Playing With Fire (Tangled in Texas #2) - Alison Bliss Page 0,94
the prisoner’s lack of previous criminal record, and the model behavior he has displayed while incarcerated, the parole board has since moved his release day to March 1st.
Should you have any questions or concerns regarding this matter, please let me know or contact your local law enforcement agency.
Sincerely,
John P. Ellington
Warden, Gib Lewis Unit
Jesus. He was released early? I glanced at the desktop calendar, noting Stuart Nelson had been released from prison…two weeks ago? Oh God!
Instantly I recalled what Cowboy’s friend, Junior, had said about the man I’d seen standing on the edge of my property. Had to be someone else.
Then I remembered the stack of threatening notes I’d received. That whole time, I’d thought the Barlow boys sent them. But what if…?
Lightheaded, I swayed on my feet. Fear and adrenaline shot through my veins, and my heart flopped around inside my chest like a dying fish. I reached over and twisted the deadbolt to lock the door. “I’m safe,” I reminded myself out loud. “He couldn’t have found me that fast. It’s not possible.”
But who was I kidding? It only took him a week to find me before, which also happened to be the last time I ever saw my moth—
The letter fell from my hands, landing on the counter. It was him. He’d been watching me, not the Barlows, not Junior. It was just like last time.
Panicking, I sprinted to my bedroom and yanked my large suitcase out of the closet, tossing it open on the bed. Returning to the closet, I ripped my clothes from their hangers until I had an armful, then raced back to the bed to stuff them inside the luggage.
I ran to the living room, extracting things from drawers, grabbing my research files, and sifting through personal items. Only grabbing what I absolutely had to have, I carried them all to the suitcase and placed them inside.
Next I went for the drawers, pulling them out of the dresser completely and holding them upside down to dump the contents of each into my suitcase. My undergarments spilled out, only half of them actually landing in the suitcase. The rest had fallen every which way and some even ended up on the floor. But I didn’t have time to stop and pick them up. I closed the lid and zipped it up.
Reaching under the bed, I slid out a small black tote and threw the strap over my shoulder. The new identity inside would get me out of the country and the cash I’d stockpiled would keep me on the move until I found a good place to hide. I lifted the suitcase from the bed and headed to the kitchen, where my keys still sat on the counter. Just as I reached for them, a knock sounded at the door. My heart stopped and my stomach dropped. Setting my bags down quietly, I tiptoed to the door and peered out through the peephole.
Oh, no.
Cowboy stood on the other side of the door with a smile on his face. My body surged with guilt and remorse. I hadn’t planned to tell anyone—including him—I was leaving. Not even when my six months were up, and certainly not now when my time had run out early.
After a few moments, his smiled disappeared and he knocked again. Harder this time. I couldn’t pretend like I wasn’t home. Surely, he had noticed my car in the driveway. But I couldn’t bring myself to open the door, either, even when he banged on it a third time.
“Anna, I know you’re in there. I can hear you breathing.”
Figures.
I lowered my head, thunking it against the door as I let out a slow calming breath. All the running around I’d done had put my respirations in overdrive, and even though I was only softly panting, apparently it was audible. But I needed to get it under control if I were to face Cowboy without alarming him. I held my head up high, pushed a loose strand of my hair out of my eyes, and opened the door a few inches.
“Hi,” I greeted cheerily, straining to keep my voice from cracking. He started to move forward, as if he were going to come inside, but I held my position and barred his entry. “I’m sorry, Cowboy. I’m going to have to cancel on you tonight. Something sort of came up.”
I thought I’d done a great job keeping my tone controlled and light, but apparently it wasn’t enough. He raised one eyebrow. “What’s wrong?”