DEBORAH'S POV
I hung up on Elijah and my hands were still shaking on the steering wheel. The rage in his voice had been different this time. Not just angry but suspicious. Paranoid. Like he knew something.
The burner phone I'd took yesterday sat heavy in my purse. Three simple messages to make him sweat. To make him feel even a fraction of the fear he'd put me through over the years. The fear I was finally starting to acknowledge.
I pulled over at a gas station and grabbed the phone. My fingers moved quickly across the keypad.
"Are you sweaty yet?"
Send.
I waited thirty seconds before typing the next one.
"Look outside."
I could picture him rushing to the window, searching the street like a hunted animal. The thought gave me a sick satisfaction.
"Maybe I'm behind you."
