Free Quiver: Watched by Shadows (Quivering Shadows Book 2) by Livia Rook Page A

drink?” he blurted, “I don’t feel like going straight home, and maybe we can chat about how we can get you back on track?”
    If I went with Max to the pub, there was a danger of missing him , my mystery guy. Every evening after work, I’d normally hang around for a bit longer, pretending to do some extra work, just to make sure I’d catch the last bus home – the same exact one I took when I met him. I had hopes of re-enacting that most delicious night, but he’d not yet reappeared, and I ended up trudging home, disappointed.
    One evening I’d decided to ride the bus a little longer, and I got off to revisit Kingston station and what I called “our alcove”. I stood in the shadow of that alcove, hidden away from the other passengers, rubbing my palms over the cold steel door with my legs parted. Closing my eyes and hoping when I reopened them he’d be behind me, tall and beautiful and wanting me again. But he never showed.
    I didn’t want to be this person. I had to move on. I gave myself a strict talking to and decided not to think of him anymore… if only it were that easy. Maybe some alcohol would wash the memory of him away - at least for one night.
    “Sure, why not? I could do with a stiff drink.” What did I have to lose?
    I collected my belongings, and we walked down the narrow stairs to the ground floor together. The entrance was shabby; you’d never think it was the base of operations for one of the most notorious businessmen in the Northeast, but that was Terry all over, the Quadrello family way – he wouldn’t let Max spend a penny where it wasn’t needed.
    I watched as Max keyed in the code to arm the alarm. He skirted around me to grab the main door and held it open for me.
    Dusk had already fallen as we stepped outside. Max offered his suited arm, and giggling, I linked up with him.

Chapter Two

    F or a Friday night, the Castle Arms, which was conveniently (and dangerously) located just 50 meters from the office, wasn’t jam-packed. We were able to grab our usual seats in the corner, upholstered in rough, ruby-red, hard-wearing fabric with studs hammered into the backs. Looking around, you could tell the old place hadn’t been redecorated for years. The smell of tobacco smoke, ingrained in the furnishings, still lingered years after the smoking ban. Round wooden tables with their polished tops wobbled dangerously, and folded beer mats, depicting local heady brews, were re-used and strategically placed under table legs to prevent pints from toppling over.
    “What do you fancy? I’m buying,” Max asked.
    “Oh, a white wine. Thanks,” I replied, taking my seat and glancing around as Max made his way to the bar. No matter where I was, I tended to do this; it was a habit that was becoming a desperate obsession. Every street I walked, every bus I rode, every public place I entered, I searched the crowd – skimming over each person, skipping over blond-, grey- and red-haired men, trying to find that familiar face. He had short brown hair, quite like Max’s, I mused. The colour of dark chocolate - bitter, with a hint of sweetness. My fingertips still remembered the soft texture of his hair. Come to think of it, if it wasn’t for the difference of their eyes, they looked quite similar. How hadn’t I noticed that before?
    Maybe one day my searching would provide fruitful results. I shook my head, scolding myself. Enough!
    Returning, Max manoeuvred through the increasing number of patrons with drinks in hand and nearly fell into my lap as he brushed past.
    “Do you know if anyone else will turn up?” I asked. Sometimes, a few of us would end up in here after the work week.
    A sudden flash of disappointment crossed his handsome face. “Aren’t I enough for you tonight?”
    “I didn’t mean it like—”
    “I’m kidding,” he said, grinning his sweet smile. “Nope, it’ll just be the two of us. I heard the other girls talking about going to The Boat instead.”
    I nodded. Wasn’t