Page 80 of Damascus & The Wildfire
I lugged a box into my room, shut the door, and yanked open the nightstand drawer. My hand closed around the small collection of toys I wasn’t about to let a prospect stumble across. I tossed them into the bottom of the box, then buried them under T-shirts and leggings.
“Sorry, boys, no bonus finds for you today,” I muttered to myself.
By the time I emerged after packing my room, nearly the entire house was boxed and taped. The men were loading the truck like an efficient machine.
Arson wiped sweat from his brow. “We’ll get the rest of your boxes in the truck and over to Merrick’s. Just send us a text if you need anything else,” he offered.
I thanked the men, sending them off with bottles of ice-cold water from my nearly empty refrigerator.
Alone in the house, I started cleaning the kitchen. The counters were bare except for a stack of library books I’d set aside while packing.I picked them up, frowning at the overdue notices tucked inside. They needed to go back downtown.
I considered waiting for Merrick to go with me, but he was busy with whatever secretive club business kept him unavailable today. Asking a prospect to escort me to the library felt absurd. Besides, the sooner I got the books returned and cleaned up the house, the sooner I could pass the keys back to Eva so she could rent it out.
I grabbed my keys and jumped into my Range Rover, heading downtown. The streets buzzed with the lunchtime crowd, and parking in front of the library was full. I circled the block twice before finding a spot farther down the street.
Inside the cool library, I dropped off the books and breathed a sigh of relief—one less thing to worry about. As I walked back to my car, I pulled out my phone to check for messages. I sent a funny GIF to Hatchet and responded to my brother, who was asking when I’d be returning for a visit.
The street was quiet, the sun high and hot overhead, but something prickled at the back of my neck. I slowed and glanced backward casually.
A man in a dark bandanna stood twenty yards back.
My heart skipped a beat as his eyes met mine.
I quickened my pace, turning the next corner. I glanced back again, my gut clenching as I realized he’d closed the gap between us.
I forced myself to walk faster.Coincidence, I lied to myself. He wasn’t following me. We just happened to be heading in the same direction.
My paranoia felt ridiculous, but the feeling in my gut wouldn’t go away. I chanced another glance. He was closer. My walk turned into a clipped power stride. I turned another corner and glanced around. In my haste, I realized I’d passed the street where I’d parked and headed toward an abandoned construction site on a more industrial block. The hospital where Hatchet lay loomed in the distance, its sign a beacon, but it might as well have been miles away.
I ducked behind a stack of wooden pallets, crouching low. Myhands shook as I tried to call Merrick. Voicemail. Damn it. I dialed Fuse next, my breath coming in short gasps.
He picked up immediately. “Kenna. What’s wrong?” I could hear Hatchet in the background, demanding to know what was happening.
“I think I’m being followed,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “I’m hiding in a construction site near the hospital. But maybe I’m being paranoid.”
“Trust your gut,” Fuse urged. “If you felt it, you’re not imagining it. Stay hidden, but run if you can get away.”
My stomach dropped as the man crossed my line of vision. His boots crunched slowly across gravel. Hunting me.
“Kenna Walsh,” the man sang, his accented voice echoing across the abandoned space. “Come out, come out, wherever you are …”
I whispered a curse. “He’s here. And he knows my name.”
“Listen to me,” Fuse said, his voice steady. “Stay silent, and stay on the line so I can listen in. I’m coming. Do you know the cross streets? Or see any signs that can help me find you?”
“It’s the abandoned Zaide building not far from the library.”
“I know where that is. I’m on my way. Stay calm. And Kenna, if he gets to you, you fight with everything you’ve got.”
I pressed myself deeper into the shadows, my pulse pounding in my ears. Even from a distance, I could hear the man’s footsteps crunching on gravel as he moved closer.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Fuse’s phone rang just as I was changing out of my hospital gown, ready to ditch this sterile hellhole. I’d been cleared for discharge an hour ago. The stitches tugged when I bent, my ribs ached like a motherfucker, but I was mobile enough.
The doctors were probably booting me because every nurse on the floor had a hard time keeping out of my room. I didn’t blame them—I looked fantastic in a gown that showed way too much ass.
Fuse’s voice turned razor sharp. “Stay calm. And Kenna, if he gets to you, you fight with everything you’ve got.”
