Page 33 of His to Protect

Not in Declan’s home, where for the first time in my life since those college days, I finally felt safe again.

With a quick shake of my head, I clicked the button on the remote, changed the channel to the movie station, and settled in to watchSweet Home Alabamafor the umpteenth time.

I was just getting to my favorite part, where Reese Witherspoon walks into the small-town bar for the first time in her quest to get a divorce from her husband, when my phone began to ring with a shrill tone.

Everything in me chilled as I pulled my eyes from the television screen and stared at the light flashing on my cellphone.

Declan was the only one who had the number. His cell and the number for Fireside were the only numbers programmed into it.

I didn’t even know why I had it sitting next to me instead of tucked away in my purse where I usually kept it.

I must have tossed it there after my walk.

It vibrated and rang again, and I reached out to grab it.

It was just a wrong number.

The thought didn’t bring me comfort as I pressed the Connect button and lifted the phone to my ear.

“Hello?” I asked, my mouth suddenly dry.

A deep, familiar chuckle echoed through the line and my blood turned frigid. “Hello, Katrina. Surely you didn’t think I wouldn’t be able to find you.”

I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. I knew this whole time that I was fooling myself.

I jerked the phone away from my ear, hit the End button, and threw it at the wall. It bounced off, undamaged, luckily, but I started shaking, terrified.

I stared at the phone as if Kevin himself was going to materialize through the plastic contraption, and another tremor vibrated through my body.

“Holy shit,” I gasped.

He had done it.

How did you even get the number for a phone bought at a random RadioShack?

Security cameras?

It didn’t matter now.

I pushed myself to my feet and rushed upstairs, running like the flames of a fire were nipping at my heels. I vaguely heard Boomer thumping up the stairs behind me, but I paid him no attention as I reached for the bag I’d stashed at the bottom of the closet. I began tossing all my clothes inside, ripping them off hangers and letting the hangers fall on the floor in a pile. Then I hurried to the bathroom where I scooped all of my bathroom supplies into my arms and rushed back to the bedroom.

I had to get out of there.

Canada.

I’d continue with my original plan. With the couple of hundred dollars I’d made in tips, plus the car I could eventually sell, I had enough to get another trashy hotel room.

I just had to say goodbye to Declan.

The thought made me pause as I dumped my bathroom things on top of the clothes in my bag.

I didn’t have to say goodbye to him.

I could just leave.

I had known him a week and didn’t owe him anything.

But he was so damn nice to you and the least you could do was call him so he didn’t worry.

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