"What are you still doing here?" she asked, panic lacing her voice.
"I called Mr. Winsford," Reese replied.
Her stomach dropped. "Crap!"
"Apparently," Reese continued with infuriating calm, "my presence is not needed. And he said Mr. Kane will not be needing his phone for the rest of the week."
"Fine!" Sylvia snapped, realizing there was no way out of the trap she'd cornered herself into. "I'll just head back inside, alright?"
"I'll walk you."
Her mouth fell open. "Reese, for fuck's sake, I am just going inside the house!" She gestured wildly toward the front door, as if it could prove her innocence. "Do I look like I'm about to scale the fence?"
"I don't trust you," Reese said finally.
He followed her, silent as a shadow.
The house loomed ahead.
Then, as soon as she sensed he'd relaxed, she spun on her heel and bolted.
Her heart pounded as her flats slapped against the stone path. The gate was so close she could taste it — just a few more steps, and she'd be out.
