Page 111 of Catch Me When I Fall

It had been a few weeks since Leo’s death, and the whole town assumed he was missing at sea. Grayson and I knew the truth. Sarah didn’t ask me too much about it, which was surprising. Even more surprising was Michael hadn’t questioned me about Leo’s disappearance. Grayson had told me he’d take care of it, but now, I was beginning to worry how, exactly, he took care of Michael.

On that thought, I pulled out my phone and shot a text to Grayson.

Me: Had to step out for Rossy.

Grayson: I know. I’m watching.

Last week, Grayson turned on the tracker in my phone, and when I wasn’t with him, he was watching me. I figured any other woman would be freaked out by that, but not me. It made me feel safe even when he wasn’t around. The day after, he left for Seattle for two days. He called me multiple times a day and stayed on the phone with me until I fell asleep at night. When he came home, I’d been in the shower, and he joined me, fucking me against the wall with a sense of unhinged urgency.

He hadn’t even taken his jeans off.

Things were good between us.

I was happy, and so was he.

Grayson and his team at Red Snake Investigations were looking into Robert, deeper than they had before, and the more they dug, the more worried I became. My dead husband had definitely been hiding something, and I was starting to think he was involved with the nightmare my father had been wrapped up in.

Trafficking.

Grayson and his boys told me not to worry. As for the woman, I hadn’t seen her in weeks, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t there, watching me. Jake had hacked into the Astoria traffic cameras, and after hours of watching footage, he caught a glimpse of the mystery woman. It was right before Thanksgiving, and she had been walking down the street, carrying a bag.

There was no telling if she was the one who’d written those notes. The only thing for certain that whoever had been leaving them was scared of Grayson. Since he returned, I hadn’t received a single one.

But that didn’t mean it was over.

I sent Grayson one more text as I got to the General Store, my heart pounding from the brisk walk, my cheeks hot.

Me: I can’t wait to be home with you.

I pulled the door open as I dropped my phone back into my coat pocket and was greeted with a whoosh of hot air. I unzipped my coat and gave a small wave to the owners behind the counter; Jimmy and Martha. They were nice people; I’d met them at Rossy’s Thanksgiving dinner a few months ago. Martha was Margie’s sister , who owned the famous Margie’s.

“Hey, Carrie,” Jimmy called, his weathered voice struggling to carry across the space.

“Hey, Jim!” I headed for the back of the store, where the office supplies were. It was a small section, tucked into the back corner, and only consisted of two shelves. Looking around, I noticed I was the only one here, which wasn’t surprising. Astoria was usually quiet on Sundays.

“The bookstore quiet today?” Jimmy called as I made my way through the aisles.

“Well, it is Sunday,” I teased.

“Sundays are my favorite,” he told me, chuckling a bit. “You need help finding anything, dear?”

“No, thank you. Rossy needs more printer paper,” I told him over my shoulder. I rounded the corner, passing the cleaning supplies, and came face to face with a wall of pens and pencils.

I spotted the paper on the bottom shelf and bent to grab a stack as I heard the door open, the bell signaling a new customer. I heard Jimmy greet the customer as I rose, tucking the packages of paper under the crook of my arm before turning on my heel to head to the front. I was about halfway there when a man stepped in front of me, cutting off my path.

I skidded to a halt before I ran into him.

He was tall, but not as tall as Grayson, and certainly not as fit. His height and his beer gut were the only things I could make out about him, given the dark coat and baseball cap he wore. He wasn’t paying any attention to me, though. I muttered an excuse me and squeezed around him, letting him continue his search for the right brand of ketchup.

I was about halfway down the next aisle when a hand covered my mouth, and I was suddenly yanked back. The paper fell from my arms as I tried to flee, but he was quicker.

The man’s body was pressed against my back then, his arm wrapped around my middle, pinning my arms to my sides, his fingernails digging into the arm of my coat. Immediately, fear had me in its grip, squeezing my neck, cutting off my airway. Nausea bloomed in my stomach, and my chest tightened as I felt his hot breath on the shell of my ear. “You’re a little chunkier than I’d thought you’d be, but that shouldn’t be a problem.”

Asshole.

I jerked against his hold, screaming into his hand as his arm tightened around me, crushing the bottom of my ribcage. He turned us, surging forward until my body slammed into the shelves, the entire unit shaking. “Need ya to hold still for a minute,” he grunted, pushing his hips into my butt. The arm banded around my mid-section loosened, and I took my opportunity, rearing my head back with growl.

The back of my skull slammed against his chin, pain splintering through my head.

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