Fake (Madison Kate #3) - Tate James Page 0,58

picture on the bag. So instead, I found myself pounding my gloves into the images of Hank and Archer. Always, always, I ended up venting my frustrations over Archer D'Ath.

He'd kissed me at the photo shoot... and I hadn't hated it.

What the fuck was wrong with me?

21

Despite telling Scott I'd see him Monday morning, I decided to skip my morning classes. I didn't want to risk being late for the meeting Zane had set up for me, and if Archer caught wind of what that meeting was? Yeah, I could see some dire emergency suddenly stopping me from getting to it.

Bree had been horrified when I'd come home from the gym and told her what had happened with my stalker calls. She'd gone out straight away and come back with a new sim card for each of us, pre-paid ones that she'd loaded with more than enough credit to last us months.

"This way, if we're not on a plan, there's none of that phone-tracking bullshit," she'd told me. Smart girl.

I still didn't want to risk contacting anyone else, though. Not until I knew the call would actually go to the person intended and my stalker wouldn't intercept it. So I'd just have to tell the guys about it when I inevitably ran into one of them in person. If my stalker had cloned their numbers as well as Bree’s, it wouldn’t matter what number I called from, it wouldn’t reach them.

"Do you want to take my car?" Bree asked on Monday morning when we were both getting ready for the day. She'd stayed with me the rest of the weekend and run interference when Scott turned up again wanting to hang out.

I wrinkled my nose. "No... not really. Thank you for offering, though."

She nodded with understanding as she curled her hair in my bathroom mirror. "All good, girl. Whenever you're ready." She wasn't being a bitch about my driving aversion, simply offering me easy opportunities to work through it. "Do you want me to come with you or anything? I don't mind cutting classes."

I smiled at her in the mirror as I swiped mascara over my lashes. "Nah, I'll be fine. Zane actually offered to drive me over there himself."

Her grin turned sly. "MK, you saucy minx. Adding the older brother to your harem too?"

I spluttered. "Oh, ew! No, Bree! Jesus, girl, he was fucking my mom. He was almost my step-dad. Gross. Also, he's just the lanky, sneaky version of Archer, and I've got more than enough D'Ath bullshit in my life right now."

She just rolled her eyes, teasing. "Okay fine, spoilsport. You've got a decent point there. Well, just stay safe, okay? With everything you’ve told me, it sounds like your life could be in even more danger now than before."

I grimaced. "Right, unless the next guy is as lousy a shot as Hank was."

"I'll keep all my fingers crossed for that scenario, girl," Bree replied in a dry tone. "Okay. I’d better get to school, then. You sure you're okay on your own?"

I nodded. "Trust me, I'm far from alone here. The Reapers aren't letting anyone get their paws on their human shield." I wasn't even bitter about it either. It was a mutually beneficial relationship from which we both got something we wanted. They remained safe from Archer's ire, and I got the resources I needed to rip up that bullshit marriage contract.

"Alright, I trust you to make smart decisions, MK. Call me afterward, and I'll pick you up, okay? We can do lunch without that snake, Scott." She smacked me on the ass playfully on her way out of my bathroom, then called out, "See ya!" on her way out of my apartment.

Fucking Scott was turning into yet another complication that I didn't have the time or energy to deal with. Why the hell had he lied about how he’d found me on the weekend? What was he covering up?

The only logical conclusion Bree and I had come to was that he'd followed us when we left my apartment in the morning. Definite creeper behavior.

The only thing we needed to work out now was if he was a harmless creeper who just didn't understand correct etiquette for friendships... or one that was much more sinister. Like a stalker.

I took my time to finish getting ready, dressing in the most corporate clothing I had in my meager wardrobe: black pencil skirt, navy satin blouse, and black, stiletto heels. My makeup was flawless, and my dusky-rose hair

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