Sweet Temptation

“How the hell would anyone but the waitress have known which drink was hers? Unless it was random? Which makes no sense to me,” Connor said.

“That’s a good question,” Micah murmured.

“I just ordered club soda,” Angelina said helplessly. “I never drink alcohol.”

The men all frowned, and Damon, who’d remained fairly quiet through it all, said, “Maybe it was a practical joke aimed at a potential designated driver?”

“But why?” Faith burst out. “None of this makes any sense.”

“There are predators of all kinds out there, baby,” Gray said. “That’s why we want you girls to be more careful.”

Angelina’s fingers trembled in Micah’s grasp. He tightened his grip on her hand and squeezed reassuringly.

“You’re safe now, Angel girl. Do you understand me? I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

She tilted her chin so she could look at him. Her gaze skirted across his face as if she was judging his sincerity. He couldn’t blame her for doubting him. But he wouldn’t give her the chance to doubt him again.

A knock sounded at the door, and a police officer stuck his head in the door. “Ms. Moyano? My name is Officer Daniels. Do you feel up to answering a few questions?”

CHAPTER 17

When Angelina awoke, sunlight streamed through the slats of the blinds on her window. Still sluggish, she turned to look at the clock. Ten A.M.

She closed her eyes again and turned her head to burrow back into the pillow. At least she was home in her own bed, even if it had only been hers for a short time. Still, it beat the ER.

She’d been adamant about staying in her own place after she’d been released from the hospital. To her surprise, Micah had insisted on spending the night on her couch. When she’d told him there was no need, he’d scowled and then continued on as if he hadn’t heard her.

He’d tucked her in with an admonishment to holler if she needed anything, and then he’d disappeared from her bedroom. And she’d slept, dreaming of being in his bed, in his arms.

The police had questioned her and had promised to do what they could, but she’d seen the looks that passed between Officer Daniels and the others. It would be nearly impossible to find out what had happened unless the waitress could provide information.

She swallowed, wincing at the discomfort. Her mouth was dry like she’d eaten cotton, and thirst drove her to get out of bed.

She traveled through the living room, curious as to whether Micah was still there. A needle of disappointment pricked her when she didn’t see him. When she got to the kitchen, she filled a glass with tap water and drained it in several gulps. As she set it back down on the counter, she noticed the piece of paper lying several inches away.Angel,Gone back to my apartment, but I’ll be back in a little while to check on you. I’ll bring you something to eat.Micah

Warmth crept up her body, and she smiled at the knowledge that he’d be returning.

She leaned against the counter and folded her arms over her chest when a chill raised goose bumps on her skin. Friday night hovered around her in bits and pieces. She remembered nothing of the time between her leaving the bathroom and waking into the emergency room.

Though she’d been assured that nothing had happened to her, a thread of panic still lingered on the periphery of her mind.

She swallowed back the knot of fear. It was a fluke. An act of random maliciousness. She’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time, and some sick fuck had thought she’d be an easy conquest.

She felt a grim satisfaction at having thwarted whoever the hell it was.

Lead still traveled sluggishly in her veins, and it took effort to stay upright. A day in bed sounded like heaven. She wanted to lie down and wait for Micah to come back.

She walked out of the kitchen and glanced down the foyer to the front door. She saw another piece of paper on the floor and stopped in her tracks.

Someone had slipped a note under her door.

Probably Micah.

A little hesitantly, she went over to pick it up. Maybe something had come up and he wasn’t coming back after all. She opened the note to scan the contents and froze.

Nausea welled in her stomach and exploded into her throat. She swayed on suddenly weak legs.

Oh God.

Next time you won’t escape me.

The note drifted to the floor, and she clutched her stomach in an effort to prevent the overwhelming urge to vomit.

He was here. In Houston. How had he found her? Why had he found her?

An anguished moan escaped her stiff lips. She wanted to scream. Panic assaulted her and she rushed to the door, checking the locks. She fastened the chain and leaned heavily against the door as if she could keep the world out.

Oh God. What was she going to do?

It was the same handwriting. She knew it well. The creep had been sending her letters for a year.