CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

~ Camilla

His engine roared.

The sound started low, like a growl rolling up from the throat of some hungry, caged thing, and then it swelled. Louder. Meaner. His engine. Tearing like it owned the street. Like it was hunting something.

Like it was hunting me.

My spine snapped straight. The dish in my hand clattered into the sink. Soap and water splashed up my wrist, but I barely felt it. Every part of me froze, except for the place that mattered. That part was already reacting. Already wet.

No. Not again.

I didn’t move. Not because I didn’t want to. My brain was screaming go, go, go....