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Lightseepsthroughmyclosed eyes, and my lashes slowly flutter open. It takes me a second to recognize my surroundings. The confusion happens more than I would like to admit. I try to remember how I got in my bed, but my mind is blank. I recall fighting to keep my eyes open, but that’s about it. I’m still fully clothed, which is nothing out of the ordinary. I like falling asleep in my clothes. It makes it easier to wake up and go if I have to.
I jolt upright when I remember Max being in my house.Did he put me in my bed?It’s driving me crazy that I can’t remember. Never mind that the MC will be coming for me once Ben runs back and tells everyone where I am.I have to leave. I frantically go to my dresser, tossing my limited belongings into my suitcase. A few items land outside my target while others land part way in, before the slight melody of classical music strums its ways between the walls and me.
Pausing, I try to gauge where it’s coming from before shoving the clothes inside and zipping it up. My hand pulls on the handle, bringing it to my living room before letting go. That soft sound has me curiously walking toward the melody, its invisible notes pulling me along to open my front door. The door is locked and I breathe a sigh of relief. I had to have put myself to bed.
Trying not to make a sound, I turn the handle and step out. Max is writing equations on a small white board, his head not looking up as I step outside. I stand there, leaning against my door, taking all of him in. He’s incredibly sexy with his messy, wet hair and his forehead scrunched in concentration. His button-up shirt is open, displaying his chiseled torso. My eyes refuse to look away as I gawk at him for a moment or two before I kick myself for openly checking him out.
“Is studying the only thing you do for fun?” I ask, stepping closer to him.
He laughs. “It helps me focus my mind. Otherwise, I get fixated on stuff.” He has this boyish smile that has my heart fluttering.
“Like you’re fixated on that board?”
He considers my comment. “I guess, but it also helps to keep my mind from wandering to a hundred different things.”
I take a seat on the stairs of my porch, looking out into the gorgeous treed area. The soft music is calming, coaxing my muscles to relax, and the sun warms me.
“Thank you for last night,” I say quietly, not making eye contact.
The crunch of the gravel has our heads lifting to the sound. A police car slowly drives down the driveway. My heart rate spikes, its natural reaction to authorities, even though I have no reason for it. Cops always do that for me. I swipe my clammy palms over my pants.
The officer steps out of the car and takes off his hat. “Sorry to bother you, Sienna and Max.” I don’t know how he knows my name, other than this is a small town.
“I just wanted to come up here and let you know there was an animal attack in these parts last night.” The cop looks around the area, concerned etched across his face. “Seems to have been a tourist hiking by themselves. Do you recognize this man? We’re trying to identify him.” The cop holds up a photo of Ben.
Max steps closer. “Can’t say I’ve seen him before, sorry. Just the other day, I had to scare a bobcat off my deck,” he replies. I watch as Max shows no signs that we know the man in the picture.
“So did I. I had to honk my horn to get it to leave,” I confirm.
My heart is hammering my ribs. My short fingernails scrape against my palm as I look for an easy exit to run toward.
“If you’re walking alone out here, make sure to carry bear spray on ya, Sienna,” the officer lectures, his chest expanding. He hooks his one hand on his belt, drawing my eyes to the gun holster attached to him. My eyes draw back up and I look at his badge: Clayton McCain.
“Will the man be alright?” I ask, forcing worry into my tone.
“No ma’am. Unfortunately, he didn’t make it. We’re trying to find his next of kin.”
Relief floods my core and I nod, not saying any more.
“Have a good day now.” Officer McCain walks back to his car and reverses out of the property.
I take a seat back on my porch, my legs unable to hold me up. Out of the corner of my eye, Max goes back to the problem he was working on before I came out.
We sit in silence, my mind whirling with immense relief. I would have thought silence would be uncomfortable, but it’s not. I sneak a glance at Max. Why did he lie? The question circles around in my head for long minutes until I blurt out, “Why did you lie?”
“I figured you wouldn’t want to have this town all up in your business.” He shrugs, but his eyes stay on mine. It’s unnerving and feels as if he’d be able to dig up everything I’m trying to hide if he worked hard enough.
“I appreciate that. But you didn’t have to.”
“I know that. I did it for you,” he says with sincerity.
My ears whoosh at the extra blood pumping through my veins. Anxiety is a bitch. I’d love to kick her down to the curb and walk right over her. I don’t trust men. It’s never worked out in my favor before.
Chapter 8: Max
“Ihaveajobfor you,” my brother, Romeo, the Don of the Mancini family says over the phone.
“How the hell are you calling me?” No one is supposed to have this number. “Now I have to get a new burner phone,” I complain, cleaning up the mess my latest victim made in my shed.
