Dangerous Stranger - Piper Stone

Chapter One

Savannah

Galicia, Spain

Once upon a time I believed in fairytales, but my fantasies as well as my ideals had been stripped from me on two occasions. The first one had left me bitter, angry that the world would rip away something so beautiful and loving in an instant, as if a life didn’t matter. The second would forever haunt me, leaving me with nightmares, although I’d learned early on that there was significant evil in this world.

On that very night it was confirmed.

Monsters did exist.

Danger.

The nagging feeling had settled into the pit of my stomach, my heart racing.

I glanced out the window at as the taxi driver careened down the street, passing by dozens of vehicles. I still had a firm grip on my overnight bag, for no particular reason other than it held a vast majority of the only belongings that mattered to me inside. Everything precious had somehow managed to fit in a twelve by twelve case. I bit back a groan at the thought. I had no idea where I was, the street signs and brightly lit stores with bold writing meaning little to me.

While I knew passable Spanish, the onslaught of names seemed overwhelming, leaving me questioning my impetuous decision. A cold chill shifted down my spine as the driver made a sweeping right turn, moving onto what appeared to be an even more desolate street. Confusion settled in, the kind that left my mouth dry and my head aching even more than it was.

“Perdoneme,” I said as I leaned forward, glancing from right to left. This couldn’t be right. “Perdoneme!” I growled again when the driver didn’t bother to glance into his rearview mirror. A full thirty seconds passed and I was pissed, exhausted from the flight and hungry as hell. “I said. Excuse me!”

The driver grunted, finally lifting his head. “Yes, miss? Is there a problem?”

So the asshole spoke English after all. He’d likely found amusement in the butchering I’d done of their beautiful language. “Fine. Where the hell are we?”

“Almost at your destination, miss. A few blocks. No worries.”

No worries. I’d spent years of my life doing nothing but fighting anxiety. I bit back a nasty reply, the chill remaining, as I studied the surrounding area. There was nothing but dim street lighting and an occasional blip from a passing building. And it was getting dark quickly. My hackles were raised, a series of butterflies churning away in my stomach. “I don’t think this is right at all.”

“Are you certain?”

I fumbled to yank out the address from the case, struggling to read it in the dim lighting then forced to say the words in Spanish.

I could swear I saw the asshole smile.

“Are we really close?” I made certain my tone was demanding.

“Yes, miss. Three blocks.”

Huffing, I sat back in my seat, now clenching the bag until my fingers were aching. I’d barely debated my decision in coming here, wanting nothing more than a fresh start if only for a few months. Maybe I should have grilled my aunt with questions before agreeing to come to Galicia, Spain of all places. I remained tense while he made another turn, jerking sharply until the front tire hit the curb as he braked hard. At least there were several additional lights, including the windows in the surrounding buildings. Maybe everything would appear different in the morning.

I needed sleep, a glass of wine, and the promised food left in my aunt’s refrigerator. And not necessarily in that order. I peered out the window at what appeared to be a dilapidated building, cringing deep inside. I hadn’t seen my aunt in almost ten years. Maybe her grandiose tales of living the good life was nothing but a lie.

“We’re here,” the driver said in a more authoritative manner, as if I was holding up another fare. After taking several deep breaths, I finally grabbed the door handle, carefully stepping onto the curb. An eerie feeling washed over me as I scanned the perimeter, fighting a new wave of fear. I’d been in difficult situations my entire life, uncomfortable moments leaving me uncertain of everything from my safety to my worth. Standing alone on a deserted street corner wasn’t doing my courage any good.

Only then did he offer any help, moving toward the trunk in order to retrieve my larger suitcase. As he spouted off the fare amount, I couldn’t take my eyes off the rundown area, the flickering streetlight over my head highlighting trash blowing in the light breeze.

I grabbed