Darlings of Paranormal Romance (Anthology) (91 page)

"Not without a kiss. Official visit
or not, I'm still your mother."

Brandt obediently bent to give his
mother a quick peck on the cheek before snagging Sam's arm and
pulling her down the hallway.

Sam felt the dozens of eyes following
their progress out the door.

"What was that?" Sam glanced behind,
sure she was being watched.

A line of curious faces watched every
step they took. Maisy stood in the doorway, a satisfied smile on
her face.

"The other side of my life," he
muttered.

Sam easily read the adoration for his
mother in his eyes. Her heart warmed. A guy who loved his mom had a
lot going for him. "Uh, oh. Has she got the wrong impression?" Sam
shook her head. "I don't know what just happened. I came to pick up
an injured cat."

"What happened? My mother happened,"
he said wryly. "She's a force to be reckoned with."

Sam motioned behind her with her
hand. "Is she always like that?"

"Yes. Unfortunately."

"She's lovely. You're very lucky."
Sam couldn't help but wish she had someone so lively and bright in
her world.

She felt, more than saw Brandt's eyes
upon her. She refused to face him. Thankfully, they'd arrived at
Nancy's office, so she didn't have to.

Just then, an overly large box
appeared, hiding the skinny man carrying it.

"Thanks, Jeremy. Brandt, can you
carry the cat out to the lady's car?"

"No problem. We're both
leaving."

"Thank you, Nancy. The hospital will
fix this guy right up."

Sam tried to peek under a corner flap
of the box. An unholy howl erupted, warning against going any
further. She grimaced. "I'll definitely be leaving him in the box."
She smiled at the other woman. "Thanks again."

Sam held the door as Brandt carried
the box outside. Sam rushed to unlock the passenger side of her
truck.

Brandt gently laid the box inside on
the seat. It was a tight fit, which would help stop it from sliding
around.

"There you go." He straightened and
studied her. "Sorry about my mother."

What could she say? "I thought she
was sweet. Thank you for carrying the cat." She unlocked the
driver's door and got in, anxious to avoid awkward good-byes. "See
you around." She cranked the engine and backed out of her spot.
After turning the vehicle around she was ready to head onto the
highway but Sam was forced to hit the brakes.

Brandt stood in front of the truck,
stopping her from going anywhere.

11:50 am

Puz
zled, she lowered her window.
"What's the matter?"

He grinned. "You ran away so fast
that I didn't have chance to ask you about Stefan." He held out his
hands, palms up. "If you have time, I thought we could go see him
later today. What's your schedule like?"

Sam stared at him in shock, as
excited jellybeans jumped in her stomach. "I can't right at the
moment. I have to get the cat to the hospital for
treatment."

"And I understand that. Stefan is
only about fifteen minutes from here so we can go later. But if
today doesn't work, we can plan it for another day."

"Really." This would be a godsend.
She needed to talk to someone who would understand. "What about
Stefan? Don't you need to check with him?"

"I spoke to him earlier. He suggested
we come mid to late afternoon. I was going to call and ask you what
would be convenient, then you showed up here."

She didn't want to lose this
opportunity by putting it off. Who knew when this chance would
arise again? "This afternoon would be great. Where do you want to
meet? Here? Or at his house?"

"No, it would be easier if I come to
Parksville. How about we meet around three at the vet's office,
then we'll go in my truck."

"That would be great." Sam beamed.
"I'll see you then."

"Bye."

Brandt waved as she drove past. Sam
was grinning so hard, she almost didn't see it. She honked the horn
once and drove off. The trip home went fast.

It was a good thing as her thoughts
were in turmoil. She had a million questions to ask Stefan and
didn't know where to start. Then there was the prospect of spending
the afternoon in Brandt's company.

Thoughts and ideas popped and
submerged, yet more mixed and brewed. She wasn't the same person
she'd been a month ago or even a week ago. What had changed
exactly, she couldn't say. Only that she didn't wear her skin the
same. Looser, maybe – and not from losing weight. Maybe it was just
a better cut, more suited for who she really was.

Strange ramblings from a troubled
soul.

Sam sighed. Glimpses of who she was
and what she was doing with her life flitted in and out like a
hummingbird. Enough to see the color and glow. Not enough to grasp
the meaning or details.

A black pickup pulled in behind her.
Too close for comfort, but not quite tailgating.

Sam peered into her rear-view mirror,
wondering if Brandt had followed her. The truck might be his. She
couldn't quite see the driver's face through the tinted windshield.
Did Brandt's truck have gradient tinting like that? She couldn't
remember. Still, she'd have recognized him behind the wheel, and
this wasn't him.

The truck moved closer.

Definitely, tailgating.

The big truck dwarfed her Nissan. She
knew nothing about vehicles and this one gleamed in the late
sunlight with enough chrome trim to blind anyone. The pair of ram
horns on the front identified it as a Dodge. A wave of relief hit
when she was able to identify that little bit.

Then the truck came so close she
thought it would hit her. Sam's heart shot into her throat, and her
stomach heaved. She tried to pull over and let him pass, but he
slowed down behind her. When she was almost stopped, he drove
forward and deliberately bumped her.

"Shit." Sam hit the gas hard, pulling
onto the road. She searched her pocket for her cell phone. She
punched in Bandt’s number. Sam switched her gaze from the road to
her rear-view mirror.

"Hello. What's up, Sam?"

"Some asshole is trying to run me off
the road," she yelled as the truck zoomed closer. The driver
grinned down at her. His features were little more than a white
blur – vaguely familiar, only too far away to be placed.

"What? What are you talking
about?"

