Page 80 of Thin Lives

Between his bouts of confusion and panic, the rage festered.

Thickening his blood.

Making his fists clench and his jaw tighten.

He wasn’t even sure who he was angrier at—himself, or the people who had lied to him; people he thought he could trust were the ones who had taken two and half years of his life from him.

A life he still didn’t have back completely.

Then his confusion would hit all over again, making that crazy feeling build back up in an instant. For months he’d had that same dream, and saw that unknown shadow of a face staring back at him from the other vehicle before they began pulling the trigger and ran him off the road.

He’d been near Ray time and time again since the accident.

He’d seen the man over and over.

His brain had more than enough moments to remember it had been Ray who had done that, so why now?

Was it even real, or was it just a by-product of Calisto’s paranoia making him see something that didn’t exist?

Worse was the fact that Calisto didn’t understand why Ray would come after him at all. Unless there had been some issue that he couldn’t remember, but it seemed unlikely. It felt wrong.

His gut hadn’t led him astray yet.

So why?

He despised the fact that he was still asking questions, that he had no answers.

Was it Ray making a move on Calisto’s position?

Or … had Affonso ordered the hit from wherever he had gone?

More frustrated than ever, Calisto strolled over to the wall-to-wall windows, and stared out at the empty club floor.

He didn’t know who to go to.

He didn’t know who to trust.

Blowing out a heavy breath, a calm swept Calisto’s senses. He pushed away from the windows, knowing what he had to do next. Protect himself—figure out why he had been lied to over and over again.

Get rid of the problems.

Whatever they were.

It took him no time at all to take the elevator down to the main floor, and cross the club to the back entrance where he had left his vehicle parked in the back alleyway. Yet again, the few employees didn’t even notice him, as they were too busy with bringing in the liquor order, and readying the club for the weekend rush that was just days away.

Calisto had just closed the driver’s side door of his SUV, turned the key in the ignition, and put it in drive when a dark form caught his eye in the rear-view mirror. A spike of dread drove straight into his spine, though he didn’t have much reason to feel that way.

It could be just a worker.

Or garbage pickup.

A homeless person.

But his gut never steered him wrong.

Calisto reached for the gun holstered at his back as he glanced into the rear-view mirror again.

Ray?