Page 10 of Taking

A shiver slid down my spine, one that caused me to straighten. I whipped my head around.

“What?” Ciarra asked as I studied the sidewalk and the few people hurrying through the biting wind.

That feeling…that energy I remembered all too well…

Shaking my head, I turned forward. Faced reality. Gideon sat in jail for at least five more years.

“Do you think Lloyd is stalking you?” Ciarra whispered, stepping closer to my side.

“No,” I didn’t hesitate in replying. Lloyd’s presence hadn’t ever given me the kind of shiver Gideon’s had whenever we shared space.

“Maybe he has someone trailing you—waiting to grab you when you least expect it.”

Something Lloyd could probably get away with, considering he and the sheriff were thick as thieves.

Ciarra linked her arm through mine, even though out thick coats made us waddle around like padded penguins. “Until your birthday, it might be best to not be alone, if you know what I mean.”

Growing up as she had, Ciarra tended toward nervousness and being extra careful when it came to “bad guys.” As for me, I sometimes wondered what the point was. I’d already been ruined.

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” I muttered, hitching my chin into my scarf. “I’m never by myself in public, and I never go out. What’s he going to do? Break into our house and steal me away in the middle of the night?”

“Still. He said you’d be sorry for not giving him what he wanted. Is there any legal action he might try?”

“Not that I’m aware of.” But I didn’t know. Perhaps I needed to make a call to Mother’s old lawyer and dig a little deeper into what I faced over the next two months. The reminder twisted my stomach up.

Ciarra squeezed my arm tighter, and minutes later we breathed in relief as warmth from the science building swarmed over us. It still took me twenty minutes into the professor’s lecture before I shrugged out of my coat. With hardly any fat on my body, I was always cold.

Shivering.

Pasty-pale as hell.

I no longer bothered with the makeup I’d been enamored with as a teenager to cover up the pallor of my skin. Intentionally, I wore baggy clothing to hide my bone rack body and the breasts that refused to shrink. Frumpy clothes, the bobbed hair I’d always wanted, and an unpainted face made me background noise in crowds—exactly as I wished to be.

The bubbly rich girl who befriended everyone had morphed into an inhibited, quiet wallflower.

Unnoticed.

Safe from the attentions of men.

But when Ciarra and I once more stepped into the cold, heading to our next class, that tingling awareness raised the hair on my arms.

A scan around the immediate area didn’t reveal anyone lingering, no dark-tinted, windowed cars.

Lack of sleep.

I let out a heavy, annoyed exhale at myself.

Still, I held onto my friend’s arm like a lifeline.

4

Gideon

Addilyn had cut her hair.

The ends stuck out beneath her knit hat a few inches above her shoulders, haphazard and without the sleek look she’d had as a teenager.

She didn’t wear makeup.

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