Page 108 of The Banned Books Club

“An angry person is a reckless person,” she replied, coming right back at him. “They make mistakes. And that’s what I need Sheldon to do—make a big mistake that I’ll be able to capitalize on.”

“You’re pretty angry yourself,” he pointed out. “How do you knowyouwon’t be the one to make a mistakehecan capitalize on?”

She jutted out her chin as though she’d continue to argue, but then he could see her start to blink rapidly and knew she was battling tears.

“I know you’re going through a lot,” he said, gentling his voice and pulling her into his arms. “But you’re trying to do too much. You need to take a deep breath and get some sleep, regroup.”

She didn’t say anything. She just buried her face in his chest.

“Are you okay?” he asked a few minutes later, dropping a kiss on top of her head.

He wanted to stay angry with her for being so reckless. He didn’t know one other woman who would’ve done what she’d done. But he couldn’t help admiring her spirit. She’d been the same kind of fighter in high school. Few people had her grit.

“You scare me,” he murmured. “I’m terrified you’re going to get hurt.”

She leaned her head back to gaze up at the stars while he continued to hold her. “Standing up to a bully always comes with risks, Cormac. That’s why no one wants to do it. But I can’t live with the alternative—won’t let himmakeme live with the alternative. I’m going to fight back. And whether I win or not?” She met his gaze. “Well, that remains to be seen.”

Margot turned to look at the man who’d followed her into the thrift shop from the nearby park, where, after dropping the boys off at school, she’d been reading a book while drinking a latte. She couldn’t remember ever being able to simply relax in a park by herself—not while she was with Sheldon. She’d always had a list of things she had to get done before he returned home that she was afraid she wouldn’t be able to complete in time. But she didn’t have to start her new job until Monday, she was in a gripping part of her novel, and it was a beautiful fall day. She’d given herself an hour to read before continuing to furnish their new apartment and had been thoroughly enjoying herself—until she’d spotted a middle-aged man with a drawn face and a thickening waistline watching her from another picnic table. He didn’t have a book or a cup of coffee or any children with him. He hadn’t come to run or anything like that, either. He was just sitting there, dressed in black slacks and a white button-up shirt, doing nothing.

Who was he? she wondered. And what did he want? Despite the circumstances, she’d felt pretty secure since coming to California. This was the first time she’d been notably uneasy. Could it be Sheldon’s PI? Had he found her somehow, maybe from those comments she’d posted on Gia’s Instagram page?

She didn’t see how that could be the case. The only thing required to create an account on Insta was an email address. But maybe that was all a good investigator needed. She’d seen movies where people could be traced using an IP address or something like that—she didn’t completely understand what it was or how it worked. Or maybe she’d left some other trail she wasn’t aware of. She didn’t have any experience with trying to drop out of sight.

Fear gripped her as she moved around the shop, putting various dishes and a toaster in her basket while watching him surreptitiously through the shelves. He didn’t seem to be actively shopping, just like he hadn’t been doing much of anything at the park, but hewouldpick up an item here or there if she glanced over.

She slipped her hand into her purse and felt for her phone. She’d entered Gia’s number into it. Her parents’ too. But she hadn’t dared call them. It just felt better, more normal, to have her contacts in place, especially the numbers of the most important people in her life.

She was tempted to text Gia to tell her about the man who was following her. Her sister may have heard something, could know more than Margot did. Whoever this guy was, he had a great deal of interest in her. She felt his gaze on her whenever she wasn’t looking at him.

As he meandered closer, she couldn’t resist sending her sister a message.

Have they found me?

Her heart pounded against her chest as she waited for Gia’s reply, which came only seconds later.

Why? What do you mean?

There’s a man here, following me.

There is? I don’t see how they could’ve found you.

You haven’t heard anything?

No.

“Excuse me.”

Margot jumped when she looked up to find him standing right next to her.

“I’m sorry,” he said, lifting a hand as one might to a calm a spooked horse. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I just... I saw you in the park and... Well, my wife died recently—not quite a year ago. I visit the park every now and then because it reminds me of her. She liked to go there and read, just like you, and while I was sitting there, missing her, I looked up and...there you were, so serene and pretty.” He cleared his throat, obviously feeling awkward. “It’s been a long time since I’ve done anything like this, and I was never very good at it,” he said with a self-deprecating laugh. “Obviously, I’ve only gotten worse. But I was wondering if... I thought... Well, if you’d be willing to give me your email address, we could try to get to know each other that way, and if things go well, maybe one day you’ll feel comfortable enough to go out to dinner with me.”

Stunned, Margot blinked at him. He wasn’t an investigator. He wasn’t even asking for something as intrusive as her phone number. He merely wanted her email address.

The expression on her face must’ve made him think she was going to turn him down because he started to move away.

“Never mind. I shouldn’t have bothered you. I’m sorry. You could be married or seeing someone or just want to be left alone. I’m not sure what compelled me to follow you in here...”

He turned, obviously eager to get away as fast as possible. But he’d been so respectful and sweet—and authentic. It was the authentic part that got her. “Wait... What’s your name?”

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