Chapter Five
Addison
The morning of my departure, I’m a complete mess. Getting a call from my best friend saying that the very man I think is watching me has to give me a ride is enough to have me picking at my lip.
Loxley wouldn't give me the details about what’s going on, but the worry in her voice told me all I needed to know. It had that sense of dread I developed over the years from my mother circling my gut. I immediately started profiling to gauge the situation myself.
She sounded panicked, so this is something big. Loxley doesn't freak out easily.
She’s sending someone to pick me up, which means I can't travel alone.
Oh, god.
Is someone following me?
I never told her about the run-ins with her stalker’s brother. It can't be him, so that means it's someone else…
My eyes shift to my phone, and I think about calling Mom, but she would drop everything and probably try to haul me across the country in a rush. I’m an adult now, and I don't need her fighting my battles, but it would be nice to have her opinion on the matter.
No!
No.
I’m a big girl, and she’s only going to turn this into something much grander than it is. I have the tracking app on my phone. If anything happens, she will find me.
I worry my bottom lip between my teeth as I grab my bags. Row (still don’t know his name) is supposed to be here at eight. Last I spoke to Loxley, he stopped off to sleep for a few hours. He’s been on the road since yesterday, and I don't know what to expect.
Our run-ins haven't been horrible, but they’re making that lingering suspicion return with a vengeance. My mind replays the second “chance” encounter, and my nerves only grow worse.
Bicentennial Park is beautiful, with the Scioto River lazily drifting through. The air is crisp, and I’ve just finished my morning workout as I record the time of my three-mile run.
Twenty-five minutes.
Not bad, but not my best time.
I take a deep breath and I do my cool-down stretches.
My lungs burn, but it feels amazing as my body slowly adjusts to getting active again.
With my job back in New York, I barely had the time to focus on my health.
I used to run track in college, and I missed it.
Coming to Columbus feels like a new beginning, and I finally get to take my time to settle into a new life.
I stretch out the dull ache forming in my calves and thighs as I stand to the side of the path. The sun has just risen, and I watch it over the skyline with a smile.
Loxley is getting a shipment at the bakery this morning, so I make quick work of my routine before walking along the path towards my car. I'm enjoying my morning when I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
I frown before looking over my shoulder. I scan the area, but don't notice anyone besides the other man out on his morning run. He’s headed in the opposite direction, paying me no mind.
Weird.
I try to shake the feeling, but my internal alarm goes haywire. I shoot another look over my shoulder, quickening my pace before I smack right into a solid wall. I nearly stumble, but firm hands grab my biceps to steady me.
“I’m so sorry…” My voice dies as I look up into familiar blue eyes. My brow pinches, and my lips stay parted on the next part of my apology, but no sound comes out.
“What did I say about watching where you’re going?” His voice is rough, as if he just woke up. It sends a jolt of awareness zipping down my spine as I step back. His hands fall away from me as my eyes scrutinize him.
He’s wearing another t-shirt and jeans. Thick brown hiking boots cover his feet, and I take note of the odd dark stain across the top of one.
“What are you doing here?” My question comes out curt and guarded. I can't place why, but I don't trust this man. His whole aura is off, and I feel like the proximity to him is screwing with my head.
“This is a public place,” he answers as if it’s obvious. “Why are you running before the sun rises?”
I blink, trying to shake off the weird hold this stranger seems to have over me. I need to focus. “I’m an adult. I can do as I please.”
“Right,” he shakes his head, rubbing a hand across his mouth. “But being out alone in the dark can attract unwanted attention.”
“I’m seeing that,” I answer slowly, taking another hesitant step back.
“Go back to your car, Addison.”
My eyes narrow at his command. Who does this guy think he is? “Or what? Maybe I’m not done.”
“You’re done.” He answers resolutely. “Go back to your car, and keep your eyes forward. Watch your surroundings.”
This jackass!
I cross my arms, cocking a hip. “Actually, I think I have another two miles in me. Have a good day.” I go to step around him, but he grabs my bicep again, stopping me in my tracks. “Hey! Let go—”
He leans in so close I can smell the mint on his breath. Something masculine and strong washes over me, and my eyes nearly flutter at the scent. He smells good, and I hate that I noticed that. “Go. Home. Addison.” He grits.
