Page 189 of Saving Her

“It was a man.” He taps his cell again, lighting up the screen with the picture on it. “I’m wondering if you recognize him.”

“Me?” She glances at me in confusion before settling her attention back on Torian. “Why would I recognize him?”

“No reason. Just covering all my bases.” He pushes his phone toward her, letting her frame it in both hands. “The image quality isn’t the best.”

She stares at the screen, not seeming to show any sign of recognition. At least not until I notice the tremble in her fingers and the lighter shade to her cheeks.

“Pen?” I slide into the seat beside her. “Do you know who it is?”

“Is this a joke?” She looks at me, her face ashen. “Please tell me this is some sick—”

“You recognize him?” Torian asks.

“When was this taken?” Her eyes scream with panic.

“Yesterday afternoon.”

I reach for her, but she drops the phone to the table and pushes from her chair, distancing herself as she stands. “Where?”

“At a gas station ATM,” Torian answers.

“Where?” She repeats. “Whatgas station?WhichATM?”

“The one on the corner of Boulevard and Cheshire. It’s a ten-minute drive from here.”

A heaved breath shudders from her lips. Followed by another and another, her shoulders trembling with the exhales.

“Penny?” I slowly rise to my feet, not wanting to spook her further. “What’s going on?”

“You lied to me,” she whispers. “You told me he was dead.”

“Who’s dead?” Torian’s chair scrapes as he stands.

“Robert,” she yells. “That man in the photo isRobert.”

“No, shorty.” My refusal is adamant as I reach for her. “You’re mistaken. It’s not him.”

“The image is blurry at best.” Torian speaks over me. “The guy’s face is mostly covered.”

She shoves me away, regaining space. “You think I wouldn’t recognize a man who tormented me for years? I’d know him anywhere. And yet he washere. InPortland. A mere ten-minute drive away.”

“No…” I reach for her again and she revolts.

“You promised.” She backtracks. “You promised he was dead. You promised I was safe.”

“Youare.” I follow her. “I would’ve bet my goddamn life he was dead.”

“Instead, you bet mine.” She places more space between us, one step after another. “You stakedmylife, Luca.”

“I’d never do that.”

I don’t get it.

I don’t fucking understand.

“Pen, calm down,” I beg. “You didn’t sleep well last night. Why don’t you take another look at the photo—”

“I didn’t sleep well?” Her eyes plead with me. “You don’t believe me?”

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