Page 88 of Bossy Wicked Prince
I ignore it. It’s cold—if I had a hood on my jacket, I’d be wearing it too. Still, I speed up my pace a bit when the walk signal comes on.
For four blocks, the guy stays behind me. I keep waiting for him to turn into a shop or cross the street, but he doesn’t. With every block, he gets a few feet closer to me. His legs are longer than mine—if he wanted to catch me, it would be all too easy.
Or maybe he just wants to hurry home where it’s warm, just like I do.
As much as I want to rationalize it away, I can’t shake the feeling that something’s up with this guy. This late on a Wednesday, the streets are practically empty. There’s nobody to stop him if he tries anything.
But in a few blocks, we’ll hit Allan Gardens. I can either go around the park, or cut through. If he really is following me, this could be my chance to shake him.
I bite my lip, considering. Nate would probably have a stroke if he knew I was considering taking the dark shortcut, but I know the paths well. Probably better than the guy behind me. If I hurry, I can get through the trees, around the conservatory, and out the other side in no time. If the guy does follow me, it’s dark—it’ll be easier to lose him there than out on the streets.
Fuck it. Abruptly, I turn right into the entrance. I speed walk, knowing that if I run, I might just provoke him to chase me.
I move quickly down the dark path, occasionally glancing behind me. It’s too dark for me to see if he’s still following me, so I don’t run. Not yet.
Soon, I’m out of the trees and within sight of the conservatory. When I reach the granite wall, I let out a sigh of relief. If he did chase me this far, I’m pretty sure I lost him.
“Well, well. Looks like I found a kitty Cat,” a dark voice says.
I whirl around and meet a familiar pair of blue eyes, glowing with ire. It doesn’t look like being fired has agreed with Harry. His facial hair is patchy and ungroomed, and dark shadows bloom under his eyes.
He shoves me hard against the wall, knocking the wind out of me. His hands close around my arms, squeezing so hard that I cry out in pain. That just makes him laugh.
“I think it’s time we had a little talk,” he says.
28
NATE
My Porsche screeches as I veer left in the intersection just before the light turns red. Thank god the roads are mostly empty this late on a Wednesday. Nobody to slow me down.
As soon as I saw that Cat’s Uber was canceled, I knew she’d walk home. I’d barely been able to talk her into taking a car at all. She’d go straight back to her old habits, no matter how much I hated them.
Because what right do I have to tell her what to do? We’re not dating. I’m just her boss.
Her boss who’s driving sixty miles an hour down city streets to find her.
I ran right down to the garage when I saw the cancellation. I just had a feeling in my gut that something bad was going to happen. Rationally, I know she’ll probably get home safe. I can guess the route she’d take from her café back to her apartments. If I’m right, she’ll be walking on a well-lit, well-trafficked road until she gets closer to Allan Gardens. The dark park she’s been known to cut through before, even late at night.
The place where my cameras always lose sight of her.
Gritting my teeth, I slow the car down so I can scan the sidewalk for Cat. If I find her, at least I can drive her the rest of the way home. She’ll probably call me a crazy stalker, but that’s fine. I’ll accept that if I can just see her and know she’s safe.
There are enough people out walking. I scan every head, every face, looking for the one I want.
With every block, the crowd gets thinner. By the time I’m close to the park, I don’t see a single person until?—
There she is.
My system floods with relief when I catch sight of Cat’s distinctive curly blonde hair. The streetlights bound off it in a silvery halo, making her look like some mystical creature. She’s walking quickly with her hands shoved deep in her coat jacket, her shoulders hunched. That’s unlike her.
She glances over her shoulder at a tall man maybe ten yards behind her. His hoodie covers his face, but I don’t need to see it to recognize immediately what’s happening.
He’s a threat, and Cat knows it. But instead of staying straight on the well-lit street, Cat turns into the shaded path into Allan Gardens.
Speeding up his pace, the man follows her.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
