Page 102 of Second Chance Fate

“Yeah?”

“Congratulations!”

“Oh, yeah, thanks,” her voice softened. “He’s pretty cute. I think I’ll keep him.”

Taylor smiled as she put her phone back in her pocket. A new job working for Broken Nail. She’d never considered event management before, but now that she was, maybe Viv was right. Maybe it would be a good fit. Now that she wasn’t parentingon her own, she could work weekends. Between Caleb and his parents, not to mention the community at large, she was sure she had enough support that she could take on a career, not just a job.

She took one more look around the cottage as her hand rested on the light switch. She was leaving all the furniture here. It felt like it belonged, and she didn’t have any place to put it, so she would have just sold it. Caleb had much nicer furniture than this. Lauren had given her an amazing deal compared to what she could have gotten if she’d Airbnb’d it, so Taylor felt like leaving the furniture was the least she could do.

So much had happened since the first time she’d come through that garage door the night they arrived. Time was a funny thing. It felt like years had passed since that night and also like it was yesterday.

She’d decompressed in this place. She healed in this place. She found herself in this place.

“Thank you,” she told the space quietly as she flipped the light off.

Taylor walked out into the one-car garage and pressed the fob to open the trunk. Once she got the box inside, which took a little Tetris skills, she closed it, pulled the manual garage door up by the handle, and walked to the driver’s side door. She was reaching for the handle when the sickeningly familiar stench of cigarettes and body odor drifted through the air. She gasped in fear as a hand slid around her waist, and she heard a voice next to her ear that caused her blood to run ice-cold.

“Hey, Bex.”

Smelling the dank aroma, hearing her ex say her name, and feeling his arm around her waist and his hot breath on her neck caused her to freeze. She wasn’t being figurative. She literally could not move. She was frozen in place. She felt tears filling her lids, and she screamed at herself to do something, to fight, torun. But there was a voice in the back of her head saying he was a lot bigger than her. She was scared that if she tried anything and he had a gun or a knife, he would use it.

“You are not an easy person to find. I told you, if you ever left, I would find you.”

Keeping their bodies in contact, he stepped around to her right side so that he was blocking her exit from the garage. She saw he had something black in his hand; she just didn’t know what it was. He had it close to his body. It could be a gun, a knife, or a taser.”

“You can’t be here, Martin.” Her voice was thin.

“You’re right. I can’t. Thankfully, I’m not.” He dropped the hand that was on her back and pulled out his phone. When he turned it around to show her, there was a screen that showed a map that had his address on it. There was a white blinking light at his address. “That is my ankle monitor, and it says I’m in Illinois.”

Why did she think she was safe? Of course, he’d know how to take off an ankle monitor. How stupid could she be?

“Martin, you need to leave.” She wished her voice were louder, stronger, but it came out sounding weak and small.

He reached up and brushed his fingers along her cheek. “I had to come see you to make sure you were okay after I found out you were in the hospital.”

Her brows furrowed.

He turned his phone around and showed her photos of her leaving the hospital.

“I knew you were in the hospital within twenty-four hours of you being admitted into the ICU. You didn’t actually think you could hide forever, did you? I told you, there’s always a digital trail, and I will find all the breadcrumbs you leave.”

“I didn’t leave you breadcrumbs. You need to go now.”

He smiled a smile that made her stomach churn in a way it hadn’t in months. He had something planned. Something not good. Tears began to fill her eyes again.

“I will leave, butyouare coming with me. Get in.” He lifted his hand, and she saw what was in it. He did have a gun. “Get in the car.”

“No.” She knew that she couldn’t get in the car with him. If she did, that was it. She tried to step around him, but he blocked her.

“Bex, get in thefuckingcar.” He slammed his fist down onto the trunk.

She flinched, and when she opened her eyes, she saw a familiar face beneath a Peaky Blinder hat. Mr. Santino was making his way up the walking path to the cottage with his cane, something he rarely, if ever, used, wearing his signature cap and cardigan.

“Morning, Mr. Santino.” Taylor waved, hoping that he would just keep walking. He did not like talking to anyone or anyone talking to him. She just wanted to ensure he’d keep walking.

The last thing she wanted was anyone to get hurt. Martin didn’t care about collateral damage. Especially if he thought there was no way he’d get caught because he had the perfect alibi and no one to prosecute since he had family in the D.A.’s office.

Her mind was racing. Maybe she should just get in the car with Martin. That way he would have what he wanted. Owen was safe now. He had his dad. He had people who cared about him. Martin was never going to stop.

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