words trailed off as I looked up and down the street, at a complete loss. Was I going crazy? How had we gotten to the ground in one piece? How had Luke not seen us? Maybe I’d finally gone off the deep end. It sounded like a viable option.
I brushed a shaky hand against the small, velvet bag that was nestled against my chest, inside the suit. It was still there. My heart thundered against it, and I swore I heard the echo of the beat. The stress of the past few moments caught up with me, and I felt my knees begin to buckle.
I was in another nightmare. Except Luke didn’t have a starring role, and I couldn’t seem to wake up from this one.
Jax grabbed me around the waist before I crumpled to the pavement. He strode away from the building, half-dragging me beside him. “Let’s get you home and get you a drink. We have a lot to discuss.”
I stumbled along and felt my breath coming in short gasps, suddenly feeling uncomfortably awake and wishing I weren’t. Jax had caught me breaking and entering, we’d barely escaped my father’s sadistic enforcer by jumping from five stories up, and now he wanted to go get a drink?
The cool night air held the lingering scent of rain and the undertones of a flowering tree, but thankfully, no sound of sirens or alarms. I couldn’t remember the name of the tree, but the soothing ritual of identifying scents helped calm me down.
We arrived at my apartment on Seattle’s Capitol Hill a half hour later. My neck hurt from constantly looking over my shoulder for Luke or the police. I’d cringed at every shadow, real and imagined. Despite my paranoia, I hadn’t seen anyone on our walk beyond the late night partygoers.
I loved the area. It had a fun, funky feel and suited my business perfectly. My building was plain, but my neighbors were great. I had a Thai restaurant to the left and an accountant’s office to the right. Directly across the street was my favorite yoga studio. I didn’t have to venture far for anything. My shop was downstairs, and my apartment was upstairs. As an employee, Jax already had a key to the shop. Now, he held out his hand and demanded the key to my apartment.
Don’t ask me how I managed to fit a key in a leather catsuit. I did.
My limbs felt heavy with exhaustion. The long walk home hadn’t helped, but public transportation hadn’t been an option. I remained silent until Jax had pushed me inside and locked the door behind us.
“Am I dreaming? Because not one moment of the last twenty minutes has made much sense.”
Part of me was hoping he’d lie. Maybe Teryl would jump out from behind my favorite overstuffed chair and yell “You’ve been Punk’d!”
Life is never that easy.
“Elleodora,” Jax began.
“It’s Elle. Just Elle,” I grumbled. I’ve been telling him for two months to call me by my nickname. Only my father and my mother called me Elleodora. My mom had only used it when she was mad at me. My father used it as an insult.
Jax sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Putting extra emphasis on my name, he said, “Elle, I need to know how long you’ve been able to shadow.”
I still had no idea what he was talking about, so I turned away and walked into my small kitchen, and sagged into one of the chairs at my breakfast table.
I love my little kitchen. It smells like an herb garden. I keep pots of lavender, basil, thyme, and lemon balm on the counter. My favorite place to be is sitting at my table, holding a cup of hot tea. I’d found the round table at an antique shop and refinished it myself. The scrollwork on the pedestal leg shows old-fashioned craftsmanship at its finest.
The warm mocha color of the kitchen walls wraps around me like a cozy blanket. I can read the paper, eat in peace, or stare out the small window and watch people rushing by on the sidewalk below. I always find comfort here.
Tonight, that comfort eluded me. Instead, I felt cold and numb.
Folding my hands on the table, I let my head sink onto them. My breath shuddered through me as I tried to let the weight of my tension slowly slip away.
If my father had Luke on the job, it would only be a matter of time before he found me. I