Page 4 of Maybe This Time
Anticipation.
Excitement.
Warmth.
Until it all turned into deception.
I instantly shook myself out of it before I ended up staying home, right on this floor, rereading every single one of them until I got to the last one. Over and over again like I used to do until I had to mentally slap myself and move on. I hadn’t had the heart to get rid of his letters, but I wouldn’t drown myself in what-ifs and whys tonight.
As Josie said, tonight was about fun. And I’d be damned if I didn’t try.
Minus the dicks.
CHAPTER 3
TALYA
“Excuse me,sir. Are you sure this is the right place?” I asked my driver as he pulled to a stop on a deserted street.
“Yes, ma’am,” the older gentleman replied, looking at me in the rearview mirror. “That’s the address you input as your destination,” he added, almost irritated. Like I was holding up his precious time by not darting out of his car the moment he parked.
Men.
My brows drew together as I peered to my right at what looked like an abandoned building. I might not have a lot of club experience, but shouldn’t there be a line outside or at least someone watching the door?
I glanced down at my phone to check my maps app. I’d been following along while he drove. One could never be too careful. Women were kidnapped all the time and even though I shared my ride with my sister—like I always did—it wasn’t like she could do much from the other side of the planet.
I frowned when I realized it was, in fact, the address on the invitation I had tucked into the smallest purse I could find on my way out.
“Oh, okay. Well, thank you,” I murmured before stepping out of the black sedan. I’d barely made it onto the sidewalk when he took off. My heart sank as I looked around me, waiting for someone with a purgatory mask to come out and murder me.
This is exactly how white people fucking die in movies.
I quickly pulled up my rideshare app to request another car, but strangely nothing was loading. A gust of wind whipped across my skin and I mentally cursed myself for not bringing a coat. I’d been too preoccupied with getting out of the house and not thinking about the stupid letters to realize I’d forgotten to grab one.
I closed the app and tried again without any luck. Anxiety coursed through my veins as I fought off the small voice in my head telling me that this was it, the moment when a serial killer murdered me because I’d been stupid to listen to my sister and go out alone.
Taking in a shaky breath, I swiped through my contacts to call the cab company I’d saved, only for the call to fail.
Great. Just fantastic.
As I checked my screen to see why, a deep baritone voice called my name.
“Talya Morrone?”
An unknown noise came out of me as I swung around and slammed my purse down at whatever was behind me. More words were said, but all my brain could think of was how I would survive this. In my spare time, I occasionally thought of escape plans and what I’d do if someone tried to kidnap me, but I never thought I’d be put in a scenario where it actually happened.
I knew I should have gone to those self-defense classes when Sammie suggested them. At least I’d do better than using a flimsy clutch to defend myself.
If I didn’t die tonight or live forever in a moldy basement at someone’s expense, I’d book a flight to London and murder mysister for putting me in this position. There was no way I could run in these heels and no one was nearby to hear me scream.
“Ms. Morrone,” whoever was attacking me said louder this time and just as I was about to hit it again, they rushed out, “I’m here to escort you to Mystique.”
His words finally registered and I paused mid-swing. My eyes focused on the man hunched behind me with his hands up. He looked barely older than I was and wore a tailored black suit that looked really expensive, his hair perfectly combed back.
But there was no purgatory mask in sight.
He carefully stood to his full height, his hands still held up to convey his harmlessness as he took a few steps back to put a safe distance between us.
