With Every Breath (Slow Burn #4) - Maya Banks Page 0,43

to know who the fuck had put such terror and panic into this fierce woman, and why she was so certain this asshole would find her and kill everyone of importance to her. Did she have so little confidence in the people she worked with? The people she trusted with her life? Or was this every bit as bad as his gut was screaming it was.

Because with the arsenal of weapons she was packing, she had no intention of simply going into hiding and luring whatever psychopath away from the people she cared about. She was going hunting and not the recreational kind.

She sent him one last determined look, or perhaps it was a warning, because he suddenly found himself on her concrete drive as she hit reverse, screeching into the street. He barely had time to lift his head before he saw her taillights fade into the distance.

He should have been pissed. He should be wiping his hands of the entire situation he’d unwillingly been dragged into. And he damn sure never fucking took orders—however politely formed as requests—from anyone. Especially Dane Elliot.

But he wasn’t any of those things. A peculiar sensation fluttered through his chest and settled like a sinking stone in his gut. He closed and reopened his eyes in rapid succession but nothing he did could rid himself of the utter despair in Eliza’s face.

Not many things scared Wade. If pressed, it was doubtful he could even come up with one. But seeing Eliza tonight and the desperation fueling her actions and emotions?

Scared the fuck out of him.

EIGHT

ELIZA wrapped the thin jacket more firmly around her, hugging her arms in an unconscious gesture of protection as a shiver worked its way up her spine. She stared woodenly at the redbrick courthouse with quaint white columns that had been repainted in recent years.

She could feel the malevolent stares from passersby, those who’d lived here years ago when their quiet, peaceful town had been thrust into the national spotlight, but then Eliza had made certain she was seen upon her arrival. It hadn’t been easy. God, it had been so hard to walk the sidewalks, revisiting her old stomping grounds and even venturing into the diner she used to work in for breakfast, making certain to take her time so as many people as possible saw her and word spread like wildfire.

Barney still owned and operated the diner and he’d stood to the side of the woman at the counter where orders were placed, beefy arms crossed firmly over his chest and glaring openly at Eliza, his distaste written all over his face, his expression one of having tasted or smelled something foul.

Ever since leaving the diner and wandering aimlessly through the town’s center, the stares had increased as more people than normal were out and about. Whispers abounded. Pointed stares. Some didn’t even try to disguise their disgust and had hurled insults loud enough to be heard for three blocks.

Inwardly she’d winced, each barb finding its target with pinpoint accuracy, but she’d be damned if she ever let anyone see her weak and vulnerable. She’d donned a cool, unaffected, even bored expression as though she were just passing her time until . . .

She shuddered, revolted by the mere thought that she’d purposely set out to make these people think that she was here because Thomas would be released in mere days. That she couldn’t stay away. That she was still firmly under his spell. It was an act, but it hadn’t always been and that was what hurt the most.

She’d sworn to leave this place and never return. She’d walked out of the courthouse relieved, yet so full of shame, shoving her way through the crowd of reporters, refusing to say a single word. Not even “no comment.” What was there to say? She’d already aired her sins in front of God, judge and jury and she wasn’t rehashing it again. Ever.

Except by a cruel twist of fate—No. Fate couldn’t be blamed. The blame lay solely at Thomas’s feet. He’d engineered his release. But whatever the case, that long ago vow of putting Thomas, this town, everything behind her and never rehashing it, had been shattered and now she stood in the middle of town in front of the courthouse, long-suppressed images surfacing with vicious clarity.

That day she’d carried only a duffel bag containing everything she owned, what little money she possessed shoved into her pocket. She’d walked and she’d kept walking, never once looking back.