I bare my teeth in return, not backing down. “Fuck. Off.”
His jaw ticks. “If I have to fucking carry you back to the parking meter, I will.”
I snatch my arm back, giving him one last glare. “Whatever.” I stomp in the direction of my car, muttering under my breath. “Asshole.”
That also cemented in my mind that this man was following me. Two run-ins in such a short span of time in a massive city like Columbus? I had my own stalker, and didn't know what to do about it. Instead, I focused on Loxley and what was going on in her life.
At least she knew who was following her around. I don't know anyone from Ohio besides her. This is what nightmares are made of, and now he's coming to pick me up.
“Wonderful,” I mumble sarcastically as I toss my purse and duffel bag strap over my shoulder. I grab my travel cup and test its weight. “At least I can knock him out with this thing if he gets weird.” I give it a few swings and purse my lips. “Not bad.”
I peer out the window and notice the massive black truck parked in front of my complex’s stairs. It’s resting idle at a meter, and my chauffeur is leaning against the passenger side door. He checks his watch before his eyes trail to my window.
I step back, letting the curtain fall as uncertainty claws at my insides.
There’s no way he just saw me. He doesn't know where I live, but I swear we made eye contact…
“Oh, my god, I’m going insane.” I groan before opening the front door and taking the steps down to the sidewalk.
It’s still early, so the walkway isn't as packed as it usually is. I maneuver around people until I reach my chauffeur, who rudely snatches my bags off my shoulders and tosses them into the back seat. He slams the truck’s door before peering over at me. “What else do you have?”
He looks like he’d rather be anywhere else, and I can gladly say the feeling is mutual.
Already starting off strong, I see.
“What happened to hello? How are you?” I mumble before opening the passenger door and setting my travel cup in the sleek, dark cup holders. This damn truck had to cost a fortune. It’s got a screen that stretches across the dash, seat warmers, and all of the bells and whistles.
Someone’s loaded.
“I’m sorry,” he apologizes quietly. “Hello, how are you?”
Fine and dandy, considering I think you're a psychopath wearing a devilishly handsome man’s skin. Really, it should be illegal to look that good, but be such a dick head all the time.
“I’m fine,” I pull my jacket tighter over my chest before my head tilts. “If we’re going to do this for eight hours, can I at least know your name?”
He blinks. “You don't know my name?”
Was I supposed to?
Oh, please forgive me, stranger, for not checking the stalker handbook before this encounter.
“No,” I deadpan.
“Of course,” he mutters. “It’s Rowan.”
Oh! That's what it’s short for!
I liked romaine lettuce better.
“Well, Rowan,” I rock back on my heels before motioning to my window. “I still have a few totes to grab, and then I have to turn my key into the front—”
“Get in the truck and I’ll handle it.” He commands in that blunt way that eats at my patience so easily.
“I’m perfectly capable of handling things myself.” I snap.
He sighs, and that cut jaw works as if I'm the biggest annoyance known to man. “Never said you couldn't. It’s cold. You can warm up in the truck.”
It did feel pretty warm in there…
Okay, maybe I need to wave the white flag a little. He hasn't been extremely weird, and I’m freezing my ass off.
“Okay,” I answer quietly. “Unit twelve. Everything is in the living room. You’ll pass the front office on the way there.” I give him a small cordial smile to sweeten the deal.
He stops, staring at me for far longer than what's considered normal before turning on his heel and stalking toward the building. “Get in the truck, Addison.”
My eyes narrow on his retreating figure. “Get in the truck, Addison.” I mock before sliding into the front seat. As soon as I close the door, it locks. My eyes shift to the stairwell, and Rowan holds the key fob up before dipping into the building, and my teeth grind.
“Does he think I’m a child?” I growl as I turn the seat warmer up. Being out of the cold feels nice, and I hate that it’s helping my horrible mood ebb by the ticking seconds.
