Page 100 of Lethal Threat
“Sierra, where thehellare you? Call me immediately. Jesus. I’m going mad here. I need to know you are safe. Right now I’m having visions of you dying in a snowbank, or being kidnapped. Or… fuck. Just call me!”
I close my eyes and rest my head against the wall outside the airport bathroom.
Why? I just want him gone from my life.
He destroyed my life. Then lied to me about being my fiancé.
To help me,that little voice says in my head.
But I’ll never forgive him for what he did to Bryan. My brother, my only family.
The next voicemail is worse.
Cole’s voice is thick with emotion. “Sierra, all of the Strong clan and Agile team are out searching for you. We’re worried sick. Call me the instant you get this.”
The last message raises the hair on my arms. “I won’t stop until I know you’re safe.” He disconnects.
I’m a walking emotional disaster by the time I finally reach the revolving exit door. I stumble into a man as I try to hurry out the sliding glass doors. “Oh, excuse me. Sorry, I didn’t see you.”
The man, tall and thickly muscled, has close cropped hair, with eyes made of obsidian. My gut reaction is that the guy is scary.
And pissed.
I bumped into the wrong guy. His angular jaw is lockedtight. There’s something disarming about the way he’s looking at my face.
“S-sorry,” I stammer, as I take a step back.
He tilts his head and sharpens his focus on me. “Do I know you?”
Ice water courses through my veins.
“Uh, no. I don’t think so. Excuse me, I need to go.”
I feel his eyes on me when I turn and duck out to the busy sidewalk outside the terminal. The hairs stay raised on my neck for a long time.
Cool drizzly rain lands on my face as I jog toward the ride share pick up lane. A few minutes later, I’m in a small Chevy sedan heading toward my apartment.
“Messy morning,” says the driver, “it’s going to be like this all day.”
Obviously making chitchat.
I’m not in the mood for small talk, but I force a reply. “I just came in from Utah, so it feels warm.”
It’s a classic eastern Virginia winter morning. Cole can have Utah. Serves him right to be cold.
Cold Cole. Hm.
Through gritted teeth, I hiss, “Asshole.”
The driver glances up.
Oops. I murmur, “Sorry. Not you.”
The scent of Cole still clings to me and only adds fuel to the angry fire burning in my gut. I may not have remembered the anger before. But I sure do now.
Cole Strong will never touch me again.
As I stare out the window at the gray landscape, the pain of the night Cole ruined my world sears through my heart.
