Catching Summer (Second Chances, #6)(68)

I sat down in my chair and took a sip of my wine, glancing at my cellphone out of the corner of my eye. Groaning, I snatched it up; it was dead. What the hell? No wonder I hadn’t heard from Evan. The music blared from the bar, but it didn’t mute the sound of footsteps coming down the hall.

“Grayson?” I called. Getting up from my desk, I opened the door and peered out. Nobody was there. I walked into the dining area and all around the restaurant. It was empty, or at least I hoped it was. To be on the safe side, I shut off the music and held my breath; there were no sounds of movement. It was most likely paranoia over recent events.

In my office, I sat down and drank the rest of my wine, feeling its warmth as it pooled in my belly. Most of the time, wine helped me work better, but this time it wasn’t my friend. My vision started to blur and my heart raced in my chest. What was going on? Everything began to get really heavy, including my arms and my head. All I wanted to do was crawl on top of my desk and pass out. The light faded and darkness began to creep in. Before I passed out onto the floor, I heard a voice shout my name and a set of strong arms lift me up in the air. That was the last thing I remembered.

—

Eyes closed, I could feel the bed beneath me and it was familiar. The smells reminded me of a place I hadn’t been in a while. It was home, or, rather, the place that used to be my home before I took the plunge and moved in with Evan. Opening my eyes, I snuggled into my pillow and sighed. I’d missed my bed. Maybe Evan would let me put it in one of his guest bedrooms.

“Evan?” I called. Sitting up in bed, I noticed I still had my dress on from earlier, but for the life of me I couldn’t remember how I’d gotten home. I remembered working in my office and that was it. “Evan, are you here?” I started to get up but then heard footsteps pounding up the stairs. I smiled, thinking Evan was going to be the one to greet me, but it wasn’t—it was Philip. “What are you doing here?”

Dressed in a pair of jeans and a dark T-shirt, he lifted his hands in the air. “I’m just here to help you. You passed out at the restaurant.”

“Then why didn’t you take me to the hospital?” I inquired cautiously, gripping the sheets.

He approached slowly. “Because you told me not to. Don’t you remember?”

Closing my eyes, I rubbed my forehead, willing the memories to surface. They were gone. “No. What I want to know is how you got into the restaurant. The doors were locked.”

“The front one was, but the back one wasn’t. I told you I would come see you when I got back into town. I wanted to apologize again, face to face.”

“For what? What you said to Evan? Apparently, you told him I’d wanted you to kiss me. Why did you lie?”

Sighing, he sat down on the edge of the bed, and my fight-or-flight response flared to life. I wanted to get up and run, but I had to make sure I could get away. “It was a mistake, and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that to him, but he came to my house threatening me. I wanted to shake him up a bit.”

“Are you sure that’s it?”

He moved closer. “Yes, I promise.” Looking into his eyes, I knew without a doubt that he was lying. Something had changed in him, and it made my skin crawl.

“I’m thirsty,” I blurted. “I think I need to get something to drink.”

I started to get up, but he put a hand on my leg. “I’ll get it. Stay here and rest. If you feel like you need to go to the hospital, I can take you.”

The last thing I needed to do was get in a car with him again. There was no telling where he’d take me. Lying back down, I forced a smile and said, “Thanks. No ice, please.”

As soon as he disappeared downstairs, I rushed out of bed and searched my room. My phone was nowhere to be found, and the house phone had been removed. What the f*ck? I could hear him in the kitchen so I tiptoed down the stairs as quietly as I could. Peeking around the corner, I spied Philip fixing me a glass of iced tea. Everything looked normal until he reached into his pocket and pulled out a syringe filled with clear liquid. He expelled some into my tea and then got out another syringe and stuck that one in his arm, hissing as the contents were pushed into his veins. Holy f*ck.

He was blocking the kitchen door, which meant I couldn’t escape through there. I didn’t have the keys to get out the front one. Goddammit, what was I going to do? My purse was nowhere to be seen and neither were my keys. Tiptoeing back up the stairs, I searched as fast as I could for anything I could use as a weapon. There was nothing except one of Austin’s guns locked in my safe, but I couldn’t remember the combination without the cheat sheet. I rushed to my room and did the only thing I could think of. Philip’s footsteps pounded against the steps and my heart raced. I jumped into bed and made sure my wastebasket was hidden beside my nightstand before closing my eyes, hoping like hell I could calm my breathing. I knew how this was going to work. I was afraid that if he suspected I wanted to flee, he’d use force.

Philip smiled as he entered my room with my glass of tea in his hands. I was curious to know what he’d put into it, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to drink it and find out. “Here you go,” he said, handing me the cold glass. He sat down on my bed as if it were normal and watched me with wolfish eyes. “Drink up. You’re dehydrated.”

Bringing the glass to my lips, I tilted it back and pretended to drink. There was no way I could do that without him getting suspicious when the tea never got any lower. Across the room, I spotted my favorite blanket draped over my loveseat. Shivering, I nodded toward it. “Do you mind getting me that? I’m freezing.”