Page 92 of Mad Love

He should be here by now.

Hale leads me to the garden through the French doors. The moon is high in the sky. The stars twinkle. There are white lights strung up on the branches of trees, the bushes, and the trellises.

“It’s so beautiful and much cooler out here. Thank you for thinking of me and my comfort.”

My words spur him on. He tugs me against him, his hand going from the small of my back to my hip. Damn it, I’m giving him mixed messages. I need to do a better job of staying within the boundaries of our friendship. Pretending I almost ran into an imaginary object in our path, I shimmy out of his hold and keep a sizeable distance between us. He has the nerve to laugh. I shoot him a sideways glower. He laughs some more and reaches for me. I sidestep his reach and hurry ahead of him. Hale follows me, his steps unhurried.

He’s hunting me.

Oh, God, am I wrong about the silent, brooding man?

Is he more foe than friend?

Is he hiding under a guise of friendship when he all along is the threat I didn’t see coming?

I stop at a dead end, having placed myself in further danger when I made the mistake of entering a maze. Who the hell has a maze in their backyard these days? I start to turn. He stops me with his hands on my waist. He pulls me back against his solid body. His erection presses into my back.

“Got you.”

I suck in a breath. “You–you can talk,” I stammer.

“Just like you take off your gloves for that damn husband of yours, I’ll only speak to you, doll.”

Doll.

My vision goes in and out. My mind screams at me to come down on his shin with my heels. Jab him on the underside of his jaw, followed by a hard hit to the stomach with my elbow. After he lets me go, I’ll sucker punch him in the throat and kick him in the balls.

Except he’s stronger. Can easily catch up to me in my three-inch heels. Then what? He’ll hurt me. Drag me off to wherever he wants to bury me alive. Maybe for good this time.

“What do you want?”

“I want you, doll.” He lets go of me, pulls a pack of cigarettes from his front pocket, and lights one up. “I’ve always wanted you.”

“How could I forget? You come to me in my dreams.”

He tsks. “Sarcasm not appreciated.” He steps closer. Blows a smoke ring. “Say it again.”

“Say what again?”

“The part about your dreams.”

“You come to me in my dreams.”

He slips a finger under my chin. Tips my face up until our eyes meet. “Is that so?”

“Yes,” I whisper. “How do we know one another, Hale?” If that’s even his real name. “How do we know one another intimately? How did I give you the gift of time?”

He swipes aside my hair. Drags his nose down the column of my neck. Nestles his face in the curve of my neck. His breath is warm on my skin. And when he cups my jaw in his hand, there’s a lingering scent of lilacs. He brings my face to his. Brushes his lips over mine. I close my eyes and imagine it’s Maddox kissing me.

“We met when you were thirteen and I was seventeen. In the same neighborhood you met your friend Collins. We spent every waking hour together. You snuck off to come see me more than you did Collins.”

“I don’t remember you.”

“I counted on it.” He takes a long draw of his cigarette then tosses the butt on the ground, stomping it with his shoe.

Is that the reason he kept checking for my reaction in the rearview mirror?

“Cillian said you manipulated Maya into falling in love with you. Is that true?” I ball my hands at my sides. “How could you bury me with her? How could you keep her body from her family? My family?”

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