My woman doesn’t miss a beat, her hands finding her hips as she stands tall. “I don’t know why you’re looking at me with disappointment, Sheriff. You are not my father, nor are you even someone I have exchanged more than fifty words with since I moved here.” Now it’s her turn to look disappointed. Her words are pure chastisement, “Everyone should be so lucky to find someone who worships them like he worships me.”
The Sheriff’s mouth drops open before he snaps it shut, narrows his eyes, and storms out of the diner. I don’t even watch him go. I don’t need to.
Instead, I lead my woman over to a booth which will allow me to see the front door. I lean down and whisper, “That was sexy as fuck, Angel.”
She smirks and whispers back, “I know. Felt really fucking good, too.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her how I’ve fallen head over heels in love with her. I swallow down the words. For now.
CHAPTER 23
GRAYCIE
The air is stale but charged in a way it shouldn’t be.
“No,” I gasp.
Because I know why the air is different. I know what his feeling is. Turner is here, but he shouldn’t be here. No, this is the last place he should be.
I’m looking around for him, but he’s not there. But I can feelhim. He’s somewhere.
The lights are dim and I can’t tell if I’m getting anywhere. It doesn’t feel like it. But I keep moving because Turner is here. Somewhere.
“You always were a bad omen,” my mom’s posh voice rings around me. Her words echo, and I want to cover my ears. But I can’t.
“It’s why we couldn’t stand to be around you,” my father’s voice, filled with affected boredom, hits me in the middle of my chest.
Because there was a time, even though it didn’t last long, when I thought things with Dad could have turned around. They never did.
I was wrong.
Tears sting my eyes and something tugs at me, the feeling deep in my belly. I want to follow the feeling, but I’m not sure where it is.
It has to be him.
“Turner,” I scream his name into the void, into the emptiness between seconds and sense.
Then a light clicks on. White bathes the space, but there’s nothing holy happening in the illuminated circle. And my heart breaks.
Turner is chained down and Sylvester is standing over him holding a whip. But it’s not the same one he used on me. No, this one has a wicked end that looks like a serrated hook.
I swallow hard and try to run toward Turner. Needing to rescue him.
But I don’t get any closer. Because of course I don’t get closer.
“Turner,” I sob.
He doesn’t turn his head in my direction. But Sylvester does.
“I’m so glad you joined us, Graycie,” he sneers my name like it’s a curse.
All I can hear, can feel, is the way Turner whispers that I’m his angel.
Angel.
Angel.
When Sylvester flicks his wrist, I fall to my knees. Tears are streaming down my face making it harder to see, but it’s like I can see everything with a clarity that just can’t be real.