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ChapterEight
Ariana stared at the text. Damon knew she was following Boone? How’d he figure that out?
She sat in her car across the street from the house Boone had gone into a full hour earlier. He might not notice her car by itself, but if Damon pulled up in his their neighbor would surely recognize the two together.
Another text came in. Damon repeated his question. He wanted to know why she was following Boone.
Wasn’t it obvious?
She sat up and glanced around the neighborhood. Checked her mirrors. Didn’t see him.
Good.
Somehow Damon had figured out she was following Boone, but he didn’t know where she was.
After the third text, she started tapping a response. Then stopped. Considered her wording. She could easily end up worrying him if she wasn’t careful.
A fourth text came in.
He was nothing if not persistent. It was one of the many qualities she loved him for, yet it drove her crazy at the same time.
She sent a quick message.
Ariana: I’m fine. Love you.
Damon: Where are you?
Ariana: In my car.
Damon: Don’t do this to me.
Guilt stung. It wasn’t like she was trying to keep him in the dark. She didn’t want to pull him into this. If Boone caught her spying, she would deal with him herself.
Damon: I’m starting to worry.
Ariana: He’s inside a house. I want to see if anyone comes out with him.
Damon: Address?
Ariana: It’ll be suspicious if both our cars are out here.
Damon: I don’t trust him.
Ariana: I’m not going to confront him.
Not yet, anyway.
Damon: Let me help you.
Ariana: I’m just gathering information.
Damon: That’s the detective’s job.
Ariana: She’s not here. I am.
She could almost hear him grunt in frustration.
Damon: Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving?
