Page 25 of Vengeful Secret

Sarah beams at me, and I remember why we’re such close friends. She’s a lovely person, underneath her outgoing persona, and she’s always been there for me when I needed her.

And she’s never once asked questions about Ciara’s father, which I appreciate.

I dig into my wings, but something raises the hair at the nape of my neck.

I’m not sure what it is, so I frown, turning around to see if maybe someone is staring at me.

All the other restaurant patrons seem focused on their food, but something just feels... off.

“Is there a weird vibe in here, or is it just me?"

Sarah’s brows draw together. She’s clearly puzzled. “I think it’s just you, babe. It’s Joe’s as always.”

I roll my shoulders around, trying to shake the strange feeling of being watched.

I’ve already finished most of my wings and hailed the server for a to-go burger for my mom, so I wipe off my hands with the wet nap and sit back from the table.

“Thaks for this, Sarah. I’ll pay next time we go out.”

She waves her hand dismissively. “You know I never mind treating you.”

I smile.

Sarah comes from money, and she’s always been generous. But I guess she can afford to be generous, with a trust fund plus what she makes working in the office at her father’s company.

As we walk out of the diner together, that feeling washes over me again, and I look behind me.

“Sutton? Are you all right?”

“Fine,” I mutter, scanning the people behind us, but there’s just an older woman walking with a cane and a couple of guys walking a little dog. There’s nothing at all suspicious.

Why am I feeling this way, anyway? Is it just because I saw Gray again? Am I looking for him around every corner or something?

“You sure? I can walk you to your car.”

“You’re parked the other way, it’s fine.” I give her a quick hug before heading to the parking garage.

She stares after me before shaking her head and then walking toward her car.

I keep glancing behind me as I walk, and I nearly miss the green light at the crosswalk because I’m so focused on trying to figure out who’s watching me.

Maybe I’m losing my mind.

The streets are dark, the night air chilly, and maybe I’ve just got the heebie jeebies or something.

I get into my car and the first thing I do is check my rearview mirror, as if there’s some psycho hiding in my backseat.

Of course, there isn’t.

I frown, humming a tune to myself to keep from freaking out.

Headlights pull out just as I pull out of the lot, and I keep glancing in my mirror as if somehow they’re following me.

I take a left turn, and so do they.

I swallow hard, my eyes barely on the road and mostly focused on the rearview mirror.

But when I turn onto the interstate, the car keeps driving past, and I take a breath, chiding myself for being so silly.

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