"This truck pulled in behind me just
after I left you. He started tailgating me so I slowed down to pull
over, then he deliberately hit my truck. I couldn't help it. I
panicked and hit the gas. Now he's on my ass and grinning like a
madman."

"What kind of truck?"

"Like yours. Exactly like
yours."

This time he was all business. "How
far from Parksville are you?"

Sam searched for landmarks. "I think
about 7 or 8 miles."

"Anyone else on the road?"

"There's been the odd vehicle. Right
now the highway is deserted."

"I'm on my way. Keep driving. Don't
pull over if you can avoid it. You don't know what this asshole
wants."

Shivers worked down her spine.
"Great. I feel so much better now."

"Hang in there."

"Then you'd better drive like hell
because I'm doing thirty over the speed limit and this guy is still
on my tail."

He snorted. "Don't you worry about
that. I'm not that far behind you. You focus on staying alive. I'll
be there in a couple of minutes."

Sam turned off the cell phone,
keeping a wary eye on the truck staying on her tail.

The highway was flat and wide. It was
also deserted. There'd be little danger of an accident if she did
go off the road. Yet, the idea of having this guy stop while she
was stranded out here alone, kept her foot on the gas. Her little
truck rattled and shook at the high speed.

Alternately scanning the rear-view
mirrors and staring out the windshield, Sam increased her speed
again. A double lane opened up. She surged ahead into the slow lane
hoping the truck would take off.

Nerves locked down as tight as her
fingers on the steering wheel. As she watched the truck sped up. He
pulled into the fast lane to drive neck in neck at her side. Sam
felt the first stirring of anger. It helped to check the fear
bubbling through her blood. The asshole was playing with
her.

From her position, she could see the
lower portion of the passenger side panel, and huge monster wheels
flashing silver lights. Anger fuelled her next move.

It might not have been the smartest.
Still, a compulsion unlike any other took hold.

Sam hit the brakes hard. The black
truck raced past her. Sam whipped her small truck in behind the
black one. It had no license plate. Crap. Fear shot skyward.
Everyone honest and open had license plates.

She let the distance between her and
the truck widen. She watched anxiously to see if he would slow down
to torment her more or if he'd had enough. She wasn't looking for a
confrontation.

The truck pulled ahead, gaining speed
before racing around a corner ahead of her. Thank God. Sam settled
into her seat a little more comfortably. And breathed. It had
probably been a punk kid playing power games. The band around her
temple loosened.

She called Brandt. "He just took
off." Sam could see flashing lights up ahead.

"Did you manage to see the license
plate?"

"There wasn't one. Another reason for
my panic."

"Did he go straight
ahead?"

Sam checked all her mirrors even
though she knew the black truck was nowhere to be found. "Yeah.
He's long gone by now."

"And where are you now?"

"Almost at the first intersection in
town. I'm just a couple of minutes from the vet
hospital."

"Okay, I should be in the parking lot
by the time you're done in there."

Sam shut down the phone and proceeded
at a sedate pace. The poor cat. She glanced over at the box, but it
hadn't moved. There hadn't been a sound out of it either. She made
a face. It had damn well better be in there. She didn't want to
have to go back.

Sam kept a wary eye on her
surroundings, but never saw the truck again. Once in the parking
lot, she struggled to free the large box from the seat. The cat
howled.

Moving slowly, she carried the cat
into the first examining room and on to one of the small patient
rooms. Valerie joined her almost immediately.

"I really appreciate you stopping to
pick this guy up for me."

She glanced at her in surprise. "It
was no problem. I was glad to help."

"Good, good. Now let's see what we've
got here." She smiled at her. "Would you mind asking one of the
girls to join me? I'm going to need another set of hands for this
job.

Sam nodded. "Yes, you will. That cat
is pissed."

The vet grinned at her. "And with
good reason. Not to worry, we'll put him to rights, if we
can."

Five minutes later, Sam stepped
outside, not noticing the black truck until she was halfway across
the lot. She stopped, her hand going to her throat.

"Sam?"

Oh thank God, it was Brandt. She blew
out her pent up breath and walked toward him, relieved and
comforted that he'd raced after her. "Hi."

"Hey. How are you now?"

Good question. Sam tried to take
stock but found her mind shrinking away from what had almost
happened. "I'm fine. Part of me thinks I might have overreacted.
Yet, another part says I didn't react fast enough." She shrugged.
"I don't know what that was all about."

"Could you see the driver?" Brandt
stood, hands fisted on his hips, his gaze penetrating.

She frowned. "Not really, the truck
was so much higher than mine. I only saw a vague blur." She
hesitated, then figured what the hell. "I caught a glimpse of his
face in his rear view mirror, and although I couldn't get a close
enough look there was something...I don't know how to describe it.
There was something familiar about him."

"Was he tall? Short? Could you see
his shoulders above the dashboard? Was his head close to the top of
the cab? Hair, bald?"

He fired the questions at her so
fast, Sam stopped and blinked. "Tall, his shoulders were above the
dash, and his head did come close to the top of the truck or it
looked like that from where I was sitting. He had hair, some, I
just don't know how much."

Brandt nodded. "Anything defining
about the truck?"

"Yeah, no license plate." She bent
down to check out the rusted back end and the bumper. "He hit me
once and more than a little tap, but I don't see any
paint."

Brant squatted down, inspecting the
rear of the truck. "The height of the truck would determine where
he hit you. His chrome bumper might show traces of paint from your
truck, but not the reverse. The chrome won't leave any trace on
yours. It might have left a dent – not that we'd be able to see it
if it had."