing a heat was one thing, but knowing we were already partially bonded and would need to reject the claim was an entirely different beast.

What if something went wrong? What if we ended up accidentally bonded for real? What if he went back on his word and decided he did want to hurt me, after all?

He won’t, my omega whispered. That was a dangerous voice to listen to, because I wanted it to be true.

A rustle outside my window pulled me from my spiraling thoughts.

I sat up and held my breath. It was probably just the wind, right?

Another rustle—and then something brushed up against the house.

Slowly, I slid out of bed, careful to muffle my steps on the soft carpet. The shuffling continued, growing louder the closer I crept to the window.

A quiet curse made me freeze in place. I recognized that voice, dripping with dark intensity.

He was outside. Right now. I could sense him getting closer.

What the hell is he doing?

Well, he certainly wasn’t there to pull weeds.

Carefully, I leaned out the open window to catch a glimpse. Only to come face-to-face with the Masked Man.

TWELVE

MAX

“Aah!” The Masked Man cried out, lurching away from the house. His grip on the trellis slipped, and he fell backwards, landing with an “oof” in the flower bed below.

“Oh my God, are you okay?” I whisper-shouted.

He only groaned in answer and rolled onto his side.

Shit, shit, shit!

I quickly stepped back into the room, not knowing what to do. Was he injured? The fall wasn’t far, but landing would hurt like hell. I couldn’t just leave him there, could I? He might have broken bones or internal bleeding.

Fuck, what if he died out there in the yard? Would I go to prison?

Even worse, what if Enzo or Mr. Marino heard something and found him? Would he call the police and report a masked intruder in the bushes?

Of course he would, you fucking moron. That’s what normal people do!

I had to go get him.

There wasn’t time to dismantle the straps holding the stupid mask to my face, so I just kept it on and hustled outside as fast as possible. At the last second, I grabbed the serial killer knife—because we weren’t quite to unarmed greetings just yet—and turned the security camera mounted over my door away so it wouldn’t catch us.