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Tempted as I am to poke my head in and say goodbye, I stop myself.
I don’t want to remember the heated, passionate make out session we had on his desk, every inch of his muscular torso pressed up against me. I also don’t want to seem like I’m being clingy. I asked for space, and I need to take just that. Otherwise, I look like a hypocrite.
Besides, he’s busy.
He probably doesn’t want me to tell him goodbye for the night.
With my purse over one shoulder and my apron folded and tucked beneath my arm, I head out into the darkness and turn down the sidewalk. The black sky overhead is cloudy, blocking out any hint of moonlight, but streetlights and shop signs brighten the area as I walk the few blocks to my car.
I’ve made a habit of moving my car to a new parking lot every night to make it more difficult for the Sorenson pack to find me. If my car doesn’t linger in one place too long, they’re less likely to find it. At least, that’s my logic behind moving the car after every shift.
If they’re hunting me down, I don't want to make it easy on them.
Tonight, the car is parked in the lot of an abandoned strip mall with a few abandoned cars. It’s far from the safest place in the city, but after moving so many times, I’m running out of places to leave it without getting ticketed.
The parking lot is darker from a lack of streetlamps, but a single dim light spills a golden glow down onto my red sedan, and I quicken my pace as I hurry to the driver’s side. I fumble my keys out of my purse and unlock the door, diving inside and slamming it closed with my heart slamming.
I dump my belongings onto the passenger side floorboard, eager to get the air going to cool off the sweltering interior, when I notice something tucked beneath my windshield wiper. I stare at its dark shadow, trying to decipher was it is with the limited lighting, and ultimately roll my eyes.
It’s probably a blood drive pamphlet or something. They’ve been passing them out like confetti all week.
Cautiously peering outside to make sure no one is lingering, I open the door and snatch the paper off the windshield before ducking inside again and promptly locking the doors.
I’m picking a better lit parking lot next time.
I turn the paper over in my hand and quickly realize it’s not a pamphlet at all, but a handwritten note, and my stomach drops. What if it’s from the building owner telling me to move my car from the premises before they have it towed? Not the worst thing in the world, but I didn’t think an abandoned lot would be an issue.
Then, a second later, my heart flutters at the thought of it being from Alessandro. I recall the last note he’d written when he gave me the gift card, but there aren’t any traces of bourbon or rustic smoke when I bring it to my nose.
Good job, Jessa. If this page is coated with toxic chemicals, you’ll be on the news tomorrow night.
Of course it’s not from Alessandro. Why the hell would he leave a note on my car when he could have talked to me at work?
I need to go to bed.My brain clearly doesn’t function well this close to midnight.
Unfolding the paper, I stare down at the page to read the words printed there, and an icy wave rolls through my blood, nearly stopping my heart. I gasp, the air sticking in my lungs like glue, as I reread the words over and over again.
You can run, but you can’t hide.
My heart drops through my stomach like an anchor, and I choke out a breath, staring holes through the page. As the seconds tick by, my breathing picks up slowly, increasing in speed until I’m nearly hyperventilating.
I whirl around in my seat, frantically searching the parking lot for the faces I’m terrified to see, even though there was no one out there moments ago.
No.
How did they find me?
I’ve been so careful, so thoughtful. I did everything I possibly could have to keep out of sight, to fly under the radar and not draw attention to myself. I don’t even venture out in public, sticking to my car, Sal’s, and the little coffee shop down the street as much as possible.
This can’t be happening.
This can’t be happening.
A sob threatens to rip from my chest as I buckle my seatbelt and throw the car in reverse, pulling out of the parking spot and whipping onto the main street in a hurry. My thoughts are hazy, blurry as I speed through a yellow light and put as much distance between me and the abandoned parking lot as possible.
This is absolutely insane, nearly impossible to wrap my mind around.
Not only did my old pack find me, they left me a warning. A threat.
