Page 64 of Waitress at the Shadow Ridge Inn
The silence was utterly deafening. And so wrong.
There was no sign of Angie. I hoped that meant everything was going according to plan. That she was safely hidden away, phone in hand, ready to make that call and have my back. I couldn’t allow myself to believe otherwise or else I wouldn’t be able to do what I needed to do. I had to stay focused and alert and have faith that everything was going to work out.
Clutching my pepper spray in one hand, I grabbed the oversize bag from the passenger seat and slid it over my shoulder. Inside was my Club of Persuasion. I adjusted the tote so the tip of the club was behind my shoulder, out of sight but accessible. With one step back and a quick twist, it would be in my hand, ready to do some damage. I knew because I’d practiced the move over and over and had it down.
I ran through the sequence in my head. A shot of pepper spray to the eyes, a few well-placed swings of the club to disable, and then, if feasible, use the zip ties I also had in the bag to contain my would-be attacker until the police arrived.
You’ve got this, Casey.
My rubber-soled shoes made little noise as I climbed the three wooden steps and crossed the covered porch. I offered up a silent prayer and willed my hand to stop trembling enough to insert the key into the lock. The door creaked as I opened it, the noise ringing out like a gunshot in the silence. Taking a deep breath, I stepped inside.
My guardian angel freaked out. My skin prickled, not just at the back of my neck, but all over my body. My muscles tensed, and adrenaline flooded my bloodstream. Someone was here.
My courage evaporated instantly.What the hell had I been thinking? I couldn’t do this.
I turned, prepared to run back to my Jeep, call the sheriff, and let the authorities handle this.
I didn’t make it.
A large hand clamped over my mouth at the same time a strong arm wrapped around my waist and hauled me back against a lean, muscular male body. I struggled, but it did little good. He was nearly a foot taller than me and much stronger.
“Stop,” a deep male voice commanded against my ear. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m here tohelpyou.”
I went still. I recognized that voice. I had heard it in my head at night only a few weeks ago, even if I hadn’t comprehended the words it had spoken.
Not Death then. A flesh-and-blood man.Thisflesh-and-blood man.
“Will you listen?” he asked.
I swallowed and jerked my head in a nod the best I could with him holding me as tight as he was.What choice did I have?
He pulled us both farther into the room, removing his hand from his mouth but keeping me in his grasp. He relieved me of my pepper spray and my shoulder bag, tossing both toward the kitchen.
The moment he released me, I whipped around and looked at him. Angie had been right. ItwasAaron Carrington.
He looked different, but it was him. Instead of a custom-tailored suit, he wore dark jeans and a dark hoodie. His perfect hair was disheveled, as if he’d been running his hands through it. His normally clean-shaven jaw held a day or two of scruff. His dark eyes, usually so cool and professional, burned with an emotion I couldn’t immediately identify.
I backed away as far as I could, wrapping my arms over my chest. He didn’t pursue me, but he remained between me and any means of escape. Over his shoulder, I saw the closet door open ever so slightly and nearly collapsed in relief. Angie was here!
My panic subsided just enough to allow my brain to function. I had to remember my part. I needed to keep him talking, get him to admit what he had done so Angie could record everything. The police should already be on their way, and if they weren’t, they would be soon.
“So, you’re my stalker,” I said as haughtily as I could.
“Stalker?” He barked out a laugh, but there was no amusement in the sound. Only sadness. “Yes, I suppose I am. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”
The words were familiar. Only, the last time I’d heard them, I hadn’t registered them as anything more than unintelligible mumbles. “You said those words to me once before.”
He looked surprised. “You remember that?”
I nodded. “I thought you were a hallucination. I thought you were Death.”
His mouth turned downward, but there was a glimmer of hope in his eyes, which I found bizarre. “What else do you remember?”
I shrugged, as if it wasn’t one of the worst memories of my life. “Lying in a drainage ditch in excruciating pain, thinking I was dying. Why? Why did you do it?”
“Are you seriously asking me why I saved your life?”
It was my turn to frown at him.