When the stairwell door opens again, Rowan walks out like some kind of fucking savior as he carries the two totes I assembled like they weigh nothing.
Hulking arms wrap around the grey boxes, flexing as he moves.
He has a thermal shirt on to block out the cold, but I have an active imagination. I know what he's packing under there.
He sets the totes down in the truck bed before strapping them down with cables.
The whole time, I shamelessly rake my eyes over his body in the rear view.
Thick thighs covered by dark jeans, a wide back that flexes anytime he moves, and massive hands that look like they could strangle a fucking tree.
He really is the perfect specimen. Too bad he’s an asshole.
And potentially a psychopath.
He rounds to the driver’s side and climbs in quickly to block out the chill. “That’s all you had?”
“Yeah, I don't have much.” I shrug. When I look over at him, he’s already staring at me. “What?”
“That can't be all you own, Addison.”
I’m never defensive. I’ve always been a go with the flow kind of girl, but for some reason, this man brings something out of me. “It is. Simple as that. Now, can we get on the road? Your meter is almost up.”
He sits back in his seat, his jaw working as he shifts into drive and pulls away from my complex. For the first ten miles of our drive, the cab is filled with tense silence. I sit with my body turned toward the window, and my arms crossed over my chest as I observe the passing skyscrapers.
I know I’m being immature, but there’s just something so off about my travel companion. My mother always taught me to trust my intuition, and I’m never wrong.
He’s staring at me. Again.
My body is hyperaware of his lingering gaze. Those eyes cut into my flesh, as if he can see everything that lurks beneath the surface. I shiver at the thought, rubbing a hand up and down my arm to warm myself.
“Cold?” Rowan’s deep voice cuts through the suffocating atmosphere as he reaches down to adjust the controls.
I watch his thick finger crank the dial, mesmerized by the sliver of black ink near his wrist. He looks strong—powerful.
Like he could pick a woman up and—
“Are you hungry?” He asks, interrupting my wicked thoughts.
My cheeks flush as I clear my throat. “No, but I could go for a coffee.”
He makes a rugged sound in the back of his throat that I know would vibrate beneath my hand if I were to place it there. “Overpriced New York coffee.” He curls his lip. “I have a better idea.”
“Oh, yeah?” I challenge, turning to face him. Wrong move. Now I’m caught in the stare of something sinister, and all I can think of is how good he would look glistening with sweat as he pins me down. “Better be the best damn coffee I’ve ever had.”
His lips twitch, and I realize how utterly fucked I would be if this man smiled at me. “Or what?”
“Or I get to pick the music we listen to for the rest of the trip.” A slow, devious smile spreads across my face.
His eyes shift to me, a challenge brewing in those roaring oceans. “It’s a deal.”
He extends a hand over the console, and I don't think twice as I wrap mine around his.
His palm is warm and rough with calluses, but it feels amazing as his fingers grip mine.
Something shoots up my arm at the contact, and goosebumps pebble my skin.
The alarm in my head is going crazy, but the woman at my core who loves dark and twisted men is practically melting.
Get a fucking grip!
“You’re freezing,” he frowns. “If you're cold, then say something.”
“I’m always cold,” I roll my eyes.
He encases the tips of my fingers in his hand, rubbing back and forth to create friction. As he warms me, my heart slams in my chest, and I have to hold back the moan that threatens to leave me.
What the fuck am I doing?
Better question.
What the fuck is he doing?
“That’s good,” I pull my appendage back, tucking it underneath my outer thigh as if it will banish the current tingling across my palm.
Rowan sits back, clearing his throat as he trains his eyes on the road. “I didn't mean to impose.” His mask of indifference shoots back up, and I know I've lost him.
Disappointment pierces my chest, and I absently rub at the dull ache.
Why am I upset?
This guy could be enemy number one, but my brain is acting too smooth to compute that. I need to be cautious around him. This could all be some kind of tactic to get me to lower my guard. If I'm vulnerable, there's no telling what this man will do.
“We’ll be there in thirty minutes.” He says.
I nod, not trusting my voice or myself.
Not until I can get a good enough reading on this guy.