Escape: A Stepbrother Romance Novella by Brother Stephanie

Author:Brother, Stephanie [Brother, Stephanie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-08-03T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

Samantha

I hardly slept after Brandon cut our call short. When I did my dreams were surreal and they left me feeling strange the next day. I was up and out of my apartment quickly, wanting to get to the office so I could arrange more surveillance on Brandon. There was something very wrong about last night. He sounded bad. He’d been too in need of company or comfort when only hours earlier he’d been so determined that we weren’t going to be in contact. I wonder what happened to him to make him break his conviction. What changed his mind?

Maybe it was just a one-time thing.

I hope it wasn’t with a fierceness that makes me tremble.

John, the P.I., is busy with another case but he has a friend called Dirk who takes the job. I arrange three days surveillance with a review at 7pm each day so we can decide what to do next. If they can identify Brandon’s known associates I might be able to cross check their records for criminal convictions and get an idea of what’s really going on. I feel better too, knowing someone will have eyes on Brandon. It’s like a layer of protection and makes me feel less helpless about his situation.

I have a full workload but by lunchtime I’m feeling lightheaded and in need of a break. I take the elevator down to my favorite deli and sit at the counter sipping an iced tea while I wait for them to prepare my sandwich. The TV is on in the corner and something about an earthquake overseas comes on. I’m straining to see the details when a man takes a seat on my right.

“Terrible isn’t it,” he says, reaching across to get the packets of sugar that are in front of me.

I look over at him. He’s in his forties, dressed a little casual for this part of town, but he smiles widely with friendly eyes that crinkle at the side.

“Yeah, where is that?” I ask.

“Nepal,” he says. “Those poor countries always seem to suffer the worst luck.”

“Yeah,” I say and reach to stir my drink absentmindedly with the straw. I go back to watching the TV, seeing the estimated casualties and sighing at the terrible loss. The man at my side orders an espresso and sips it carefully.

Adriano, the owner of the deli, hands me my sandwich and I take a bite. It’s delicious and I eat it slowly, still feeling light headed from rushing about. The man at my side keeps talking, telling me about the places he’s visited in Southeast Asia and how beautiful they are. It’s interesting because I’ve never been to that part of the world and would love to travel more.

When I’m getting to the end of my sandwich I start to feel strange. It’s weird because I really love the taste of mozzarella and tomato with a basil dressing but the last few bits seem off, almost metallic. I place it down on my plate and take a big drink of iced tea, trying to wash my mouth clean.

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