Page 10 of Penalty Kiss
Well,I think grimly,that's enough personal growth for one night.
My body is still humming from the brief, shocking contact, unsatisfied and thoroughly frustrated. The mirrors show me flushed skin and hard nipples, with a restless energy that won’t burn off on its own.
I need to run.
I yank on a pair of running shorts and a tank top, not bothering with anything else except a supportive sports bra.
The last thing I need on top of all this is a bad case of nipple rash. My skin is already prickling, my nerves shot. The night air will clear my head, burn off the adrenaline, and definitely not remind me of all the ways I'm spectacularly bad at being a normal adult woman with normal adult needs.
The cottage door closes behind me with a soft click, and I take off down the quiet street at an easy pace.
Cedar Falls at night is a different creature than during the day. The streets are empty except for the occasional porch light or the blue glow of someone's television through drawn curtains. The air is crisp and clean, carrying the scent of woodsmoke from someone's fireplace and the faint sweetness of the last autumn flowers in Mrs. Patterson's garden.
I love this time of night. The world feels manageable when it's just me and the rhythm of my feet against pavement, my breath visible in small puffs, my heartbeat steady and strong.
Two blocks from home, the familiar peace shatters.
The feeling starts as a prickle between my shoulder blades, a wrongness that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I've learned to trust this instinct—it's kept me alive and hidden for three years.
I think someone's watching me.
Perfect. From sex toy failure to horror-movie footsteps. My life.
I don't turn around. Instead, I adjust my pace slightly, listening for footsteps that match mine. There—about twenty feet back, trying to stay quiet but not quite managing it on the leaf-strewn sidewalk.
My heart hammers against my ribs, but I keep my breathing steady.Stay calm. Think.
I take a casual glance over my shoulder, pretending to check for cars before crossing the street. There's a figure in the shadows between two streetlights, too far away to make out details but definitely there. Definitely following.
Shit.
Have I been found?
I pick up my pace, not quite running but moving with purpose toward the downtown area. More lights, more potential witnesses, more chances for help if I need it.
The footsteps behind me quicken to match.
My mind races through possibilities. Could be a random jogger, pacing with me. I breathe in harder.
But my gut says this isn't random.
I turn down the familiar alley that cuts between Main Street and the residential area—a shortcut I've used hundreds of times, well-lit and safe.
Except tonight it doesn't feel safe.
The footsteps are closer now, no longer trying to be subtle. Heavy boots against concrete, moving with purpose.
I break into a run.
Behind me, he gives up pretending and runs too.
The alley mouth is fifty feet away, bright lights and the safety of Main Street beyond. I can make it. I'm fast, and I know these streets like the back of my hand.
I take two long strides, my lungs burning, the pavement slapping under my sneakers. Freedom is a breath away.
A hand clamps down on my arm, wrenching me to a stop.
The surprise drives the breath out of me; I spin around, ready to fight, and find myself face-to-face with a man in an expensive suit that absolutely doesn't belong in Cedar Falls.He's got the kind of polished, predatory look I remember from my father's business associates—the ones who smiled with too many teeth and always seemed to be calculating something behind their eyes.
