Page 22 of Dart to Me
There’s a pause, and something in him seems to give. He looks at me, really looks at me, with an expression I can’t quite read. Maybe this time he finally gets it. Maybe this time he’ll finally leave me alone. He turns and starts to walk away, each step heavy with what he didn’t want but now has to accept.
“It’s you who should be careful, not me,” I say, louder this time, so he can hear it even though he’s still pretending not to. I expect him to turn back, to say something else, to keep pushing like he always does, but this time he doesn’t. This time he goes.
This time, as I watch him walk away, I feel something new—a lightness, a sense of finally being free of him. I can breathe again. I turn back to my books, but my focus is gone. What Miles said about Rick keeps circling in my head, an unwelcome reminder of the past I’ve been trying to escape.
Rick.Even thinking his name sends a chill through me. Miles isn’t entirely wrong—Rick was dangerous. Is dangerous. Butthe idea that Julian has anything to do with him is ridiculous. Just another of Miles’ desperate attempts to keep me under his thumb.
I pack up my things, glancing at my watch. My shift ends in twenty minutes, but Marcia won’t mind if I duck out early. Not after covering for her three times last month.
“Heading out?” she asks as I pass the front desk.
“Yeah, if that’s okay. Got some things to take care of at home.”
She waves me off with a smile. “Go on. It’s dead in here, anyway.”
Outside, my car sits alone in the far corner, where I always park it. Away from other cars, away from prying eyes. Old habits.
As I approach, I notice something tucked under my windshield wiper. A piece of paper, folded in half. My heart stutters. I glance around, scanning the empty lot, the street beyond. Nothing seems out of place, no one watching from the shadows.
With trembling fingers, I unfold the note. Three words.
I miss you.
No signature. No clue who left it. It could be Miles, still not getting the message. It could be...
No. I won’t let my mind go there. Rick is in the past. He has to be.
I crumple the note and toss it in the nearest trash can, but the unease follows me home, sitting heavy in my chest like a stone.
Julian’s waiting on my porch when I pull into my driveway. He stands as I approach, his smile faltering when he sees my face.
“Everything okay?”
I force a smile. “Yeah, just a long day.” I don’t mention Miles or the note. No need to drag Julian into my mess.
“I brought dinner,” he says, holding up a paper bag that smells like heaven. “Thai, from that place you mentioned.”
My stomach growls in response, and a genuine smile breaks through. “You’re a lifesaver.”
Inside, we settle on the couch with containers of pad thai. Julian talks about his day at the construction site, and I find myself relaxing, the tension from earlier melting away. This feels normal. Safe.
My phone buzzes with a text.
874-345-2356: Nice car. Can’t believe you gave up the blue Honda.
“What is it?” Julian asks, noticing my expression.
I set the phone down, the screen dark. “Nothing. Just spam.”
Later, after Julian leaves with a lingering kiss at the door, I double-check all the locks. Draw all the curtains. Pull out the baseball bat I keep under my bed and place it within arm’s reach.
Sleep doesn’t come easily. When it does, I dream of Rick.
JULIAN
Ellie has seemedoff for the last couple of days. Almost scared. Is Miles still coming around? Giving her crap about me? I don’t want to step in, but maybe I should.
“Boss, there’s something here to see you,” one of the guys says, pointing to the makeshift office building, which is really just a small shed.
