Page 164 of Menace in Vegas

Someone’s watching us.

There’s a shift in the air. A prickle of unease crawling up my spine. My body stills, keyed up like I’m about to drop gloves on the ice.

And then I see him.

He’s across the street. Hoodie pulled low. Odd choice for Key West humidity.

He’s half in shadow, just beside the smoothie shack. Not even pretending to blend in.

Just… watchingher.

When I turn to face him, he ducks behind a sign.

But it’s too late. I already clocked him.

The stance. The stillness. That kind of focused stillness only means one thing. Intent.

My grip on Allie’s hand tightens.

She glances at me, sensing the shift. “What’s wrong?”

My voice is flat. Sharp. Controlled. “Just thought I saw someone.”

“Who? Peyton?”

I scan the street again.

Nothing. Just tourists, sun hats, and a guy yelling about two-for-one margaritas.

I shrug, keeping it casual. “Maybe.”

But my gut stays twisted.

Allie bumps my shoulder, teasing. “Are you mad someone looked at your flamingo cooler?”

I give her a grin and fake a chuckle. “Of course.”

She doesn’t realize I’m already mapping out exit routes while thinking about Peyton running like she was scared and Daltyn’s silence.

About the hooded man in the shadows… and how fast I could break a jaw if anyone got too close to my wife.

We turn the corner.

I glance back.

The hooded guy is still there, half a block behind us.

He’s following us.

I stop walking.

Allie stumbles slightly beside me. “Connor?”

I force a smile. “Thought I forgot something.”

I don’t move for three full seconds. Just stare down the street like I’m daring the guy to try it again.

He vanishes behind a group of tourists.

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