AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“What the hell, Kyra!” Matt’s mechanic shouted.
“Grace. Always Grace!” Kyra screamed. “Even Millie told me to take a break just to make it easy for you.” She returned the gun’s barrel to me, her hand shaking. Tension was high as people realized Kyra was unstable. “I should kill you”—her finger tightened on the trigger before she smiled chillingly— “but you’re not mine to kill.”
And with those cryptic words, she lowered her gun, and got back inside the car. Tires screeching, she peeled away from the curb and disappeared.
“Matt’s gonna kill me,” Roger groaned as he sunk to the chair I formerly occupied.
“No, he won’t. It’s no one’s fault.”
“She’s high,” Troy observed grimly.
“You think?” I muttered. “I need to let Millie know. She’s probably the only one who can help her.”
“This doesn’t make sense,” Roger said. “Kyra may be flirty, but she’s never been flighty. She’s got the hots for Matt, but this borders on obsession.”
“Matt swears he’s never led her on.”
Roger nodded. “I’d trust what Matt said.” He swiped the front of his face in frustration. “I don’t know what to tell him.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t tell him,” I suggested, feeling a bit nervous myself knowing Matt’s volatile temper. He’d been doing so well, but this might just set him off.
My phone buzzed.
I looked down at the screen and saw it was Matt.
Roger’s face looked pained. “Too late. He already knows.”
“Are you going to answer it?” Troy asked with a smirk.
I stared at the device in my hand, undecided. I wasn’t ready to talk to a pissed-off Matt. As if reading my mind, Roger said, “He’s going to be more worried if you don’t answer.”
“Crap, you’re right.” My phone quit ringing. This time Roger’s cell lit up.
Looking at me in resignation, Roger answered his phone.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
The Reaper
I watched Foster drive up in his pickup and park behind Kyra’s vehicle. The woman lived in a small subdivision just outside of Misty Grove. I could feel Foster’s rage from where I stood behind a large oak across the street.
“Kyra!” he shouted as he pounded on the entryway. “Open the door!” He kicked, hammered, and yelled—a man deranged. He continued for long minutes, going around the house and yelling from the yard. Foster had really lost it.
Kyra’s neighbors were standing off in a distance, not wanting to be caught in the man’s blind fury. Seriously, this man was a former assassin. He should never let his obsession with a woman make him act so recklessly. Even if this woman was Grace. My angel, my Grace. Foster was making this too easy for me.
I watched as a sheriff’s patrol car pulled up in front of the house. Obviously, the neighbors called 911.
The deputy approached Foster cautiously, hand on his gun, and called out to the crazy man on the front lawn.
And then, to my glee, Foster sealed his fate. “You keep away from Grace, Kyra, or I’m going to fucking kill you!”
I watched Foster talk to the deputy, agreeing to walk away and leave. He got into his pickup and screeched out of the neighborhood.
The man was in love.
He was volatile.
And he was reckless.
