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Fear gnawed at her as she considered her options. She could indeed run, but Carver would find her. He and his brothers probably had eyes everywhere.
Her heart pounded as she cleaned up her station, the familiar routine doing little to calm her nerves. When the last customer left and the diner quieted down, Lucy felt the weight of her predicament pressing down on her.
She couldn’t stay trapped in fear forever, but she also couldn’t deny the danger she was in. As she wiped down the counter, her mind raced with possibilities, each one more daunting than the last.
“Lucy, you sure you’re okay?” Cindy asked again, her voice tinged with concern.
“Yeah, just a lot on my mind,” Lucy replied, trying to sound convincing.
Cindy nodded, still looking unconvinced. “If you need anything, you know you can talk to me, right?”
“Thanks, Cindy,” Lucy said. She appreciated the offer but knew she couldn’t involve her friend in this mess.
As her shift finally ended, Lucy took a deep breath, steeling herself for the walk back to her apartment.
She couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching her, following her every move. She walked quickly, her eyes darting around, her senses heightened. When she reached her building, she hesitated for a moment before heading inside.
Every shadow seemed menacing, every sound amplified in her heightened state of fear. She quickly ascended the stairs, her heart pounding louder with each step.
As she approached her apartment door, she glanced at Carver’s door again, half-expecting him to emerge. But the hallway remained empty and silent. She unlocked her door and slipped inside, locking it behind her with a shaky hand.
A wild thought entered Lucy’s mind. What if instead of fearing and avoiding Carver, she could learn to accept him? She thought of the sizzling chemistry between them, the pain in his eyes when he realized she was afraid of him.
Her heart began to race. Why fight when it was easy to cave in? It was crazy of her to consider this, but he did care for her in his own way. Lucy didn’t belong to his world, but could she have a place in it?
She paced her small apartment, the walls closing in around her as she pondered the possibilities. Could she really accept a man like Carver? Her mind flashed back to the way he held her, the tenderness in his touch. She shivered, not from fear but from the memory of his warmth.
Sitting on the edge of her bed, she let out a shaky breath. Could she really do this? Could she step into his world and make a place for herself?
The logical part of her screamed no, but the emotional part, the part that had felt that electric connection with him, urged her to take the leap.
Lucy knew she had to confront her feelings head-on. The uncertainty gnawed at her, but she couldn’t deny the pull she felt toward him. Maybe, just maybe, there was a way to bridge the gap between their worlds.
Chapter Seven
Carver stalked through the dimly lit alleyways, his eyes scanning every shadow and movement. The hunt for Emmet had consumed his day and only deepened his frustration.
Every lead he followed, every usual spot he checked, Emmet had always just slipped away. It was as if the man was a ghost, vanishing into thin air each time Carver got close. He clenched his fists, the tension in his body coiling tighter with each passing hour. The streets were eerily quiet, the silence broken only by the distant hum of traffic and the occasional shout from a nearby building.
He turned a corner and spotted a group of men huddled together, their conversation dying down as they noticed his approach. Emmet’s usual circle of friends. Carver approached them, and the men eyed him warily. Without a word, he grabbed one of them by the collar, lifting him effortlessly off the ground.
“Where’s Emmet?” Carver growled, his patience at its limits.
The man’s eyes widened with fear. “I don’t know, man! He ain’t been around here!”
Carver tightened his grip. “Don’t lie to me. I’ve been chasing him all day, and I’m done playing games,” he said.
One of the other men stepped forward, raising his hands in a placating gesture.
“Easy, Carver. We haven’t seen him. Last we heard, he was hiding out near the docks, but that was hours ago,” the guys said.
Carver released his grip, letting the man stumble back. The docks. It was as good a lead as any. He turned on his heel and headed in that direction, his mind racing.
Emmet was desperate, cornered, and that made him dangerous. Carver knew he couldn’t afford to let his guard down for even a second.
As he neared the docks, the air grew colder, the scent of saltwater mingling with the stench of decay. The area was deserted, the abandoned warehouses casting long shadows in the fading light.
Carver moved silently, his senses on high alert. He rounded a corner and froze. There, at the far end of the dock, was Emmet. The man was hunched over, rummaging through a duffel bag. Finally! He crept closer, the sound of his footsteps masked by the lapping of the waves against the pier.
