Page 12 of Baited

CHAPTER 4

It could bea coincidence.

Loose stones dug into the knee of her dress pants as she examined the deflated tire in her driveway. The late afternoon sun beat down on her back. She could have run over something on her way home yesterday.

She rubbed the knuckle of her thumb between her eyes. She’d slept like shit every night since the break-in last week. But last night had been the worst. Every creak or groan of the house had her bolting upright in bed, or diving for the knife under her pillow. She’d even gone as far as to buy a baseball bat on her way home yesterday and put it beside her bed.

The locks had been replaced, but that didn’t change the fact that he was still after her. Joe had listened to the voicemail from yesterday. He’d promised to call the cell phone company and see about tracing the call, but had warned her that the person had likely used an encrypted phone.

She’d been so sure the voicemail was conclusive evidence that Hanna was still alive, but judging by the hard line to Joe’s jaw he wasn’t convinced that was the case.

“If it is Hanna’s voice, it could be a recording from weeks ago,” he’d warned. “But the scream could also be a clip from a movie or hell, taken from the internet.”

Anger still rippled through her. Joe was trying to prepare her for the worst, but she knew in her heart Hanna was alive. It had been her voice, of that she was dead certain.

Gravel crunched beneath heavy footsteps and she lifted her head as Ethan’s hulking form rounded the trunk of her car.

“Hey, everything okay?”

His brown hair fell across his forehead, and his bright blue eyes squinted at her. A wave of delight began to form in her stomach. She forced it down, though she couldn’t withhold the smile that tugged at her mouth.

He shoved his hands in his front pockets and took a step closer. She hadn’t seen him since he’d brought in the note off her car yesterday…the note warning her she’d be next.

She glanced at the flaccid black rubber and a shiver ran up her spine. Who was she kidding? There was no way in hell this was a coincidence.

Her gaze drifted across the gravel to his large, sandaled feet and she let her eyes drink in the long, solid legs all the way up. Despite her need to keep her interest in Ethan at bay, appreciation warmed her skin. God he was gorgeous, and blessed in all the right places—that she knew of. His bronze skin had only darkened since he’d taken residence of the house next door two weeks ago. Long, thick lines of muscle adorned every inch of his body, even his light gray jogging pants couldn’t hide the hard-earned flesh that lied beneath.

Any other circumstance and she’d be mush to his easy smile and almost daily conversation. A few times, she’d indulged in conversation with him, but regret had quickly dragged her attention from the six-foot four tantalizing temptation.

“Just a flat. I drove through the construction across town yesterday. Must have run over something.”

His piercing blues flashed at her and the lines of his stubble-filled jaw turned as hard as slate. She waited, and tension built in her chest in anticipation he would bring up the note from yesterday.

“Pop the trunk and I’ll change it.” The words came out clipped, as if it had taken every effort not to say more.

She pushed to her feet and her lips tremored on a tight smile. Her gaze dragged past the driver’s side window and a folded-up piece of paper lay on the black leather seat. Blood roared through her veins and the walls of her throat swelled on a breath.

Another note.

No, another threat. This time, with vandalism to her vehicle. A small ripple of fear wound around her heart. She swallowed. This is what she wanted—no, needed in order to find Hanna.

His attention.

Stop toying with me, and come and get me you bastard.

When Ethan had found the note yesterday, she’d had to lie. He was like a big, ferocious bulldog. If he knew another threat had been made against her he wouldn’t stop until she’d confessed everything. And she didn’t want to tell him about Hanna.

Keeping Ethan at arm’s length was growing more and more difficult by the day. He had a way of making her want to talk and if she wasn’t careful, she’d end up underneath him.

Because that’d be such a terrible thing, you idiot.

Ethan stretched his hand out, waiting for her keys. Shit. She couldn’t let him see the paper. She pressed her side against the driver’s side door, blocking his view, and cleared her throat.

“No, that’s fine. I can call a tow truck.”

His fingers flexed in the air between them and his dark brows met above his nose in a scowl.

“C’mon, Rye. That’s a waste of money. You’re not still mad at me, are you?”

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