The Survivor Read Online Jessica Gadziala

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Dark, Insta-Love, Suspense Tags Authors: Jessica Gadziala Advertisement

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But I couldn’t.

I had to grab my bag and keys from the lockers in the back room. Then I had to check the back doors and set the alarm.

It didn’t take me long.

But Mr. Kahan’s fancy car was long gone.

My stomach twisted as I grabbed the scissors out of the cupholder on the desk. The morning staff would be pissed off, searching for them high and low. But I didn’t care as I set the alarm, then quickly moved outside before the countdown finished.

Heart lodged all the way up at the back of my throat, I made my way toward my car on unsteady-feeling legs, the muscles all watery and unstable.

My finger hovered over the unlock button on my key fob, knowing I wasn’t supposed to unlock it until the last possible second, because anyone could sneak in if I did it too early.

Like some cheesy horror movie, I heard footsteps behind me, steadily approaching.

My breath caught in my chest as I glanced backward, but his head was turned, looking toward the building I’d just left.

But he was gaining on me.

I barely resisted the urge to run, not wanting to alert him that I was hyper-aware of his presence when he could easily overpower me with no witnesses around to see.

I kept my pace sure and quick, but not running.

I bleeped my locks as I came up on the side, and had a moment of panic when he went around to the other side.

Until I realized he was parked next to me.

“Idiot,” I murmured to myself as I got in and locked the doors, taking a second to look in the backseat before I felt like I could take a breath again.

I was being ridiculous, I told myself as I started my engine.

That said, it was odd, wasn’t it, that he’d parked next to me?

Right next to me.

In a big, open lot.

Even when it was busy and lots of people were around, there were plenty of other open spaces. Why park next to me?

God, I was getting paranoid.

I needed to relax.

I was just worked up about working late and alone.

Still, the guy was just sitting in his car next to me. Engine running, like mine was. But not making any move to back out.

It felt weird.

It felt weirder still when the second I backed out of my spot, he did as well.

“Okay. Alright. It’s not that weird,” I told myself aloud as I blinked to turn onto the highway.

But then I pulled out.

So did he.

I moved over to the fast lane.

So did he.

“Okay. Kind of weird,” I said, panic starting to rise as I once again switched lanes.

And, not five seconds later, he did as well.

I was moving on autopilot as I stabbed my finger into the phone screen, finding Wells’s number, and calling it as my heartbeat hammered when I turned off of the highway at the wrong intersection.

And so did the car behind me.

The sound of his voice managed to calm me almost instantly. And when he offered to let me come to his place, most of the anxiety fell away, making me realize just how much of it I felt about being alone in my own house. Even with as good a guard dog as Tilly there with me.

I felt a little silly when, finally, the guy turned off.

But not silly enough to tell Wells that, knowing he was at my house waiting for me. When he was offering to let me come to his house.

Even, if I wasn’t completely misunderstanding him, to stay the night?

I wasn’t sure on that, though, so I just grabbed an oversized purse, so it didn’t look presumptuous, and slipped a change of clothes in there, rolled up real tightly, along with my toothbrush, toothpaste, and a brush. I also tossed in a storage bag of Tilly’s food, a few treats, and her favorite two toys.

With that, I made my way back out.

To find him talking to Tilly like she was going to talk back.

And, yeah, I was pretty sure I fell a little bit in love with him right then and there.

I truly always believed that you could judge a person, especially a man, by how they treat animals. If a man not only took care of them, but was willing to act silly by talking to them or baby-talking them, then you knew he was a keeper.

“I was just telling her about Boss,” Wells said when he saw me, looking a little sheepish at being caught.

“What did she say?” I asked, smiling as I put my bag in my front seat.

“She’s withholding her judgment,” he told me, handing me her leash when I reached out for it.

“She’s been good with other dogs. We’ve gone to the park twice now, and she kind of ignores most of them. And if one of them comes up to her, she does the sniffing thing, but doesn’t seem overly interested.”

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