Followed [Book 2- On Hold]

Chapter 4.2- Not the Daddy

I wish I could say I left him sitting there, alone.

I wish I'd never met him.

At the very least, I wish I had punched him.

Unfortunately, none of my wishes came true. The bastard followed me.

After his bucket 'o revelations, I finished my drink and sashayed out of the restaurant (if that's what the hole-in-the-wall could be called). As I clomped along the dirt road, I noticed a shadow bobbing a ways behind mine.

"You're fast when you're drunk!" Jose called.

Or when I'm trying to ditch a father that ditched me.

I sputtered with laughter.

"What's the joke?" Jose now walked alongside me.

I didn't dignify his question with a response, but I did move master, calling on my preternatural speed to lend a hand. My surroundings blurred until I felt the cobblestone street beneath my feet. The marketplace bustled with afternoon traffic.

Trabon was still at his fruit stand, holding out his hand to a customer. I smiled as I whisked by, and he winked like always.

I rushed to the hotel. Things were eerily quiet as I entered the room, or is that just the way with quiet?

I at least expected Rafe to be cursing at me, or moaning intermittently, but I heard nothing of the sort.

What I did hear was a soft keen whispering from the bedroom. Brow knit, I drew my sword and ducked into the room. The first thing I noticed was the empty bed, with the sexy handcuffs clinking against the bed post most unsexily. I swept into the bathroom, also empty.

"Rafe?"

Someone, or something, had left the balcony doors open, and the blue curtains unfurled back and forth, following the keening wind.

"Storm's coming."

Jose leaned against the bedroom doorframe, mango in hand.

He bit into it, and my eyes widened. While he chewed, he grinned and said,

"You're fast, but so am I."