Chameleon (Leamington Bloom #2)

The One That Got Away…

“Wait… it’s her in there, isn’t it?” Her own voice sounded faint, as if she’d uttered the words from far away or long ago.

Pain flared behind Catherine’s eyes as the sickening sight of the two of them blurred into focus.

They lay in a tableau of tangled sheets and betrayal.

Her mind had conjured this image a hundred times — no, a thousand — and even after all this time, it still stung like the first.

The deception.

The humiliation.

The bloody obvious truth of it all.

Catherine had been a fool — careless with her heart, and now it was broken. As their monstrous voices morphed into mocking laughter, she clutched her aching chest and ran. One foot tumbled over the other until she was shivering in the frigid air, hot tears spilling down her face.

Catherine’s breath plumed out in ragged gasps as she lurched through the snow, every step a laboured effort.

She stumbled, collapsing onto the ground in a pathetic heap, her hand brushing something soft.

With freezing fingers, she dug until she uncovered a pair of scruffy bunny slippers, their once-pink fur matted and filthy.

A raw, guttural sob tore from her throat — the sound of a wounded animal.

She scrambled to her feet, retching as she shouldered through the crowd that had gathered around her.

They were little more than silhouettes: blank faces with gaping mouths.

Their voices blended into a hollow hum, as she turned to run again.

Where was she even going? Before her mind could latch onto an answer, brakes squealed, and someone shouted, “Look out!”

Catherine whipped her head around, but it was too late. Something blunt and hard slammed into her side, tipping her up, over and out.