Page 107 of One Spicy Summer

He sees me.

He knows.

My blood roars in my ears.

Fight or flight boiling under my skin. Then Rygaard explodes from his seat, chair crashing to the floor behind him. Charging straight toward the entrance.

Straight towardme.

Fuck.

The darkness welcomes me like an old lover.

I slip between its fingers and vanish, the night swallowing me whole. "Until next time, bitch," I mutter, smiling so wide it hurts my face.

Next time… I'll make sure she doesn't survive the goodbye.

Chapter Forty-Three

Presley

July

Life with Rygaard has been nothing short of amazing.

Ever since he took me out to that nice restaurant, and showed me who was boss later that night, I’ve been on my best behavior.

No talking back. Doing what he says like a good girl. And every morning and night, he rewards me in the best way.

I’ve kept up regular lunch dates with Agatha, and slowly, we’ve begun to rebuild our friendship. She smiles more these days, and I know it’s because of a man, though she won’t tell me who he is.

I haven’t seen much of Rafe, and probably never will. He's forgiven me for stealing from him, but there's no way he'll ever forget. Honestly, I wouldn’t forgive me either. I put him through hell and never even apologized.

Thankfully, Ry and I found a compromise about work, and now I have a part-time job at the old studio where I used to dance.

Madame Dupanchane was thrilled when I finally reached out.

"My sweet girl. I’m so happy to see you blossoming like the delicate rose you were always meant to be. I hate that life showed you a darkness I wish on no one, but alas... you made it out."

"Madame, will you tell me your story? When you’re ready, of course."

"I've been ready for years, darling. Let’s chat over coffee and croissants."

That was nearly a week ago, though it feels like a lifetime.

Madame Dupanchane shared some of her own heartbreak: abandoned by her husband, pregnant and alone, she made the agonizing decision to give the child up for adoption. Even after more than twenty years, it still haunts her.

I’d love to ask if she’s ever tried to find her child, but it doesn’t feel like my place.

Better to let old ghosts lie.

Grabbing my purse, keys, and mace, Rygaard’s idea, of course, I head out.

At first, it pissed me off that he wanted me carrying it everywhere, but when he broke down how much danger could still be out there... well, it made sense.

Still, I’m pretty sure Keifer’s long gone by now. Wanted for murder. Surely he’s not still lurking.

Still… ‘Anything’s possible, Presley. Don’t underestimate him.’ I hear Rygaard’s voice so clearly in my mind I almost feel his breath against my ear.

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