Seven Months Later...
Maisie
Someone was watching me.
Eight tables down, left corner, scarred cheek, hard eyes. From the scars I noticed on his fingers and the way he adjusted constantly to keep what he had under his sleeve hidden, it had to be a knife. Or a gun.
Assassin.
He didn't know I had noticed him since he walked in. Even if I hadn't trained my senses and instincts hard enough to detect it, his scent would've given him away. In a bar full of human men, rogue stunk.
"Hey, Lis," Mandy, the other waitress I worked the counter with during my afternoon shifts, said, grabbing two bottles as she headed upstairs. "Heads up. It's the old man again. Maybe give him your number or something?"
I made a face, but plastered a smile on my face as the grubby man who hadn't stopped staring at my chest all evening finally walked up the courage to approach me.
I thought it was a bad time. They had found me again. I was going to have to leave tonight.
