Page 52 of Guilty as Sin
Unless the person had parked on the road and walked up.
It was probably the wind blowing a branch against the door of the shop. Something like that. But all the same, she was still listening, wishing the door to the closet had a lock. Wishing the bedroom had adoor.
There was one door that closed in the cottage. The bathroom. Paige grabbed a pair of leggings and some socks from the dresser and Lily’s one pair of athletic shoes from the floor, all with her left hand, her right one still holding the revolver. She inched the closet door open and crept around to the bathroom, where she slipped inside, shut and locked the door as quietly as possible, switched on the light, pulled off the short bottoms of her pj’s, and got herself dressed.
Navy-blue leggings. Athletic socks and shoes. And a too-skimpy pj top.
She could have gone back for a sweater. She didn’t. This feltwrong.Her Spidey Sense was tingling. She flipped off the bathroom light, waited for a count of 180 for her eyes to begin to adapt to the darkness, then unlocked the door and eased it slowly open.
Nothing.
She went through the door weapon first, then retraced her steps to the closet and picked up her phone. Still nothing. A stop for her purse, dropping the phone inside and slinging the bag over her shoulders, and she was down the stairs, hugging the railing, and picking up her keys from the table by the door.
No porch light to illuminate her for anybody waiting. No motion sensors on the driveway, though, either. Lily had felt safe. Paige knew there was no such thing.
In the car. Doors locked. Weapon in easy reach. Start it up.
Down the mountain.
Jace couldn’t sleep.
Insomnia was part of the deal, of course. But tonight, it was worse than ever. And he knew why. Because he’d been a bastard. That was part of the deal, too.
She’d told him she was damaged. She’dshownhim she was damaged. And what had he said? That people who were damaged didn’t tell you about it.
An arsehole thing to say. When he’d kissed her, when he’d been tender, she’d been surprised. You couldn’t fake that. She wasn’t used to being treated with tenderness, and that told you something. That was wrong.
Now, he stood at the front window, held the curtain back with a hand, and looked out at the night. No stars visible, because the clouds covered the sky.
“Storm coming,” he told Tobias, who was on his dog bed, his head lifted, his eyes on Jace. “Soon.”
He saw the lightening in the sky first. Not the flash of lightning. The sweep of headlights illuminating the low clouds.
It was after one o’clock in the morning.
It was Lily’s car. Something was wrong.
He couldn’t have said why, but within thirty seconds, he had his shoes on and his dog in his truck, the engine going hard.
He had to push it to catch up, because she was flying, and she had more weight in the back of that vehicle than he did, could take the corners faster. He hit the straight stretch into town, saw the red flash of taillights ahead, and put his foot down.
He caught up to her about the same time he saw the red and blue lights in the distance. When she blew through a red light onto Main, he swore, slowed, and followed her on through. And when she was going 40 in a 25 zone, he kept up.
She hit the brakes hard and pulled to the curb fast, nose to nose with the police cruiser, its light bar working. He saw her outlined for a moment when she opened the door, and then she was out and running. Around the back of the patrol car, and the cop on the sidewalk was whirling, his hand going to the butt of his weapon.
Shit.
Lily was on the sidewalk now. Jace saw the cop take a fast step to the right, then three steps back. The cop’s gun was out of his holster, and her hands went into the air just that fast.
“Freeze!”The cop shouted it, but she’d already done it.
“P— Lily Hollander,” she said. “This is my shop. I got the call. Somebody’s following me.”
The cop had to see she wasn’t armed. She was lit up like Christmas, and she was wearing leggings, trainers, and a slinky top cut close to her body. The wind whipped through the trees and whined in the power lines, the engine of her SUV purred quietly, and Jace’s V-8 growled low. The red and blue lights swirled like a disco ball, and two pairs of headlights cast a white glare onto the scene.
The cop wasn’t listening. Jace could see it. Lily kept her hands up and stood absolutely still and calm in a way civilians could almost never manage. And the cop’s gun swung around and tracked onto Jace.
“Lily Hollander,” she said again. “Coming down to check out the alarm on my shop. I was being chased.” Her eyes slid over to Jace, and her face changed. “Son of abitch.”
