Page 7 of The Shadow

“M-m-my what?”

His smile is pure evil. “You wouldn’t want the world thinking you’re a home-wrecker, would you? Fucking a married man, tsk, tsk.” He shakes his head. My entire body goes cold, the sound of rushing water flooding my ears as my vision begins to blur. “And don’t think for one second that just because I’m on that recording with you I won’t spread it around like wildfire. If you dare to defy me on this, by the time it sees the light of day, my divorce will be settled. But even if it wasn’t”—his hand springs upward and grabs my throat, his fingers digging into my flesh causing my air to be restricted—“I’d still burn my entire fucking world down if it meant taking you down with me.”

Then he releases me, opens my apartment door, and slams it behind him as I gasp for air. I stumble backward, clutching my small kitchen island as my stomach rolls and tears spring to my eyes.

I never thought taking this job a year ago would change my life in the way it has. Had I known the kind of man Connor Blake was, I never would have trusted him.

I never would have fallen prey to his boyish charm and vulnerable nature.

I never would have gone out for a drink with him while he cried about his dead wife.

And I never would have invited him back to my place that night when everything changed.

Chapter 4

Harvey

Iwatch my phone screen, the undetectable camera facing the hallway alerting me that there’s been movement. The moment I saw Aspen’s face, I had that feeling again, the same one I’ve had the last few times I’ve seen her.

Listen to your gut. There’s something not right.

I squint, peering through the peephole as I watch the man who left her apartment punch the elevator button. He glances to his right, then his left, pulling out his phone and taking a call before stepping into the elevator. Once the doors shut, I open my own door and walk toward Aspen’s apartment.

My hand pauses halfway to her door as I lean my ear against it. There’s no sound coming from the other side. I continue my movement, rapping my knuckles against the door with three quick taps.

“Aspen?” I say her name, hoping that if she knows it’s me, she’ll open it. I knock again when there’s no movement. This time, I hear the lock slowly move, then the handle turns and the door opens slightly.

“Yes?” Her timid voice sounds shaky but once she sees that it’s me, she opens the door a little wider. “Hey, Harvey.”

I wave awkwardly, quickly transitioning to running my hand through my hair. “Sorry to bother you, but are you okay?”

She stares up at me, her eyes wide. They shift from side to side quickly, then back to me. “Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

I nod my head slowly, realizing that whatever is going on with her, she clearly has no interest in telling me about it.

“Actually, I really came over to ask if you wanted to grab a drink.”

“Oh.”

It’s a lie but I learned a long time ago that sometimes you have to lie if it means protecting someone.

“Doesn’t have to be a drink, could be food.” I try to stand in a nonintimidating manner, but it’s damn near impossible when you’re my size and towering over a mouse of a woman. But I don’t back down, don’t give her the out, just another option.

“A drink would be great.” She still has the door practically closed around her shoulders. “Let me just grab my purse.” She closes the door briefly, only reopening it enough to squeeze between the door and the frame when she exits her apartment. Clearly, Aspen Wilder isn’t fond of people in her home which makes me wonder all the more who the bastard was that so boldly pushed himself inside earlier when her face made it clear she didn’t want him there.

Her arms are clutching her purse as she hugs it against herself. I look down at her slight frame, her delicate shoulder looking dwarfed beneath her oversized blouse. She doesn’t look at me in the reflection of the door. She just stares straight ahead, her body rigid.

My all-black ensemble is a stark contrast to the pale-gray of her skirt and the cream of her sweater. It’s not her usual style of bright floral dresses and buttons that look like strawberries.

“You know, you always remind of me of Strawberry Shortcake.”

Her head snaps up, her eyes meeting mine as a warm smile stretches her lips. “Thank you, I loved Strawberry Shortcake as a kid so that’s a lovely compliment.” Her voice is airy, light like a whimsical whisper.

“You been to Jaspers?” I point toward the small martini bar at the far corner of the block. “Good drinks and less than a block away.”

“I haven’t but sounds good.”

I don’t touch her as we walk down the sidewalk after noticing the way she flinched when the man earlier invaded her space. We take a seat in a small booth in a far corner of the mostly empty bar, placing our order with the waitress and settling into our seats.

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