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His deep voice penetrates my soul and he isn’t trying to hide his accent anymore. It’s full-blown Russian. Jesus Christ, I hope this isn’t my stalker.
″Name sounds familiar. Think he is a billionaire or something around these parts. I’m not from around here, though.″
He chuckles. The hairs on the back of my neck stand tall and I force the shiver rolling through me to bare down. He cannot let him sense my fear.
″I know who you are to him, Haley Savino. Don’t play stupid with me.”
″Who I am to him?” I shrug. “Men like Callum Murphy don’t keep women like me close. I’m not sure what you’re getting at though. Care to get to the point before I’ve finished?”
″I have a message for him.”
″Great. Leave it with his answering machine.”
He grins, amused with my smart remarks. “This way speaks more volume. Being able to access you so easily. It’ll really piss him off.”
I weave the last stitch, cutting the end of the thread. “Listen, if you’re gonna kidnap me or whatever, let’s just get it over with, okay? I don’t have time for this bullshit.”
″Just tell him that he has something I want, and if he doesn’t give it to me, I’ll take something from him.”
″You mean me?” I snort, bandaging the wound with gauze.
Even though I’m trembling on the inside, I managed to remain calm during this vague, yet terrifying interaction.
″I do mean you, Dr. Savino.”
″Wonderful.” Nausea creeps into my stomach. ”Just a fair warning, I bite if I’m not fed. Make sure the van you shove me into comes with vodka and tacos.”
He stands, grabbing his jacket from the bed. “Pass it along, Haley.”
Chapter twenty-nine
Myheadfallsagainstthe pillow in my bedroom as the exhaustion from my sixteen-hour shift hits me. The last nine of that was spent in an intensive trauma surgery. My wrists ache from holding tools so precisely, so steady for such an extended period of time and my ankles throb from standing without much movement.
And my head throbs with a dull ache from dehydration.Pound. Pound. Pound.The rhythm is actually rather soothing.
So quiet here without Callum filling my bed. Where is he tonight?
I grab my phone beside me to check the time. Nine in the evening, and he hasn’t texted me all day. Maybe he is waiting for me to text him? I do tend to be the one who doesn’t text him first. He probably wants to see if I care.
I do care. I care so much it hurts when I’m not with him. So, I send him a text. Maybe he will swing by when he gets done doing whatever he is busy with.
″Texting Callum Murphy?”
What. The. Fuck.
I turn my head, catching sight of a hooded man standing at the threshold to my master bathroom.
My stalker.
Scotty isn’t here. He went with Cal and I had to walk home from work today alone.
Cillian still wasn’t here yet when I walked in.
No one knows I’m in danger. My heart speeds up, and I have to remind myself to breathe. This situation was inevitable. We knew I had a stalker. Now, with no back-up, I have to handle it myself.
At least it isn’t Jason.
He steps forward and I wish I had a light on to see him. He pulls back his hood, and shaking, I manage to push myself off the bed and away from him. That evil grin. The bright brown eyes that don’t meet his smile.
