Chapter 2

2

PRESENT DAY

"A elina, can you get the table in the back corner for me, please?" my boss asks as she slides past me with her hands full of dirty dishes.

After checking that I have my order pad, I walk to where she gestured. Two men sit there dressed in business attire. They lean over the table, their voices hushed with quick glances around them as though they're looking over their shoulders for some reason. I don't miss the instant silence as I approach, their heated stares penetrating me.

My face heats as I reach their table. One of them locks eyes on me and snaps his mouth shut, his gaze sinister.

I can't stop the shiver that runs down my spine. Something about these two men doesn't sit right with me. A dangerous kind of energy radiates off them. Is it their quiet but angry voices? The cruel twist of lips on the man on the right as he laughs?

No.

It's their eyes.

Those cold, fathomless eyes. Another shiver rips through me, and I plaster on a fake smile when I approach them. "What can I get for you both today?" I ask, my pen at the ready.

They simply look at me, their eyes not leaving my face.

Silence.

"I-I can come back if you're not ready?" I stutter, the weight of their stare unnerving me.

This seems to snap them out of whatever thoughts were going through their heads. They quickly turn their attention away, holding their menus and studying them with purpose.

As I wait, I take this opportunity to consider them up close. The vibe emanating from this table brings the fear I felt six months ago to the front of my mind. It's a night I wish not to remember, but the nightmares were never-ending until I started seeing someone about three months ago. Only then did things start to become more normal.

One of the men has dark hair, dark eyes that are cold and distant, and a face sculpted to perfection with a squared jawline. He clears his throat, drawing my attention. "Can I get a coffee and the breakfast special, please?"

Mid-order, I stop writing.

That voice .

Where have I heard it before?

Before I can collect my thoughts, the other guy speaks. "I'll have the same, please. Coffees are both black with two sugars."

I struggle to scribble down the orders as my hands begin to tremble.

The second guy has a face that appears angry and demands power. In his black suit pants and a white shirt with rolled-up sleeves, he's actually pretty hot—any girl's wet dream. But he puts fear into the pit of my stomach as though acid has settled there, and it has my flight senses kicking in.

The first man's face and voice—there's something about them I can't seem to shake.

"All right, I'll have the coffees out soon."

I hightail it away from the table. Flashes of that night I nearly died play like a series of photos through my head. Since it was dark with hardly any moonlight over the dense woods, I never clearly saw the face of the guy who saved me. I heard his voice, though, and maybe I could be hearing things, but that man's voice sounds so familiar it causes the hairs on the back of my neck to stand up.

My hands tremble as I attempt to stick the order up for the chef.

After I ran away that night, I never looked back. I started fresh. There was enough money in that roll of cash to pay for an apartment and all furnished, to last a month. I found this job shortly after and have been doing much better since then.

"Excuse me, miss."

I stiffen, slowly turning toward that familiar voice. Then I'm hit with the scent of pine, instantly reminding me of the woods.

"Uh...can I help you? Did you want to add something to your order?" The shake in my voice is noticeable, and I'm positive he can hear it.

He glances back over his shoulder toward his companion. "Everything is fine. I wanted to know if you ever looked at the piece of paper I gave you?"

Everything stops. My entire body starts trembling, and I begin backing away from the counter.

He must see the fear on my face because he rushes to say, "Don't worry, I won't hurt you."

I know I shouldn't trust him, but the gentle way he's addressing me makes me want to know more.

"I'm sorry, but I don't know what you're talking about," I lie, straightening up my apron.

He leans back. "Okay. I must have you mistaken for someone else. Here." He slides a card and a piece of paper along the counter toward me.

Not this again .

I want to forget that night. I never opened the folded piece of paper, yet I didn't throw it out either. I put it in a box in the back of my closet and never opened it again.

"Um...thanks. I don't need this, though." I push it back to him as he's about to walk away.

He smiles, and that smile does things to my insides. "One day, you'll need to know my name. A storm is coming, and you aren't prepared. I suggest you figure out the puzzle. Go to the woods. There you will find your answers."

My brows furrow in confusion. Are we speaking in riddles now? "Look, I'm sorry. I don't know who you think I am, but I think you have me mistaken for someone else." I place my hands on my hips, and thankfully, the chef calls out orders that need to go to my tables. "I have to get back to work. If you'll excuse me."

I turn to grab the plates when there's a light touch on my arm. I spin at the electrifying current pulsing through me. "Take this. You'll need it." He holds out the paper and card, and I snatch them from his hand, shoving them into my apron pocket. Then I turn my back to him, my heart racing.

My past is catching up with me. I still don't know why I was targeted that night, and to this day, I remember the man's words so clearly.

"Her family broke the rules...she must die."

As far as I'm aware, my parents left me at a hospital when I was younger, and I bounced from home to home until I was eighteen. I've had such a glamorous lifestyle that nearly ended in me getting killed for something I know nothing about.

Now, here I am at twenty-six, almost buried alive, and this guy is being all cryptic about the event in question.

After delivering the plates that were piling up, the two men's orders arrive. I don't want to go over there and be under their watchful eyes again.

Begrudgingly, I pick up the plates and take them to their table. "Miss, you forgot the coffees," the scary man says in a tone that suggests I am a useless waitress who should do her job better.

"Sorry. I'll get those for you now." I race off and get their drinks.

They dig into their meals as I walk away, but I keep turning back, staring, and the guy who spoke to me keeps looking my way. There's a kindness in his gaze but also a strength that frightens me.

I dig into my apron and pull out the card he gave me.

Hunter Wolfe.