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“You’re not hurt? Do you need to go to the hospital?”

Her head whips in my direction. “No! I’m fine. I just need to get out of this town and away from him.”

“Okay. Just checking,” I say and turn my attention to the road.

Most victims don’t want to talk. They’ve worked so hard to get up the strength to leave that they need time to decompress once they’re safe and on their way to freedom. At least, that’s my take on the situation.

So I shut my mouth to give the woman what she needs.

Chapter 4

I pull into the parking lot and glance at the dashboard. I’m late. I look up. High beams blind me. At least the rain has stopped. I could barely see in front of me on the way here.

I park my car and get out.

“Sorry I’m late,” I say, rushing toward the male form beside the truck. “The rain came on so fast. Shit!” My foot lands in a puddle. “I forgot about these quick Florida rainstorms.” I shake my foot.

I can’t wait to go back to Texas.

I march toward the man waiting for me. The parking lot lights hit the man’s eyes.

Familiar sparkling gray eyes.

My legs jerk.

No! It can’t be possible.

Dirty-hands?

“You,” he says in a low growl, apparently just as confused as I am. “Are you following me?”

“Oh yeah.” I smirk, giving my wet foot one last shake. “That’s what I’ve been doing today.” I blow my hair out of my eyes. “I’ve been driving around in my car all day following you!” I stop and glare up at him.

He can’t be who I’m supposed to meet? Seriously? What are the odds?

I stretch out my hand. “I’m Harper James.”

“And?” His eyebrow lifts, not returning the welcome gesture.

“Great.” I pull my hand back. “She said she told you I was coming. Said she talked to—” I snap my fingers. “It’s a cat name, like Garfield, Tim—”

“Tom?” His forehead wrinkles. “FromTom and Jerry, the cat and mouse cartoon? Aren’t you a little young for the show?”

“I’m about the same age as you. And they’re classic.” Not to mention, I loved watching them as a child with my father and little brother.

“I’d take you more for a Gary follower.” He pauses.

I blink up at him.

“That yellow Sponge Guy,” he informs.

“I wasn’t a fan of theSponge Guy, and wasn’t he a snail?”

“Not a fan?” He snorts. “Snails are the underwater equivalent of cats.”

“I take it you’re a fan of— Felix!” I point at him. “Yes. That’s it! Felix. That’s who she talked to. She told him I was coming in her place.” I smile, proud of myself. I’m horrible when it comes to remembering names. “But I take it from the permanent scowl on your face that you’re not Felix and that he didn’t tell you about me? Come to think of it…” I shift my hip and cross my arms over my chest. “You don’t look like a Felix.”

“I’m Cole.” His jawline darkens.

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