Chapter 15

Tori Townsend

Rain. It's always the rain.

I'm being pelted with it while I walk down the road, balancing on the yellow, faded centerline. The rain is cold against my skin, and the breeze that comes with the night air is chilly. It's an all-too-familiar scene, this road. This weather. This area.

I stop in my tracks, letting the droplets drip into my eyes and blur my vision. Why am I here? It seems so . . . I glance at the road and watch as dark blood mixes with the flow of rain that drains down the side of the pavement. It touches my bare feet, mixing in the space between my toes.

My breath catches in my throat, and I start to hop back, but movement to my right makes me swiftly turn. A woman stands there, and everything comes crashing back. That night. That crash. Her dead eyes. But at this moment, her dead eyes are very much alive. The woman I hit stands there with the lilies as her background. Even though I feel fear, I slowly make my way toward her, off the road, past the bench, and all the way until I stand before her.

I shake, knees knocking together, and it has nothing to do with the chill.

The rain doesn't seem to affect her. It's as though it parts just for her. Her hair isn't wet. Her clothes are not soaked. The bottom of her dress doesn't blow with the breeze, but the middle of her dress pulls tight around her swollen belly.

Blood drips from her nose, however, cascading around the hills of her lips to race toward her chin. She opens her mouth to say something, her teeth covered in blood, but no words come out.

"I can't hear you," I say above the pelting rain. She mouths something again, and I frown. "What?"

Sorrow takes over her face, and her lips pull downward in disappointment. She looks at her hand by her side and then lifts her arm. Once it's in front of me, she turns her wrist and points to the brand there, that of a lily that mimics the shadows of those behind her.

And then she collapses to the ground, a heap of the mess I found her in when I hit her – limbs twisted in the wrong direction, gaze on the flowers.

A fresh wave of fear grips me, and I drop to my knees, quietly begging her to stay alive.

I jolt awake and gasp for air. Papers fly from my chest and flutter to the ground, and because of the blood rushing through my ears, it takes me a moment to realize where I am.

My dark living room comes into view as goosebumps rise over my skin. The dream felt so real. The rain, the cold, and the intense emotions. I thought I had been doing a good job ignoring the fact of what I did, but my subconscious rears its ugly head and makes me relive the scariest parts of it.

Slowly, I sit up on the couch and run a hand through my hair. The lamp on the end table beside me casts a soft glow around the living room, aiding me in getting a grip on my surroundings.

"It was just a dream," I whisper shakily to myself. "Just a dream."

I tap my cheeks to get feeling back into them and lean over the couch to pick up the papers I had dropped. I didn't mean to fall asleep getting the paperwork together for Derek, but I must have been exhausted, closed my eyes for a second, and drifted off.

Leafing through the mess in my hands, I re-order them and straighten the stack on my knee. Nowadays, the paperwork is handled electronically, but Derek is old-fashioned and likes it all to be on physical copies. It makes more work for me, but I honestly don't mind. His business is keeping a roof over my head.

A prickly sensation begins at the back of my neck, just like the one I felt when I was in the alley. This time, I listen to it right away and freeze. With a quick swivel of my eyes, I glance around the room. Aside from the furniture, I'm alone, but that doesn't make me breathe easier. I'm being watched . . . but from where?

I flick my attention to the TV on the wall. Even though it's dark, it reflects the view outside my big window. Fear, just like that of my dream, spikes in my veins when I see an orange blob amid the darkness. It may be blurry from the warped reflection, but I've seen that raincoat enough to recognize it even in a distorted state.

Though I don't want to, even though everything screams in me not to, I turn my head toward the window. The tall bush-like trees sway before my vision falls solely on what I'm searching for, and a blur of orange leaves the window .

Papers flying once again to the ground, I leap off the couch because, even if I didn't see an actual person, I know one was there. I stand there for a moment, eyes searching the darkness while every pore on my body is prickling with awareness.

That person had to have been tall, based on how high my window is and the height of the blob in my TV. I can think of only one person who is that tall and also owns one of those raincoats. There's also only one person I know who would have the audacity to spy on me too, who hates me enough to do so.

"Kent," I breathe out.

I head to the window, a fresh wave of fear and added anger gripping me. Not only was he watching me while I was vulnerable, but the entire thing felt predatorial. I don't like to be scared in my own home, and he just took my safety from me in a matter of seconds. How long was he watching me? Why was he watching me? What did he plan to do?

I search outside my window, but I see nothing but darkness and wet road. Either he took off faster than I could get my wits about me, or he's still hanging around.

Whipping back around, I snatch my phone off the end table and stand there for a moment, debating about who to call. Do I call Tegan? It's late, and she could be in bed. I don't want to disturb her sleep. I could call Cole and ask him to stop over and make sure I'm truly alone now, but that could wake up Tegan too.

I glance at the back door, the one that leads to the backyard and the B he just happens to be staying in town and not in the woods like everyone else." He looks down and flexes his jaw, so I add, "Look into them. Hell, look into the donut shop's owner if you have to. Do your job, and get the hell off my property."

He glances up from under his lashes and sees that he's no longer welcome. Giving a quick nod, he turns on his heel and strides away, but he stops next to Killian and murmurs, "This isn't over, Savage."