The cab pulled up to the long, private road outside Dominic's house. I practically stumbled out, before the driver could stop the meter. My chest still squeezed tight around the threat echoing in my skull:
Keep digging… and yours ends next.
Dominic's neighborhood always felt too quiet.
The kind of quiet that didn't feel peaceful.
It felt watched.
I scanned the pavement, the sidewalk, the hedges, every parked car. My eyes darted to windows, shadows, the rooftops. My phone stayed clenched in my fist.
I spun in a slow circle. Someone had followed me. Someone had taken a photo. Someone had my number. My location.
I felt like I couldn't breathe.
I backed away from the cab, as the driver pulled away.
Was someone watching me again right now? Filming me?
I glanced up at the high walls of Dominic's house.
Then….
The gate creaked open.
I flinched so hard I nearly tripped over the curb.
But it wasn't a stalker.
It was Dominic.
