Leaving Annalise (Katie & Annalise Book 2) Read Free Page A

good.
    “Bart.”
    “Yes?”
    We stopped beside my ancient red Ford pickup, the replacement for the one that went off a cliff without me months ago. “I’ll have to pass on dinner. I feel sick.” It was as true as when I’d said it to Jackie earlier, but I left out the why. And the “not just tonight but forever” part.
    “Really?”
    He sounded suspicious, but I couldn’t see him in the dark.
    “It just came over me. I’m sorry.”
    “Let me drive you home.”
    No, I thought, panicked. “No, thank you. Sweet of you. Gotta go.” I feared I would throw up on him.
    He deposited me in my truck and I pulled the door shut without giving him a chance to kiss me goodbye. He stood there staring in at me, then knocked on the window.
    “Aren’t you going to leave?” he asked, his voice raised so I could hear him through the glass.
    I yelled back, “In a minute. I just want to call Ava. Safety first.” I retrieved my phone from my handbag and held it aloft. “See you later.”
    He hesitated. I waved goodbye. He walked over to his car and looked at me again. I put my phone to my face and pretended to talk to Ava, acting my little heart out. He opened the door to his black Pathfinder, turned to me one last time, then got in and slowly drove away.
    I was a total shit.

Chapter Four
    I put the phone down, drew in a ragged breath, and wondered if I was developing adult-onset asthma. Why was it so hard to breathe? I watched the digital clock on my dash count forward the minutes. Time dragged by. Breathing didn’t get easier. I sat there in the dark.
    Tap tap tap. A noise in my left ear, on the window .
    Of course. This is what I had expected. But when I peered out, I got a big surprise.
    A puffy black face was staring at me from four inches away. A not-so-attractive oversized male face, but one I knew well. It was Officer Darren Jacoby, a longtime admirer of Ava’s and a short-term non-admirer of me, with a Caribe version of Ichabod Crane looming behind him. Jacoby rotated his hand, pantomiming rolling my window down, old school. I turned my key halfway in the ignition and used the button to lower the window.
    “I looking for Bart,” Jacoby said.
    “He’s not here.”
    “Can you pass the message to him?”
    Ichabod pulled at the waist of his pants and smoothed his shirt over his stomach.
    “If I talk to him, I will.”
    “You not keeping company with him anymore?”
    “Not really.”
    Jacoby nodded, looking like I’d said something smart. Then he walked away. Ichabod turned and followed him. I rolled up my window.
    The whole thing was odd bordering on a little bit terrifying. It hadn’t helped with my breathing issue. I put my head in my hands.
    Tap tap tap.
    Not again. I looked up to give Jacoby an OK sign and saw the face I’d expected the first time.
    “Let me in?” Nick asked.
    His question spun my dial from wrecked to enraged. I started the truck and hit the window button again. It started its descent. I yelled out the slowly widening gap.
    “You think you can just hop in my car, when you treated me like I didn’t exist for months? Now you show up where I live, where I work, where I have a life, like I’m just going to put out the welcome mat for you. I already gave you my friendship and my dignity. What else do you want, Nick?”
    I thwonked my head down on my steering wheel once, twice, then turned on him again. “Who am I kidding? I gave you my heart, you asshole. So how about my wallet? Or would you just like me to cut off my arm instead?”
    I wasn’t so much screaming as drilling my words into the thick night air in a high-pitched rush, and then I couldn’t catch my breath. I tried—I gasped—I blew out oxygen to make room for more, and none was coming back in.
    Nick spoke but I couldn’t hear him over the buzzing noise in my ears. I turned the air conditioner on my face full blast and felt the warm air cooling as it hit my sweat. After a few seconds, I could draw in a deep, shuddering