Blacklisted (Loveless, Texas #3) - Jay Crownover Page 0,16

what the doctor was up to, or why I continually found myself unable to leave her alone.

I was irritated that even though the slate between us was technically wiped clean since she’d saved my life and then I’d saved hers, I still felt a twinge of responsibility toward keeping her safe. After all, that bullet might have been meant for me. She adamantly insisted I didn’t owe her anything more, but if she wasn’t going to look out for herself, maybe she needed someone else to do it for her.

I wasn’t sure why I believed that the someone else looking out for her had to be me, but I couldn’t fight back the urge to follow her and see what she was up to.

The bell over the door dinged when I entered, drawing curious looks from the young man behind the counter and the elderly woman checking out. I nodded in greeting and started to make my way up and down the different aisles in search of that red hair.

At first, I didn’t see Presley anywhere. It was like she’d disappeared into thin air, even though I knew for certain she hadn’t left through the front door. I was about to go ask the cashier if she’d maybe gone out the back when I was suddenly hit in the face with a blinding spray of something chemical and potent. My eyes immediately started to burn, and I began hacking like my lungs were trying to climb out of my throat. I couldn’t see anything through the water flooding my eyes, and I could hardly breathe.

“Oh!” The soft exclamation was followed by gentle hands grabbing my face. “It’s you. Why are you following me?” Presley’s voice was equally concerned and condemning.

“What did you spray me with?” I wanted to gag and couldn’t get the truly awful taste out of my mouth.

Since I couldn’t see, I let Presley drag me toward the front of the store, where she demanded to know where an eye-flushing kit might be located.

Once we were situated in another aisle, I asked again what she got me with through fits of hacking.

“Umm…bug spray. Why are you following me?” She pushed my head back and I felt her body lean into mine as she reached up to dump the eyewash solution into my burning eyes. “Don’t blink until I tell you.”

I had to fight the urge to squeeze my eyes shut, but her fingers pressed my cheeks and held my face still.

“I wasn’t following you. I saw you running down the sidewalk and got curious. You looked like you were running from someone…or something.”

Slowly, the sting in my eyes lessened and my blurry vision started to come back into focus. My mouth still felt like I’d just drunk a gallon of diesel fuel, and my throat felt raw, but the cough subsided as Presley quietly asked, “Did you swallow any of it? If so you need to go to the ER and get your stomach pumped. That stuff is highly poisonous.”

Her touch was incredibly tender, and so was her voice as it wrapped around me.

I caught one of her wrists in my hand and pulled her fingers away from my face. “I’m fine. Tell me why you were running and why you looked so afraid.”

She tried to tug free, but I tightened my hold, not letting her go. We stared at each other for a long moment, then she relented.

“I’ve been staying with Kody and her boyfriend since the shooting. She finally went back to work today, and Hill got called out on a new assignment. I was getting stir-crazy and I thought a quick run into town wouldn’t hurt anything. I also planned on stopping by my apartment to grab a few things. As soon as I left Kody’s I got this feeling like I was being watched. The sensation got worse when I got into town. I’m probably just being paranoid, but I was convinced that someone was following me. Then you appeared out of nowhere and”—she shrugged sort of helplessly—“I’m sorry I overreacted.”

This time when she tugged on her wrist, I let her go. I went to rub my eyes and got my hands smacked away.

“Don’t touch. It’ll make it worse.”

I sighed and let my arms drop to my sides. “You were in the line of fire not too long ago. Seems to me like it’s a good thing you’re on high alert. If I had been following you, your reaction was on point. I think