Page 30 of Fight Or Flight

Watching the interaction made Natalie’s stomach drop. She looked around, hoping to make an escape, but the only other way out was the entrance, and there was no way she could get over there without causing a scene.

She would have to get past the table unnoticed.

Natalie tipped her face away from Anne and picked up speed, but just as she neared the table, the mom beckoned the girl, and they took off.

Natalie chanced a glance and found Anne staring directly at her.

“Hi there. Would you like a cookie?”

Her smile faltered as Natalie shook her head, broke eye contact, and kept walking. It was hard to tell whether it was because her rudeness appalled Anne, or whether she realized she’d just offered her late husband’s love child, who ruined her marriage, a cookie.

Natalie sped up and bolted for the automatic doors, but they were old and rickety and took forever to open. When the crack was large enough for her and her bags to fit, she turned sideways and slipped through.

“Natalie!”

Across the street, Ethan was jogging toward her, hand waving and shouting her name. Dammit.

“Natalie! Hold up!”

She wanted to lift a finger to her nose to silence him, but the bags were too heavy. She chanced a look back to the door, hoping that they had closed or that Anne was distracted with another potential voter, but no such luck. Anne stood staring out the open door, stiff as a board, with a sad look where her smile had been. She looked as if she was going to cry. Her worried eyes darted from Natalie to Ethan and back.

Natalie turned, trying to block the image, and speed-walked to her bike.

“Natalie!”

She kept ignoring him, silently praying for him to stop screaming her name. Unfortunately, he wasn’t giving up. And he was fast. He caught up with her in a few strides.

“Hey! Why are you brushing me off?” he asked, jogging in front of her so she had no choice but to look at him. He stood in her way and stared down at her, eyes flicking between hers from behind his lenses, analyzing as he patiently waited for her answer.

She found herself lost and forced a blink. “I’m not. I’m brushing someone else off.”

He made a show of looking up and down the completely empty street. “Oooookayyyy . . .” he said.

She rolled her eyes at him. “I’m not delusional.”

He raised his eyebrows in an irritatingly unreadable way. “Who was it?” he asked.

She couldn’t tell whether he was genuinely curious or thought she was insane. And for some reason, she actually wanted to explain herself to him. “Anne.”

He glanced back. “Ah, I see.”

The thought of Anne standing there sadly made her skin crawl. She had to get out of there. The last thing on earth she wanted was for Anne to come out and try to talk to her. She brushed past Ethan and reached for her rusty old bike.

“Do you want a ride?” he asked. “I’ve got a truck. I can take you home and get my jacket.”

He tilted his head behind him toward a big, black truck parked on the side of the street, away from the grocery store exit doors.

Part of her wanted to just get his address and drop the damn jacket off under the cover of night so she could avoid any more incidents like this one. But leaving faster would be good, and she was running out of time to meet Harold.

“Fine.”

The drive back was under a minute. When they pulled up in front of the house, Ethan hopped out, then heaved the old bike out of the bed of his truck and leaned it up against a tree.

Natalie walked up the front steps and passed the bags over to him while she unlocked the front door with her key.

“You kept the stick?” he asked in a flat tone, nodding to the stick she had fended the snakes off with. It was leaning against the side of the house next to the door.

“Yes. It’s a warning. I will swipe at any snakes that come here.” She pulled the key out, turned the lock, and opened the door. Then she took the bags from him and stepped inside.

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