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“All right,” I say, trying to keep the disappointment out of my voice. “If that’s what you want.”

“It’s what I know is right. At this moment.”

I snuggle into his shoulder then. I inhale his musky scent, kiss his chest, and then close my eyes.”

I jerk awake. The room is dark, and for a moment a sharp spike of fear slides through me. I don’t know where I am—

I heave a sigh of relief when I realize I’m still at Luke’s apartment. I remember falling asleep in his arms, feeling so safe and secure.

I reach toward him, and—

Where is he?

Probably in the bathroom. I look toward the door leading to the bathroom, but there’s no sliver of light at the bottom. He probably just got up to go and didn’t bother with the lights. Didn’t want to wake me.

I draw in a deep breath, stretch my arms above my head. Relaxation swirls through me, and I close my eyes. I imagine myself lying on a beach, the sun streaming down on me, warming my body and my soul. In the distance the waves crash, and I feel at home.

So at home here with Luke.

Soon I’m asleep again.

46

Luke

The bus station is eerily quiet at three in the morning. I didn’t think anyone in Manhattan ever slept. I’m not looking forward to a cross-country bus ride, but I’ll be able to keep much more under the radar than if I tried flying or renting a car.

I bought my ticket with cash, and now I wait.

Until—

Something nudges the small of my back.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” a deep voice says.

“Who the hell are you?” I begin to look over my shoulder but—

Fuck. It’s a gun. It nudges harder into my back.

“You really didn’t think you could hide from us, did you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, willing my voice not to crack.

I can handle whoever this is. I’ve handled worse.

Of course… When I had to handle worse, I wasn’t a fucking stool pigeon.

“I think you know where this ends,” the voice says.

“We’ll see where it ends.” I scan the station.

I see one security guard. Just one. No police officers.

I’m not sure how I can get the security guard’s attention. I’m not sure if I even want to. Whoever this is, if he’s anything like I used to be, he’s already taken care of the security guard.

“What the fuck do you want ?” I say through gritted teeth.

“Not much,” he says. “Just your big head on a fucking silver platter…Lucifer Raven.”

* * *


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Tags: Helen Hardt Romance