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“It’s South Beach,” I replied. “It’s always a good morning for a run.”

He shrugged.

“Guess so,” he said. “I’m not from around here, so I typically hit the gym. Too cold for outside running.”

He tapped his sunglasses up with one finger, and I could see a bullet tattooed on the inside of his wrist. It was one of those brothers-in-arms symbols, marking him military. There were more words on the inside of his right arm and down his left side, but I couldn’t make them out.

The guy was looking at me and appraising me as much as I was appraising him, maybe even more so. I tensed, suddenly anxious. I wasn’t sure if he was spoiling for a fight or actually checking me out in some other way, but I didn’t like it—not at all.

“Who the fuck are you?” I asked.

He smirked.

“Well,” he said slowly, “I’m not the pheasant plucker.”

I narrowed my eyes and looked him over again. I thought about his words, and determined the guy must be high or something.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“It’s a tongue twister,” he said. “Haven’t you ever done tongue twisters?”

I glared, and he laughed.

“I’m not the pheasant plucker,” he said again and much faster, “I’m the pheasant plucker’s son. I’m only plucking pheasants ‘til the pheasant plucker comes.”

He stood up, adjusted the sunglasses again, and gave me another half smirk.

“Here’s the catch,” he added. He briefly pointed his finger at me like a gun. “You’re the pheasant.”

One more smirk flew at me before he turned and walked away. I stood there at the edge of the water with a sense of dread and just watched him walk off. By the time I had collected myself enough to run up the beach with the intention of beating an explanation out of him, he had disappeared.

A week went by, but I didn’t see him again. Thoughts of the strange encounter became a faint memory. My routine continued. I still went to Bar Crudo most days, but I didn’t feel as much of an urge to order something. I usually left feeling pretty good, and I even called John Paul to tell him his advice had helped. Raine seemed really happy I’d found something to occupy my time, and I was a little less irritable.

I’d even found a dude named Zack at the gym in the condo building who didn’t totally piss me off. He was a big guy like me and spotted me a few times for bench presses.

“Thanks, bro,” I said as he helped me rack the bar. “See ya tomorrow.”

“No problem,” Zack replied.

I took the stairs from the top floor gym down to the fourth floor. I caught my breath at the landing outside our condo and then proceeded to the door. As soon as I opened it, I paused.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, and I held my breath. My fingers tensed reflexively, and my body went on alert.

Nothing was out of place. Everything was exactly how I had left it a couple hours ago. There wasn’t anything missing, moved to the side, or disturbed in any way. There weren’t any abnormal smells in the condo, and the balcony door was closed and locked from the inside. I still knew it, though.

Someone had been in here.

I felt my skin crawl, and I continued to hold my breath as my eyes scanned the room to find…nothing. I let the air out of my lungs and took a few steps inside. I stealthily made my way through every room, but the only evidence of an intrusion was the tingling in my spine and the raw, gut instinct that came from spending years watching my back to stay alive.

Maybe John Paul was fucking with me.

I knew he wasn’t though. Not only was it not his style, he also knew such actions could get him killed before I would realized he was the intruder. John Paul wouldn’t break into my apartment because he wouldn’t have a reason to do so. He also had no skills when it came to breaking and entering.

I shook my head to try to get the tension out of my body, but it didn’t work well. I wondered if I was just on edge because of what John Paul had said, but I dismissed the idea immediately. I would be the first person to admit I had the occasional attack of paranoia, but this didn’t feel the same—not at all. My fingers were twitching, clutching slightly, as if they’d like to wrap themselves around a shot glass about now.

Fucking fabulous.

A noise at the door caused me to startle, and God knows what Raine saw in my eyes when she opened the door, but her expression went from a smile to wide-eyed fear in a split second.


Tags: Shay Savage Surviving Raine New Adult