Price of a Kiss (Forbidden Men, #1)(92)

I was in the witch’s computer. And the idiot witch hadn’t even set a password. Score.

I stared sightlessly at her home screen a good minute, listening and practically waiting for footsteps, certain Mrs. Garrison would arrive now and murder me. But the first floor of the house remained silent.

Finally, blowing out a breath, I focused on step three of Operation Save Mason.

Clicking on the email icon, I rolled my eyes when I was sent straight to her inbox. Jesus, did the woman password protect nothing? You’d think she’d be a little more paranoid since she was so shady herself.

I shrugged again. Her loss. My gain.

Composing a new letter? I typed Jeremy’s address, [email protected], into the To box.

In the subject line, I wrote: Looking for Teresa Nolan?

And in the body of the message I typed in my new name and mailing address. I was just entering the town and state when I heard high heels on the stairs.

My veins jolted with a surge of adrenaline.

But really. This was so awesome. I couldn’t have scheduled her arrival any better than if I’d sent her an itinerary.

Enter one skanky landlady, stage left.

I was just finishing up the zip code when she strolled into the kitchen, carrying an empty wine glass and wearing a slinky green and black teddy.

Which Mason would never see her wearing.

She skidded to a halt when she spotted me, her stilettoes making her stumble. It was kind of comical, so I grinned as I waved at her in the most affable manner ever. “Hey. Cute nighty. Victoria’s Secret, am I right?”

Then I laughed as I pointedly pushed the send button right in front of her.

“What the hell are you doing?” She stormed forward, jerking her laptop out of my hands and sliding it around to face her so she could see what I’d done.

“Oh, I just thought I’d come over to let you know Mason wouldn’t be able to make it tonight.” With a shrug and guilty roll of my eyes, I confessed, “I kind of intercepted the text you sent him this morning.” Wrinkling my nose, I sent her an apologetic cringe. “Sorry, but he never saw it.”

“What…” Mrs. Garrison was too busy staring at her screen in confusion to listen to me. “What did you do on my computer?”

“I emailed Jeremy. Told him where I was and what name I was going under. I mean, wasn’t that what you kept threating to do if Mason didn’t keep servicing you?” This time I nailed a shocked expression like a pro. “My God, you weren’t bullshitting him, were you?”

Mrs. Garrison clicked into her send history, and her mouth fell open as she read the message I’d just sent. “What…why…” She shook her head, at a total loss for words.

“Okay, I have to know,” I said in a conversational manner as her face flamed red with confusion and anger. “Are those genuine Christian Louboutin shoes or knock-offs? Because I have always wanted to own a genuine Louboutin heel. And I would be pea green with envy if I knew you owned a pair. Are they very comfortable? Not that comfort really matters when your feet are wrapped in a pair of—”

“Are you totally insane? Why…why would you tell him where you are? You should be scared to death of this psycho.”

“Oh, trust me, I am. But insane?” I snorted and waved an unconcerned hand. “What a subjective term. I mean, what one person might consider totally normal—like, I don’t know…forcing her young, unwilling neighbor to have sex with her repeatedly—another person might think is totally repugnant. So, from your point of view, yeah, I probably look pretty much off my rocker right about now for sacrificing my own safety for the sake of saving the man I love from being blackmailed by a sick, vindictive, old spinster.”

Mrs. Garrison’s jaw tensed. “You’re as annoying as you are crazy.”

I pretended to think about it for a moment. “Meh. Maybe. My parents do keep trying to send me to a therapist. For the crazy part, not the annoying one. And I guess I can see where they’re coming from. I mean, being pinned against a wall with a knife to my throat by someone I thought loved me did kind of mess with my head for a while. But, you know what, I’m kind of glad I did email him…oops.”

I covered my mouth and giggled. “I mean, I’m glad you emailed him and told him where I was. I was seriously getting tired of always being afraid, of always glancing over my shoulder and expecting him to be hiding in every shadow.” I let out a refreshed sigh. “I’m glad this is almost over, you know. And hey, if he kills me this time, you’ll catch some of the blame for telling him where I was.”

Vibrating with fury, Mrs. Garrison hissed at me. “Get out of my house.”

I narrowed my eyes. “With pleasure.” Tossing my hair, I slid off her bar stool. “Oh, but one more thing.” I whipped out my hand and slapped her as hard as I could, actually wrenching her face to the side with the force of my blow. “Don’t ever touch Mason again. Or I swear to God, I’ll go even more psycho on your ass.”

Mrs. Garrison straightened and wiped her face just below her nose with a trembling hand. When she came away with blood on her fingers, I gaped. Holy swinging palms, Batman; I’d drawn blood.

Cool.

“I hope Walden kills you slowly,” she snarled, her hazel eyes glowing with hatred.

I grinned pleasantly. “If he does, I’ll make sure to come back as a nasty poltergeist just to brutally haunt you.” Twirling away, I strolled out of her house.