Page 67 of Tempest’s Torment

She looks genuinely horrified. "Tempest."

"What?"

"That's tragic."

I huff out a laugh. "I've survived."

"Barely."

I shake my head. "I don't like being wrong."

"I've noticed."

I look at her over the rim of my mug. "Have you?"

She nods. "You notice everything."

"I do."

She smiles softly. "So do I and I've started noticing things too."

I don't ask what; I have a feeling I'd rather not know.

"He knew you were watching," she says after a while.

I’m not surprised she came to that conclusion. She’s a smart woman. "Yes."

"So he wanted you to see him?"

"Yes."

Her brows furrow. "Why?"

I give her the honest answer. "He's telling you that there's nowhere safe for you from him. The sunflowers, the envelope, the SUV, he wants you to know he can find you wherever you go." I set the mug down. "Ghost thinks he's getting comfortable, that he’s been here long enough that he's stopped being careful."

She gives me a sad look, one that has my heart clenching. "Or he's done waiting."

"Savage said the same thing."

"Which is it?"

"I don't know yet." I look at her. "But we will. Rogue's working on the rental company tonight. There'll be more by morning."

"He's not going to stop," she says, her voice soft, but I can hear the hurt in it.

"Not on his own," I say.

She looks at me. "So you're going to stop him."

I hold her gaze. "Yes."

She studies me for a long moment before nodding; she picks up her mug and goes back to drinking her hot chocolate.

I guess that was all that she needed to know.

I’ve no idea what the hell she’s doing; she’s been searching through drawers in the living room for the past ten minutes. I thought she was tidying up at first as she was moving things, but now I’m not so sure.

She lifts a stack of old magazines that are sitting in the corner of the room. "Aha!"