Page 15 of Her Silver Fox Mountain Men

All I can do is smile. “I can get the girls some freshly squeezed orange juice if they’d like.”

“That’s more like it.”

As I head back to the counter, I steal a glance over to the front of the diner, its massive windows and glass-paned double doors giving me a clear and full view of Roker Street—the main artery of this quaint but charming town.

For a fleeting second, I see him. A flash of his profile.

My stomach tightens as dread clutches at my throat, its claws piercing through the very fabric of my being.

I can’t move.

“Igor,” I whisper the name I wish I’d never have to utter again.

A moment later, he’s gone.

“Elise?” Debbie calls out from behind the counter with a mouthful of scone.

“Be right back,” I mumble. I set the coffee pot on the nearest table, then dash right out of the diner, my heart beating a million miles a minute.

Looking up and down Roker Street, I can’t spot him anywhere. Did I actually see him? Really? There’s no sight of him, just a handful of people heading to work. Average, everyday folks with familiar faces and tired smiles. Folks I have come to know rather well, albeit from a safe distance.

No Igor. No dark suit and charming smirk. No sharp cheeks and oversized confidence. I can’t feel the icy current that his presence used to give me. Maybe it was nothing more than an illusion after all.

I shudder even though it’s unseasonably hot at this hour, especially for a town at the base of the Rocky Mountains. Shivers dance down my spine as memories flood my mind and fill my eyes with tears. I rub my hands up and down my arms and blink it all away, refusing to cave in. I’ve come too far to go back, even an inch.

Once I’m back inside the diner, I desperately cling to my routine and service my tables.

“Are you okay?” Debbie asks as she comes over with Mrs. Pennywise’s empty breakfast plates.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I reply.

“You don’t look fine.”

“I am, I promise.” I chuckle nervously. “It’s just… I thought I saw someone.”

“Someone you know?”

“Yeah.”

She looks back at the front doors. “And?”

“It was just my imagination. It’s all good, Debbie; don’t worry about it,” I say and head to my dockworkers to clear their table.

“I’m not worried, babe. You just looked like you saw a ghost or something.”

Maybe I did. Crippling fear can elicit that reaction.

I came so far to get away from him. What are the odds he’d find me here in the middle of effing nowhere, a few states over? It’s a small town, off the beaten path. I’ve been using cash only. I have a new email address and I’m staying off social media sites. I only call my brother using burner SIM cards and I changed my phone number. I’ve been so careful.

It couldn’t have been him.

It had to be my mind playing tricks on me.

I guess it’s what happens when you’re hiding, when you’re trying to outrun something you know you might not be able to. When you become fully aware that it’s only a matter of time before itcatches up with you.

Behind the diner, there’s a narrow and semi-dark alleyway where Debbie used to go for a smoke. It’s also where the diner’s loading bay is, so it’s usually blocked with supplier trucks. Today, however, it’s empty. It’s just me and the trash cans, taking a break. My mind is swirling with the worst-case scenario thoughts I usually try to avoid as I take out the burner phone I use to call my brother. I miss him.

Two rings in he picks up.

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