Hidden Shadows (The Shadow Series Book 1)

FIVE

Desiree was tired of waiting. Tired of craving revenge, justice, and the downfall of Doctor Jenna Gregor. She was worlds away from that Florida hotel room—in miles and years—but her mind, her heart, her intentions, were unchanged. And she was tired of waiting.

She'd been given her first thrill, years ago, when she hunted down and found the woman who ruined her life. In the same blow, she'd been hit with her first real obstacle, discovering that the doc was living it up with a respected position in a nice clinic and going home every night to a hunk of a man and a cute kid—screw her.

Sure, Desiree had a hand in the Gregor divorce back then—basically orchestrated it—but that excitement was fading. Plus, the superwoman was beginning to look like she was finally bouncing back.

Though Desiree could admit the victory of the divorce had lasted longer than she'd expected—it went so much better than planned!—she needed a triumph again. In a bad way. The necessity for another high of sabotage made her feel like an addict thirsting for the next fix.

She wasn't an addict though. No, not to any substance. She was too clever for drugs, too cunning for alcohol. She couldn't risk losing herself or her senses. She had to be on alert always, watching, waiting, planning.

She had an end goal after all. She couldn't risk missing the right moment for execution.

The note had been fun. A little taunting, a little scare. But definitely not enough. Not enough of a bang. Jenna Gregor needed to realize she was threatened. Needed to know there was danger.

Frightened prey were more fun to hunt. The kill was sweeter that way, more exhilarating.

A scream blared from the T.V., had Desiree stepping into the small living room and glancing at the screen.

Horror movie, great. She hated those things.

All that blood always gave her flashbacks, bad memories. Made her think of Tommy the last day she'd seen him. Poor chap. So much blood.

Ben and his father had talked about how he was cutting it close, weather wise, with this house and two others he had lined up for the following week, but with business booming like it'd been, anytime sooner just wasn't an option.

Standing and surveying the rows of houses dotting the generous lots, he estimated he and his team had worked on at least fifteen homes in the new subdivision.

The projection for future work didn't look like it'd be slowing, either, as the little town of Spring Hill had seen exponential growth after a group of contractors teamed up and started building. Ben could've kicked himself for not being one of them. No telling how much profit they'd made off their initial investment. He was surprised he hadn't thought of it first. Being a small town guy, you'd think he would've seen how many people would be attracted to a place like this.

To Ben, there was no better life than walking out on your front porch and seeing land—instead of buildings, lights, and worst of all, traffic—on the horizon.