Shielded In The Shadows

“Maybe that’s because she hasn’t seen him to know that he’s changed.” Or had she?

“Is it too late for me to stop by?” Her question was hesitant. And he didn’t think because of the hour. It wasn’t that late.

“I’m on my way to meet a client,” he told her, not adding who or why. He could have done. She knew the circumstances behind his being shot the previous week. Had been careful of his ribs every time they’d been together.

“Okay, I still haven’t been home from work.” Did she sound relieved? He couldn’t be sure. Wasn’t particularly pleased if she had been.

Things were getting awkward. That wasn’t supposed to happen.

“Jayden?”

“Yeah?”

“I think we should put a time frame on our sexual responsibility. You know, getting it out of our systems and moving on.”

Sexual responsibility. He liked how it sounded.

“Agreed. You have one in mind?”

“Yes. I’m thinking maybe another week.”

His crotch gave a minor leap. It wasn’t ending. And yet, it would.

He was good with that...right?

* * *

Emma stopped at Jayden’s on her way home from a late meeting on Tuesday night. She’d beat a motion to suppress in court that morning, pertaining to her upcoming trial, and was feeling great. They didn’t talk about work. They really spoke very little.

And when she started to doze off, she got up and left. It was all very satisfying—beyond satisfying physically—and kind and decent. And, as she drove away, it all left her feeling a little flat, too.

She hadn’t seen the cat. Had no idea what Jayden had had for dinner or how his day had gone. Hadn’t told him about the judge allowing her to use the evidence the defense had wanted thrown out.

Maybe it was the beginning of the end...this sense of letdown. Setting the end date could have triggered a feeling of sadness.

When he’d kissed her goodbye, it had taken all she’d had not to climb right back into bed with him. She was hot now, just thinking about it. Tingling with need.

Unbelievable, considering he’d met that need three times in the past two hours. Three times.

Turning out of his neighborhood and toward her own, she enjoyed the lack of traffic on the July weeknight. Most California towns would be thriving with tourists, filling the sidewalks, driving the streets, but Santa Raquel had mostly private beaches. And very little overnight lodging. They got a few day visitors during the summer and sometimes—

A truck pulled up alongside her as she turned onto the two-lane coastal road that was the shortest route to her little gated section of town. Had she been so preoccupied in thought she’d turned in front of it? She hadn’t even seen his lights. Slowing immediately, Emma gave room for him to pull in front of her. Clearly he had the right of way. He hadn’t come from behind her, so he had to have already been on the road.

Another reason they should put streetlights on the coastal road. At least the section that ran through town. It came up every couple of years at council meetings and residents, overall, wanted to preserve the quiet sanctity of the ocean. But up on the cliff like it was, also made it dangerous...

The truck didn’t move from her side. Didn’t pull ahead.

Or behind.

What the...? Heart slamming in her chest, she realized what was happening. As if in slow motion. The truck wasn’t budging from beside her as she drove on the dark road. She slowed. The truck slowed. She sped up, the truck sped up. Inching closer and closer to her. The driver was going to send her over the cliff.

Or try to.

She pictured the road, the curves, the areas that weren’t as steep. Those with houses below.

He wasn’t just going to ram her.

She knew it was a he now, though she couldn’t make out anything other than a baseball cap. And broad shoulders.