One Wrong Step Read Free Page A

pocket to make sure she had her pepper spray handy before going to work on her numerous locks. As she flipped the first latch, she peered through the peephole, expecting to see a stranger in the hallway holding a carton of Chinese food.
    But the man who stood there looked all too familiar.
    Celie’s hands froze. She backed away from the door and darted a frantic glance around the apartment. Where had she put the phone? He knocked again, and then the doorknob rattled. God, was it possible he had a key ? She took out her Mace.
    “I hear you in there, Celie. Open up, okay? I just want to talk.”
    Yeah, right. Did he think she was crazy? She held her Mace in a death grip as she bit her lip and tried to decide what to do.
    “Celie, please?” The familiar voice made her chest tighten. Guilt, anger, regret—the emotions battled inside her.
    “I just need to talk to you,” he repeated.
    Guilt won out.
    Instead of locating her phone and calling the police, she moved toward the door. Methodically, she undid all the locks until only one deadbolt remained. She waited a beat, giving herself one last chance to heed the warnings blaring in her head. Then she turned the key and pulled open the door.
    Her ex-husband stood before her holding a drooping bouquet of flowers and a baseball cap. He wore a tattered UT windbreaker, sneakers, and wet jeans that clung to his gaunt frame. He desperately needed a haircut.
    And, from the look of it, a methadone fix.
    “Hello, Robert. Rumor has it you’re dead.”

CHAPTER
2
    R obert glanced over his shoulder, then back at her. A smirk spread across his face as noticed the pepper spray clutched in her hand. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
    Sighing, she stepped aside to let him in. “Can’t say it hasn’t crossed my mind.”
    He walked through the doorway and immediately created a puddle on her Saltillo tile floor.
    “Nice place you got here. I thought students were supposed to be broke.”
    “I’ve got a job. What is it you want?” she asked, trying to hide her jangled nerves. Not only was he here in her apartment when she hadn’t so much as lain eyes on him in nearly a year, but he’d been checking up on her, too. He’d found out she was enrolled at UT.
    Celie had selected this overpriced apartment complex specifically for its security. It had a gated perimeter, enclosed parking, and a round-the-clock guard in the lobby. Didn’t do much good if she buzzed the crazies up herself.
    Robert thrust the yellow carnations at her as he strode into the kitchen. The arrangement was tied together with cheap ribbon, and he hadn’t bothered to remove the price tag. “Special delivery.
    “You got anything to eat around here?” He paused in front of the sink. “What’s all this?”
    Unbelievable. He’d abandoned her, emptied their bank account, and fled the country. Now he shows up wanting a meal? Celie slammed the flowers onto the kitchen counter with a thwack. She wasn’t scared anymore, just royally pissed. She pocketed her pepper spray and crossed her arms over her chest.
    “I should call the police, Robert. You’re a wanted man.”
    He shot her a dismissive look as he opened a cabinet. “You won’t do that.”
    “How do you know? You think you know anything about me anymore? You think you have a right to even be here?”
    He tossed his grimy cap on the counter and began rummaging through her cupboard, knocking over soup cans and boxes of mac-n-cheese.
    “What are you looking for?”
    He ignored her question. “If you really wanted to rat me out, you would have done it after your PI came to visit me in Antigua.”
    Celie bit her lip. He was right. She had had a chance to turn him in, but she hadn’t done it.
    Instead, she’d divorced him.
    After enduring weeks of grueling interviews with the FBI, constant surveillance, and phone taps, Celie had decided her marriage was undeniably over. Her seemingly innocuous husband, the mild-mannered accountant who opened doors for