Page 21 of Parker

What. The. Hell?

Her gaze bounced between the street in front of her and her rearview mirror. Relieved to see no one was following her, she caught a glimpse of her reflection…nearly gasping at what she saw.

Pale skin and nostrils flaring, a look of pure and utter fear stared back at her through a set of wild green eyes. The terrified look reminded her of another time. Another life.

And it pissed her the hell off.

Fury exploded from somewhere deep inside as Quinn continued driving aimlessly. Damn it, this wasexactlythe kind of thing she was afraid of.

This was the exact reason she never should have let her guard down.

But she had. Over the last six years, Quinn had gotten complacent in her day-to-day routine. Comfortable.

It was a comfort she couldn’t afford.

She should call someone. She should call nine-one-one…or Holly…or…

ByteMe69

The unexpected thought had her flinching, yet she found herself giving it serious consideration as she ran through all her options.

If she called the cops, they’d send units to her house. She’d have to turn back around and meet them there, and spend the next two hours walking them through what had happened, knowing that entire time they wouldn’t find anything.

With the exception of his eyes and mouth, the man’s entire body had been covered. Including his hands.

Gloves meant no fingerprints, and though she’d literally been running for her life, Quinn hadn’t noticed a single drop of blood on her kitchen floor where the man had been laying. So the likelihood of the police making a positive I.D. from DNA or prints was zilch.

This wasn’t some random home invasion, Quinn. That man was no amateur.

No, he was a professional who’d sought her out for a reason. And while it made absolutely no sense, Quinn’s gut was screaming that Justin was somehow involved.

He’s still in jail, remember? That man couldn’t have been him.

As far as she was concerned, those were moot points. She’d dealt with enough criminals—both before and during her stint with the FBI—she understood all too well how resourceful prisoners could be.

Guards or other prisoners, it didn’t matter. If the motivation was strong enough, those on the inside could reach pretty much anyone out here.

The occasional notes she’d recently started receiving had all been left in random locations at different times of day, their deliverer’s face always hidden from any nearby cameras.

And Quinn had accessed them all.

CCTV, grocery store parking lots, her own home-security system... None of the security footage she’d looked through had caught enough features for facial rec. Just a tall man dressed in black, just like her intruder. The only difference was, in the footage, he wore a black baseball cap instead of the ski mask.

Although she’d bet her entire savings it was the same exact man.

It definitely wasn’t Justin. She would have recognized his eyes behind the mask. But despite him currently being behind bars, Quinn would have to be a fool to think they’d come from anyone else.

Miss me?

You’re not as smart as you think you are.

You can’t hide from me.

I’m coming for you.

You’re going to pay for what you did.

The tone behind the messages grew more and more threatening with each subsequent note. The scribbled handwriting was one she didn’t recognize, but it didn’t matter.

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