Her CEO Stalker and Her Second Chance Mate (Adelaide) novel Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Chapter 19

Briar

All the color had drained from Carter’s face when he finished reading the paper. There, it was

done. The authorities knew I was here, at least, as my alias. I just had to hope the cops in this

little town weren’t able to be reached by Creedon’s men.

He was driving slowly down the bend as I leaned my head against the closed window.

Exhaustion was getting the better of me every second as my eyes threatened to close. Days of

traveling on guard; working myself to the bone; trying to make Uncle Jake’s place work

without simple necessities; not to mention, the couch and its broken springs that dug into

me; as well as the injuries I was still recovering from, must be finally taking a toll on me. I

needed real food, something Beck had warned me about. I shook myself awake from drowsing.

I shouldn’t be so comfortable in this man’s presence.

“Ya know, Jake never mentioned you?” Carter questioned glancing at me, I forced my eyes to

the treeline.

“I suppose he wouldn’t. Mama chose to live in the Carolinas. She didn’t want the memories of

my father after he died.” Carter was quiet as he gazed over the dash at the road ahead. His

throat bobbed. I didn’t want to hear about my daddy right now. He was never in my life, what

was the point of chasing ghosts?

I was glad he didn’t say another word about it as he skirted the main part of town and pulled

into a lot in front of a manufactured building. He hopped out of the truck as I grabbed my

bag. I reached for the door handle and practically fell out as he opened it for me. He caught me around the middle before I could fall, but his firm grip sent agonizing pain through my

side, causing me to cry out. The second I was on my feet, he let me go and spun me before I

could mask the agony on my face.

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15:03 Thu, Oct 1

Chapter 23

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“Briar, you alright?” he asked, concerned, as I leaned my back against the truck and breathed

through the pain as it subsided. There was no hiding that.

“I think my ribs are broken,” I admitted, looking away from him and he swore. When I looked

back, I didn’t know if I was looking into the face of anger, or deep concern; his brow furrowed,

and his breathing was strained as if he was trying to control ragged pulls of it.

“What do you mean you think?” he growled.

“I don’t know for sure, not like I’ve had a chance to go to a doctor, or anything,” I said, going

to heft up my bag before he snatched it from me. What the fuck was his problem? “Give that

back!”

“What do you mean you haven’t been to a doctor?” he snipped.

“I don’t have to answer that, to you or any–fucking–body else,” I snarled, as tears threatened

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