A cacophony of angry honking and yelling caught Honey’s attention. Not another idiot who thinks traffic on Cannery Row would behave like normal city street traffic. She looked to see who would be so rude in this throng of tourism and froze. Fear and panic stopped her breathing as she recognized the angry man at the center of the commotion.
She couldn’t think, she couldn’t breathe. “Oh God, not him,” she said, barely a whisper. Her hand went to her neck, clasping her protective charm, her personal amulet.
Through the front windshield of a low silver sports car she saw the once loved angles of Bryce Maplecourt’s face, twisted into a familiar visage of rage. Only this time, it wasn’t directed at her. This time, those piercing blue eyes were blazing at another hapless victim of undeserved vitriol.
Air flooded back into her lungs as she gasped and spun around, angling herself to face away from him.
“He didn’t see me, he didn’t see me, he didn’t see me.” She repeated over and over again under her breath as she rubbed the small charm between her fingers.
Honey focused on her breathing, trying to calm the surge of adrenalin. He didn’t see me, and he would never recognize me dressed this way. Honey wore a comfortable old hoodie, one that had been broken in with years of abuse and washing, one that had mystery stains and faded color. The Honey Bryce had known would never wear a hoodie, let alone one she purchased for a buck at a local thrift shop. No— She calmed herself. “—Bryce didn’t see me, and Bryce wouldn’t recognize me if he did.”
Careful to keep herself turned away from the street, Honey carefully made her way through the crowd. When she was half a block from work, she ran. The need to distance herself from Bryce increasing with each step.
She entered the crowded coffee shop and immediately headed to the back, through the office, and into the employee washroom/janitor closet. She slammed the door shut then crouched down in the shower.
She had gotten away. He hadn’t seen her. No matter how much she repeated this mantra, she could not shake the panicked thought that Bryce had followed her, that he somehow knew she was here.
Her breathing came in gasps. She gulped in air as she stared at the door.
Her eyes widened and her stomach lurched as she watched the door handle turn.
Protective, book one in the Rhea Silvia Legacy