Page 28 of Hunted Innocence

“Hello, Nadine.”

I know that voice.

That is the voice of my nightmares.

“What do you want?” I ask.

Which is stupid as hell, because I know exactly what he wants. He wants his thumb drive and me. He wants to make me pay for stealing from him and walking away. Nobody walks away from Landon Tate unless they’ve been dismissed. And he would never dismiss me, at least not to live freely. He would kill me, that’s about all.

“What a stupid question,” he hisses.

It was a stupid question. But the words just came out, and now I’m regretting them. No, I’m regretting answering this phone call. That’s what I’m regretting. But I don’t say a single word.

There is nothing to say to him any longer.

I said everything I needed to without speaking a single word when I stole his thumb drive for my insurance and walked away without a single glance backward.

“I want my files,” he barks.

That tone, the way it pierces my ear, also causes my spine to straighten. I know what comes after that shouting tone. And it could be a day, a year, or a lifetime, and I would never forget it.

Wincing, I close my eyes and try to breathe without making it known to him that he’s affecting me. But he’s affecting me to the point where my body is beyond trembling. I’m straight up shaking.

The fact that Landon Tate still scares the absolute shit out of me, even when I know he cannot touch me in this building, is a testament to what he forced me to endure. Biting the inside of my cheek, I ignore the metallic taste of blood that fills my mouth.

“Nadine,” he purrs, instantly changing his tone and vibe.

This is also who he is. One second, he’s losing his shit, the next he seems to have himself completely under control. He’s scary, and you never know which version you get from one second to the next.

Whiplash isn’t even the right word. I don’t think there is one for how quickly this man changes entire personalities. He’s psychotic and terrifying. That’s what he is.

“Landon,” I exhale, attempting to sound soft and breathy rather than shaky and terrified.

To be honest, I’m not sure which is better. He truly does love it when I am—or anyone else is—terrified of him. It gives him the power he craves. Composing myself, I continue speaking, though I’m not sure what he wants me to say.

“I’m not giving you anything. You need to leave Nights now before someone gets hurt.”

It takes every ounce of my courage to speak to him this way. But I have a feeling I’m just poking the bear. I’m not sure that I care, though. I’m so tired of living in fear, of looking over my shoulder every second of every day.

Living in that safe house, these men knowing the truth, it’s been liberating. Sucking in a breath, I hold it as I wait for him to respond, knowing that he’s going to be angry. That his words will be filled with threats and that his tone will send a chill down my spine.

“It seems we’re at an impasse,” he begins. “My life is and will always be more important than a piece of property’s breath. So, just be forewarned that I always get what I want, when I want it. And sleep tight.”

The call ends, and I stare at my phone. Instead of finding Grayson, I decide to call my brother, because it doesn’t sit right with me that Landon had this number when Brody is the only one who has ever had it before.

The phone rings.

And rings.

And then goes to voicemail, and something ugly slithers down my spine.

Brody needs help.

He needs me.

Chapter Twelve

NADINE

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