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TEN
At my insistence,the tow truck parked my car in Rocco’s driveway instead of a mechanic’s shop. My job search needed to pick up speed quick, because I was all but stranded, now that my car was broken.
Unless I used Rocco’s truck, but I still felt pretty weird about that.
I’d been going along with everything since the beginning, trusting my gut. And I didn’t think that was a bad call, necessarily. But… it was intense.
And weird.
And… I really didn’t know how the next period of my life was going to look, which was pretty damn terrifying.
Rocky and I slipped into the house through the back door, and I sniffed the air.
Then frowned.
Was that… food?
Was someone cooking?
What the hell?
I glanced down at Rocky nervously and whispered, “Do you have a roommate?”
He blinked innocently at me.
The fact that he wasn’t concerned by whoever or whatever was cooking set me at ease, slightly.
Not completely, though.
I could see into the kitchen from where we stood at the back door, but I couldn’t see anyone inside it.
A pan sat on the stove though, with something that smelled freakin’ delicious simmering inside it.
My mouth watered.
Heavy footsteps sounded on the stairs, and my stomach clenched.
I’d walked out of a movie theater and into a damned horror movie.
This was it—the moment I got my head chopped off with an axe.
All because I decided I was on-board with having an instant platonic marriage.
Why the hell was I so gullible?
My fingers gripped Rocky’s fur tightly.
I should’ve run—why didn’t I run?
“Where have you been?” a low, gravelly voice asked.
My stomach clenched tighter.
Two more heavy footsteps sounded, and then I saw the toe of a thick black boot.
Shit.
Murderer—definitely murderer.
