Dream Of You - Jennifer L. Armentrout Page 0,15

my body rose as if an army of cockroaches was running loose on my skin. I looked over my shoulder at him.

He stood by the back of his van with a close-lipped smile. A cold one. Predatory. “The Abby Ramsey, born and raised in Plymouth Meeting? Married her high school sweetheart who tragically passed away in a car accident about four years ago? The same Abby Ramsey who works from home as a freelance editor?”

Holy shit.

Holy shit balls on Sunday.

“Yeah, that’s you,” he continued. “You saw something last night that we need to chat about.”

Talking was the last thing we needed to do. My heart pounded in my chest as I faced him. Why did the parking lot seem so empty now? It wasn’t. People were milling around, but no one was paying attention to us. My gaze darted to the entry of the grocery store, trying to determine the distance if I had to make a run for it.

I wasn’t much of a runner.

He took a step forward, and I blanched, lifting the heavy bag, prepared to swing if he got any closer. He raised his hands. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Famous last words. “Don’t come any closer to me.”

“I’m not. We can have our little conversation from a distance if that makes you happy.” He smiled again, but it was chilling. “All I need you to understand, and I need you to really get this, is that you’re not going to be able to identify anyone from last night.”

An icy knot balled in my stomach.

“That’s all, and that’s not a big deal, is it? Just keep your mouth shut from here on out and nothing bad will happen. And you don’t want anything bad to happen, do you?”

I was beyond responding, my heart thumping heavily in my chest. That was a threat, a very thinly veiled threat. Part of me couldn’t believe this was happening.

“We want to make sure you keep your mouth shut,” he said in the same friendly, conversational tone. “And I think you’ll understand fairly quickly how serious we are.”

Just then, the passenger window rolled down and all I saw was an arm extend out. A hand popped the side of the van, causing my heart to jump. The man backed up then, clapping his hands together as he said, “Now you have a nice evening.”

I didn’t move as he walked back to the van and climbed in. I didn’t move when the old thing hunkered to life or when it pulled straight through the empty spot in front of it, turning left to head out of the parking lot.

“Oh my God,” I whispered.

In a daze, I shoved my groceries into the trunk of my car with jerky, quick motions, and then I climbed in behind the wheel. I didn’t even think for one second about what to do next. There was no way I was not going to call the police. Forget that. Before I left for dinner, I had shoved Colton’s card in my purse. My mind raced. It made sense to call him because he knew what was going on. Calling 911 meant I’d have to tell them everything all over again.

As I pulled my cellphone out of my purse with a shaky hand, its unexpected shrill ring startled a tiny shriek out of me. Jesus. I looked down at the screen. It was a local number I didn’t recognize. Normally I wouldn’t answer, but for some unknown reason, this time I did.

I placed it to my ear and croaked out, “Hello?”

“Abby?”

My free hand landed on the steering wheel. I recognized the voice immediately. “Colton? I—”

“Thank fucking God you answered,” he said, cutting me off. “Where are you?”

I blinked slowly, completely thrown off. “I’m…I’m sitting in the parking lot of the grocery store near…near Mona’s.”

“I want you to listen to me, okay?” There was the sound of a car door slamming and an engine keying on. “I want you to go inside and stay there, okay. Do not go home.”

Chapter 6

I had kind of done what Colton had demanded. I’d gone into the grocery store and waited near their pharmacy, and when I spotted Reece, his younger brother, prowling through the sliding doors, I knew something really bad had happened.

Reece, a deputy with the county sheriff’s office, had been in his uniform. I saw Reece around town a lot and knew he was seriously dating one of the bartenders over at Mona’s, a girl we’d gone to school with, but for