Page 64 of Bed of Thorns

Even though I tried to go back to the painting, I continued to have weird vibes. It was already after five, but there was no way of telling when Edmond would get home. There was nothing worse than feeling like a caged animal, incapable of catching a moment of freedom. I paced the floor, finally deciding my workday had ended. Maybe a glass of wine would calm my nerves.

After opening the bottle and pouring a glass, I tried to think about what to prepare for dinner but quickly realized I wasn’t in the mood. Finally, I headed toward the back door, determined to shove it aside. A walk on the beach would help. It always did. Yet the second I opened the door and headed onto the deck, the ugly sense of being watched returned.

A man stood on the outskirts of the property near the water. My stomach lurched as I moved toward the railing. The distance was far enough I couldn’t distinguish his features, but it was easy to tell he was wearing a dark suit. What in the hell was going on? I took several sips, studying him. He stood still, his arms behind his back. There was no doubt he was watching me.

Prickles popped up on my arms, but I also felt a moment of fury. Whoever was stalking me was irritating me. After a full two minutes had passed and the man hadn’t moved, I was intent on finding out who the fuck he was. I placed my wine on the table, taking several deep breaths and trying to convince myself to let it go, but that wasn’t my personality. I was finished with some asshole threatening me or us. We’d paid our dues. We were trying to live a normal life.

No asshole was going to threaten our happiness ever again.

I would find out who he was. When I turned around, I hissed.

The asshole had left.

I raced down the stairs, running toward the beach, yanking off my shoes and tossing them so I could chase after him in the sand. As I bolted for the spot where he’d been standing, a nagging voice inside my head told me to turn around.

But I ignored it.

There was no indication of where he’d gone, other than there was a bank of trees lining the property on one side. After only a second of hesitation, I headed into the thick of them, struggling almost immediately with the tangled underbrush, the natural area not having been cleaned of fallen limbs and other debris. Within seconds, my feet were bloody, yet I pushed my way past the low foliage even though my legs were scratched by the vines, my hair caught by the greenery. How could the man have disappeared into thin air?

I pressed forward until I reached the other side of the trees into another clearing. Two houses were located near the beach, the long stretch of sand leading to points unknown. There was no sign of him, no sound of a gunning engine or a boat that I could see in the distance. I turned in a full circle, fighting to rid my mind of the feeling I was still being watched, just from a different vantage point.

A cold chill drifted down my arms and legs, the light breeze skipping along my skin no longer refreshing. After folding my arms, I walked along the edge of the water to avoid the thick trees, the sight of them haunting. There was no doubt we were in someone’s radar, that person determined to keep tabs on our life.

As I headed back to the house, I continuously looked over my shoulder, the creepy-crawlies refusing to leave. Now I felt like a rat in a cage, an experiment of some kind. While that didn’t make any sense, nothing did at this point. The strange, ugly vibrations never left as I headed toward the house. With the waning sun providing a glare, I shielded my eyes, glancing at the structure.

Edmond was home early. He stood on the back deck, staring out at the ocean. When he saw me, he smiled, moving toward the stairs. I shot one last look over my shoulder before grabbing my shoes and heading in his direction.

“There you are,” he said in his husky voice as he wrapped his arms around me.

That’s when I realized I was shaking, doing everything I could to shove the last few minutes aside.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.” I pushed away, trying to move past him.

He gripped my arms, tugging me backward. “No, what is wrong? Your face and arms are scratched. That’s not nothing.”

Swallowing, I brushed hair from my face then closed my eyes. “Someone was watching the house.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Let’s go inside.”

“You’re really frightened.”

“It was weird, disturbing. I went after him through the woods, trying to see where he’d gone, but the man had disappeared. How? A boat?”

His grip was firm, still refusing to let me go. A snarl erupted from his lips as he glanced toward the shoreline. “You shouldn’t have gone after him. That was foolish. Don’t you know there are very bad people out there? Nothing can happen to you. Nothing.”

“I’m fine.” While my words sounded insistent, the trepidation remained. He shook me, furious that I’d disobeyed some unknown rule.

“Tell me everything you know. Describe this person.”

I couldn’t shake the feeling that everything we did was being seen, the ridiculous goosebumps remaining. “Please, let’s go inside.” I jerked away, folding my arms.

Huffing, he allowed me to walk past, remaining where he was. I’d already grabbed my wine and had entered the house by the time he headed up the stairs. The look on his face as he walked into the room wasn’t readable, but I sensed the same anger as weeks before, threatening to become explosive.

“Now, tell me everything,” he demanded.

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