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Jace.

What the fuck was she doing?

She leaned over, trying to breathe. She’d run so fast that she had a stitch in her side. It didn’t help that it had been a while since she’d gone for a run. Ed didn’t like the idea of her running on her own and she didn’t like the treadmill.

Unfortunately, Ed wasn’t much of a runner.

Shoot. Ed. What was she doing? She started walking even though she just wanted to sit. But she knew if she stopped moving that she might not get back up again. Her muscles needed to cool down.

She was sweating, so hot that her cheeks were roasting and yet she shivered as a cold breeze ran over her.

Shoot. Why did she take off like that? What was she thinking? It was starting to grow dark. How long had she even been running for? An hour? Two?

Ed had to be out of court. He’d probably been calling her and she hadn’t even thought to bring her phone with her.

Shoot. Sugar. Fudgeballs.

She was in sooo much trouble when he got home. Her butt cheeks clenched reflexively. Now, if she could just work out where home was, she’d be a lot happier. She didn’t even know which direction she’d run in or what road this was. She was in the middle of nowhere, darkness was approaching and she was cold and thirsty. Plus, she hadn’t eaten since her morning snack.

Oh, she wasn’t going to sit for a week.

Well, she guessed the first thing she should do is turn around. As she turned and started walking back, she saw a big truck headed her way. The city girl in her told her to ignore it. But this was the country. And she could at least get some directions.

Before she could decide about whether to flag them down, the truck came to a stop. The engine was still running but nobody got out.

Well, that wasn’t creepy or anything. A funny feeling developed in her stomach.

She moved forward just as the door opened. A man who looked vaguely familiar got out. Had she met him before? Maybe she’d seen him in Wishingbone. He looked to be young, around eighteen.

“Hello,” he called out. “You all right?”

“Ah, yeah. I ran a bit further than I intended. Do you know where the sheriff lives?”

“Yeah, back that way a few miles.”

Crap. That was going to take her a while to walk.

“Could take you there if you like,” he told her.

“Oh, but it’s out of your way.”

“It’s no bother. Really. Wouldn’t like to suffer the sheriff’s reaction if I left his woman out on her own in the cold when it was getting dark.” He gave her a smile.

She bristled a bit at the ‘his woman’ part. She had a name after all.

You haven’t offered your name, though, have you? So how is he to know?

“Are you sure?” For some reason, she felt reluctant about getting into his truck.

“No problem, ma’am. Hop in.” He climbed in, leaving the decision up to her. Which made her feel a lot better about her decision to catch a ride. When she got in and shut the door, the locks engaged, making her jump.

“Automatic locks.”

“Of course.” Silly her. Why was she so jumpy? “Is this truck yours?”

“Sure didn’t steal it,” he said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“I didn’t mean to imply anything. It’s a really nice truck.”

“My mother recently died. She left me some money.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said sympathetically.

He nodded. “Buckle your belt.”

She did up her belt and he put the truck in gear, moving forward. They drove along for a few minutes but when he didn’t turn around, she looked over at him. He was a handsome guy. Tanned skin, black hair, a bit of stubble.

“Um, isn’t Ed’s place back that way?”

“Yeah, I just have a quick errand to do down this way then I’ll backtrack. You don’t mind, do you?”

He could have told her before she’d gotten in the truck. But since he was doing her a favor, she could hardly complain about it.

“Of course not. Do you have a phone? Would you mind if I called Ed?”

“Sorry.” He grimaced. “It’s just died.”

Okay, she was starting to feel really antsy now. “Have you lived around here long?”

“No, I don’t live here.”

“You’re visiting someone?” she asked as they turned down an old road. This felt wrong. How did he know where Ed lived if he didn’t live here? They pulled up outside a small cabin. It looked slightly rundown as though no one had lived here in a while.

“You could say that.” He stopped the truck and got out. Then he walked around the front. She stared at him in surprise as he opened her door.

“Oh, I’ll just wait here.”

He shook his head. “Afraid not, my Rose.”

“What did you call me?”

“My Rose.” He smiled smugly. “Or should it be my Daisy? That’s what he called you, didn’t he?”

“Who are you?” she whispered. Her heart skipped a beat then raced.

Oh God. Oh God.

“How rude of me, my name is Trent Strange.”

Trent Strange. The man who had stalked her. Terrorized her. Stabbed her. He’d been Gerald Strange.

That couldn’t be a coincidence.

“You . . . you . . . who are you?”

“I told you, I’m Trenton Strange. My father was Gerald Strange. And it’s your fault he’s dead.”

She shook her head then yelped as he undid her belt and grabbed her arm, dragging her from the truck. She landed heavily on her knees and sharp pain slashed through her legs, making her hiss. Damn, that was going to bruise. But she didn’t have time to worry about her knees right now.

“I . . . but Gerald Strange’s son was called Malcolm. He was the same age as me.”

“Oh, didn’t you know? My mother was pregnant at the time that you ruined my father’s life with your false claims.”

He dragged her up onto her feet. “I never knew my father, because of you. But I read all about you. The way you taunted

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