Page 26 of On the Chase
“Did I…nudge you?” His eyes widened with completely unbelievable innocence. “So sorry. My leg—the one that was shot, you know—was feeling a bit stiff.”
Her eyes narrowed, and she saw the corner of his mouth quiver. Even after knowing him for such a short time, she was perfectly aware that he was holding back a laugh. “So sorry yourlegisstiff. Maybe you should walk a little to loosen it up.” She gestured toward the door. “How about that way?”
He laughed, and Grace turned her gaze back to her now disgustingly cold coffee so she didn’t reveal how much she liked the sound. “So, Grace Robinson…what’s your birth date?”
“Why?” The seemingly random question made her glance at him again. “Are you planning to steal my identity?”
That look of fake innocence was back, but this time there was a harder edge hiding beneath it. “Of course not.” He absently rubbed his thigh, and Grace wondered if his leg really was hurting. Three people—Dee, Jules, and Ty—had told her the story about how Hugh had been injured while heroically rescuing Sam during a school shooting. “Just wanted to make sure I knew when to bring over a birthday cake…and how many candles to put on it.”
“That’s okay. You won’t be invited to my birthday party anyw—You weasel!” It had taken her several confused seconds to realize why he wanted to know her birth date. The ass wasn’t just trying to get her to spill her secrets; he was actuallyinvestigatingher! A reflexive surge of anger quickly morphed into fear. Acopwas looking into her background, possibly checking databases and whatever other tools police had at their disposal. What had he found out about her? What did he know? Did Monroe share information with other police departments? Would Officer Jovanovic figure out that “Grace Robinson” from a small Colorado town was actually Kaylee Ramay from Los Angeles? Grace had no idea how police searches worked. All she knew was that she was screwed.
“I have to go.” She twisted off her stool so quickly that she lost her balance and was forced to stumble back a few steps. “I’m late for…” It was like her anxiety had made her brain shut off. She couldn’t be acting any more suspiciously if she’d tried. “Whatever. It’s none of your business anyway.” Her attempt to put more snap into her words failed when her voice quavered. It was time to walk away from this disaster before she made it worse.
“Hang on,” Hugh said, but the need to escape overwhelmed Grace. She couldn’t even pretend to act calm and unflustered. If she stayed, she was going to give herself away—even more than she already had.
Pivoting in a half circle, she scanned the viner for Jules, raising a hand in farewell when she caught her eye. Grace ignored Jules’sstay-there-I’ll-be-over-in-just-a-minutehand gestures and speed walked toward the door.
“Wait, Grace.” Hugh was behind her…rightbehind her. If she walked any faster, she’d be flat-out bolting, so she went for plan B—the women’s bathroom. The door was right next to the exit, so it only took her a few hurried steps to dodge inside. “Grace!”
The door closed behind her, shutting out Hugh. After quickly pushing in the button lock, Grace leaned back against the tiled wall. It was a tiny space without any stalls, just a sink and toilet. Grace’s stomach fell when she didn’t see any windows. It wouldn’t have helped, though. If she crawled out a restroom window to escape from Hugh’s questions, she’d only look guilty—guiltier.
A knock on the door made her jump. “Grace?” When she ignored him, the knocking increased in volume.
“Give me a minute!”
Thankfully, Hugh went quiet. She dreaded leaving the bathroom and facing him. The memory of how she’d checked him out, how his laugh had warmed her and her heart had sped up at his proximity, how comforting it had been to sit next to him while watching a soap opera, how stupidly safe he made her feel, brought an embarrassed flush to her cheeks. He wasinvestigatingher as if she were a criminal, at the same time that she was thinking how attractive he was. It was humiliating.
The seconds ticked by, and Grace knew she had to leave the bathroom, had to walk past Hugh and get to her car. Taking a deep breath, she pushed away from the wall and took a step toward the door.
The doorknob jiggled. She was opening her mouth to tell what was most likely a woman needing to use the bathroom that she’d be out in a second, when the button lock popped out.
Grace stared at it, horrified, as the knob turned and the door began to open. Suddenly, she was back in that bloody basement, watching the stairs. The torturers were coming back, they were here, and she was trapped. They were going to tie her up, and cut her, and beat her, and rip out one of her eyes, leaving a gaping, bloody socket—
“You okay?” Hugh asked, sticking his head and one burly shoulder through the opening.
Just like that, she jolted out of her waking nightmare, and her fear switched back to anger. “No! I’m not okay!” Her words came out in a screech. “You justpickedthelockon the women’sbathroomand stuck your big, stupid head inside while I wasin here!”
He shrugged, one corner of his mouth turning up. “It’s just a button lock. A two-year-old could’ve opened it. And it’s not like your pants are off or anything.” His gaze flickered down, and rage flared so strongly that her skin tingled. With a sound that came close to a roar, Grace shoved past him and stomped to the viner door.
“Grace,” Hugh called after her. The ass sounded like he was trying not to laugh. She didn’t even bother turning around, but slammed outside instead. The morning sunshine blinded her, and she stopped, blinking rapidly.
I’m not crying, she told herself, pressing the heels of her hands against her eyes.It’s just the sun. Hugh Murdoch isnotgetting to me.
The door opened behind her, bumping into her back and pushing her forward a couple of steps. Knowing exactly who was standing behind her, she whirled around and glared.
Her glare must’ve been on point, because Hugh actually stopped right outside the door and winced. Laughter was still there, though, bubbling just under the surface of his contrite expression, and that brought Grace’s rage up another notch, burning away any residual tears.
“You,” she said through gritted teeth. Her jaw actually ached from how hard she was clenching it.
Taking a step closer, he let the door swing shut behind him. “Yes?”
“You are the mostaggravatingperson I have ever met!”
“Really?” Although he looked relaxed, there was a sharp edge to his gaze. Grace couldn’t tell if it was interest or excitement or just the look of a bloodhound on a trail—her trail. “Most people find me rather soothing.”
“Liar.”
With a shrug, he took another step. Although Grace wanted to stand her ground, she wasn’t sure what would happen if he were within reach. Her hands itched to either punch him or grab him. Both would end badly, so she retreated a step.
