up in the store twenty-five minutes later. Brooding and wishing she’d maybe asked Cole to meet her, she locked up and started toward her car.
It was cold, the bite of winter still heavy in the air, despite the fact that it was almost near the end of February. The corset she wore managed to keep her warmer than one would think, and the camisole she wore under it rose high enough to keep her chest from being too cold. She’d always been terribly lazy with coats. She had one on now, but as always, she hadn’t bothered to button it and she was cold.
As she hurried toward her car, the low, thick heels of her motorcycle boots thudding heavily on the ground, she muttered, “Spring. I want spring.”
Warm sun.
Longer days.
Fewer shadows—
Suddenly, one of the shadows shifted.
Rocki jerked her head up as a man emerged from them. Her breath caught in her chest, lodged there.
In the past ten years, Dwayne Carpenter’s solid body hadn’t softened much. He’d played football in college and a lot of that bulk was still there. He looked…older, though. Older. Meaner. As he lifted a hand to stroke his jaw, she suppressed a shiver, remembering just how much pain those big hands had been capable of causing.
He had very cold, very cruel eyes—she hadn’t seen that back all those years ago. At least not right away. But it was unmistakable now. She went still, staring at him. With one hand in her pocket, she gripped her phone and wondered if she could call 9-1-1 without him noticing.
“Hello, Roxanne.” That voice—fuck. Lower than it used to be, raspier. Harsher. That voice was distinctive, and she knew she’d heard it before…and recently. The night of the auction. Son of a bitch. It had been him there that night, the other one bidding on her.
“Dwayne.”
He took a step toward her. Her first instinct was to step back, but she didn’t. She held her ground, watching him, as he closed the distance even more. “You look as beautiful as ever.”
She didn’t respond. What was the point?
“Nothing to say?”
“And why should I say anything?” Rocki lifted a brow. “You want me to say thanks to the man who tried to rape me eleven years ago?”
Somebody ugly and cold flashed through his eyes. But he smiled. “Perhaps you should be saying ‘thank you’ to the man who never stopped loving you. Never stopped thinking about you. I saw you at the auction—you looked lovely, but you shouldn’t parade around like that. It’s…not acceptable.”
Acceptable? She curled her lip at him.
He was closer now and he lifted a hand. But before he could touch her, Rocki used her left arm to block him, putting enough force behind it that it sent a jolt clear up her arm. “Don’t touch me,” she warned.
“Bitch.” A snarl twisted his face. “Don’t you fucking know what I do when you piss me off? And your cop’s not around any more...yeah, I heard about that. He can’t protect you now.”
Rocki smiled. “I don’t need a man protecting me, Dwayne.” She shifted, set her feet, absently saying a prayer of gratitude that she’d put on a different kind of shoes today. Normally, she would have worn something with high heels. But today, she’d pulled on a pair of Harley Davidson boots—flat and heavy with solid, sturdy soles. She could move just fine, without worrying about breaking an ankle.
Hate and possessiveness burned in Dwayne’s eyes. “Don’t you? You hid behind him for years. Fucking cunt. Can’t do it now, though—I finally heard he got what was coming to him, that fucker. Rotting in his grave and you can’t hide behind him.”
“I didn’t hide behind him. I married him.” Slipping a hand into her coat pocket, she said, “You need to leave now. Just get the hell away and stay away. I’ve already called the cops about the cards and the flowers. The investigating officer is already looking for you.”
“Is he?” Dwayne laughed. “That’s funny, because I’m not here tonight—I got a friend who will swear I was working on a car with him.”
Then he lunged for her.
Rocki shifted her weight and kicked. The fucking corset threw her balance off, but she managed, driving the sidekick straight into his gut. As he stumbled backward, she settled back onto her feet. “I’m not the helpless girl you remember, jackass.”
Cutting a wide berth around him, she started toward her car. She was going to get inside, lock the fucking door, and get away from here.