Hard Limits(24)

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Paige grabbed her jacket and turned to Elle. "Are you sure you don't need me to lock the place up?"

It was almost twelve at night; Rosita's was all but closed. Just a table of guys celebrating a promotion at work.

"Sure. Go on." Elle waved her off. "We have everything under control here."

Of course everything was under control. As if any patron would dare to make a fuss with Jack there.

Tate was back at work, or trying to be, because between James and Elle, they always got her out of the restaurant before nine. Elle stayed until closing time, and with Elle came Jack, whom the regulars had taken in right away. Especially the older folks. Man, those seniors didn't fear anything. It came from having one foot in the grave, she'd been told. It probably was true, because they took such liberties with Jack's personal space and treated him with a familiarity that astonished Paige. Judging by his long-suffering expression, it astonished Jack too. Not that he complained. Well, he did. He grumbled and growled, but Elle laughed and kissed him, and the guy melted.

"I'll walk you to your car," Jack said as Paige headed for the front door.

"No need. I parked right on the corner," she hastened to explain.

Jack was intimidating at best, downright scary at worst. Without Elle around to soften his hard edges, Paige felt uncomfortable.

He ignored her words and walked her out.

"Nice weather," she mumbled, not really knowing what else to say.

He didn't reply except to ask "You good?" once they made it to her vehicle and she got in. Nodding, Paige smiled, thanked him, and took off, losing sight of him only after turning the corner.

If she was being honest with herself, she had to admit that the reason she felt uncomfortable around him had nothing to do with his hard edges.

She hadn't said a word to him about the weekend she spent with Nico. Who she slept with was her business, but the fact that Nico had been in Boston was something Jack would like to know. He'd been very clear when he showed them all those pics: "You see any of these guys, you come to me right away."

She'd done more than see Nico. She'd brought him home, stitched him up, and nursed him back to health, screwing his brains out in the process. And she didn't regret a second of it. Not a single one.

It had been damn long since Paige had taken anyone into her bed. More often than not, sex wasn't worth the effort. With Nico, though, she'd let go and come explosively.

If it had been damn long since Paige had taken anyone into her bed, it had been twice as long since she'd spent any time with a lover outside of bed. Doing that with Nico had been fun. Weird, really, because Nico was as rough and scary as Jack. More so, considering his shady dealings, yet she had been totally at ease with him.

Nico's presence was so frigging big, it left a frigging big hole too. She'd been kind of missing him. Caught herself thinking about him. Worrying. Which was surreal because she didn't know him.

It was midnight, and the suburban roads were all but empty, so Paige made it home in five minutes. As always, there was not a single parking spot near her place. After finding one three streets over, she got out of the car and began walking home, feeling it right away: that prick at the back of her neck, the one she'd been feeling for the last week. Someone was following her. Watching her.

She turned around. There were some rowdy guys, talking and drinking, a hundred yards behind her. Across the street, a couple hurried somewhere. None of them seemed to be paying her any attention.




 

 

This apparent normalcy didn't put her at ease. Being regularly cyberstalked by her ex didn't help matters either. She hadn't heard from Marc in a while, but last week he'd popped up in her social media again. Fake name, fake pics, new account, but Marc nevertheless. Messaging her.

Hi, poppy, remember me?

No one called her poppy except that psycho.

Long time no see. We should get together soon.

She hadn't reported it to the police. That was useless. Some shit about international servers and untraceable IP addresses-she hadn't understood all the ins and outs the many times she'd gone to the cops, just enough to recognize it was a lost cause-so she'd blocked Marc and tried to get on with her life. After all, he'd been cyberstalking her on and off for the past two years. Business as usual. For some reason, though, this didn't feel like business as usual. It felt like a big lump of toxic lead in her stomach, getting bigger by the second.

Paige hurried her steps, but the uneasy feeling didn't go away. Not even when she turned to her street and found it deserted. As a matter of fact, the sensation got worse. Much worse.

The buzz in her ears was now a full-blown roar, the feeling of danger so strong and so loud, she couldn't hear anything else.