Read Online Stolen: A Novel of Romantic Suspense by Shiloh Walker - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Shiloh Walker
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better. Curling her hand around it, she started for the front of the store. The longer she stared at the
autographed copy
sticker, the more furious she got.
She’d always had a bit of a thrill seeing her books in a store. Yeah, she’d wondered what it might be like seeing signed copies of her books, but she wasn’t about to leave any sort of sign as to
where
people might find her. Even changing her name wasn’t enough.
Nothing was enough.
Plus, there was the little fact that she completely and utterly
freaked out
at the thought of putting herself out in public that way. Not just leaving a trail for him to find her, but putting
herself out there
—having to interact with people. It froze her with fear. Shay didn’t know if she had some warped sort of social anxiety disorder or what, but just the
thought
of having to face peopleand claim credit for work she was extremely proud of … talk about a mess of contradictions.
But she wasn’t letting somebody masquerade as her, either. On her way out of the door, she stopped by the book dump and collected the rest of the books, using a handbasket to carry them all to the register.
Becca, the part-time employee, stood at the register and smiled in Shay’s direction, but her smile wobbled a little as Shay dumped the books out onto the counter.
“Ah … you want all of them?” Becca asked.
“Yes.”
Becca blinked. “But …”
“Hey, the books are there to buy, right?” Shay offered what she hoped was a charming smile. She suspected it fell short, but it was the best she could do. “What can I say—you don’t get signed books in here every day, right?”
“No.” Becca smiled. “That’s for sure. We’re such an out-of-the-way little place, we hardly ever have authors who come in just to sign stock.”
While Becca finished ringing her up, Shay stood there, shifting from one foot to the other, the pain in her head blooming like an ugly, poisonous rose. She needed to get home and lie down.
“Hey, are you all right?”
Absently, she looked up and realized she’d been rubbing her temple and swaying on her feet. Forcing a smile, she nodded. “Yeah, I’ve just got a headache.” She glanced at the total and reached into her purse, pulling out her wallet. Extricating her credit card, she gave it to Becca. As the girl swiped it, Shay looked away, searching for the clock. She’d left her phone in the car and without it, she had no way of telling time. She had a habit of losing watches.
But instead of finding the clock, she found herself staring at a strangely familiar book.
The ARC the Shane imposter must have given Elliot. Her next book.
Blood roared in her ears.
“Here you go, Shay. Just sign my copy.”
Blindly, she took the receipt and scrawled her signature on it, barely able to drag her eyes away from the book lying just a few feet away. “Here,” she whispered, her voice reed thin.
“Thanks. Shay, are you sure you’re okay? Do you need some water?”
Man, had things gone to hell or what?
Staring at the computer was like being punched in the face.
Elliot had dealt with some rough-ass shit in his life. He had only been nineteen, Lorna just a year older, when they’d lost both of their parents. It had been a harsh blow—Paul Winter was their stepfather, but in all the ways that counted, he’d been their real father. Their
only
father. He’d married their mother when Elliot and Lorna were kids, and the car accident that had killed them had been a devastating blow.
Finding the woman he thought was
right
for him, only to have her remain as distant as the moon—that was the sucker punch that just kept on giving.
That fucking disaster in the army—the one that had been the beginning of the end for him—this reminded him of that. Another crazy-ass bitch trying to ruin his life.
I barely got away …
That was what she’d written in the Facebook note. And it was eerily similar to what somebody else had once tried to say about
autographed copy
sticker, the more furious she got.
She’d always had a bit of a thrill seeing her books in a store. Yeah, she’d wondered what it might be like seeing signed copies of her books, but she wasn’t about to leave any sort of sign as to
where
people might find her. Even changing her name wasn’t enough.
Nothing was enough.
Plus, there was the little fact that she completely and utterly
freaked out
at the thought of putting herself out in public that way. Not just leaving a trail for him to find her, but putting
herself out there
—having to interact with people. It froze her with fear. Shay didn’t know if she had some warped sort of social anxiety disorder or what, but just the
thought
of having to face peopleand claim credit for work she was extremely proud of … talk about a mess of contradictions.
But she wasn’t letting somebody masquerade as her, either. On her way out of the door, she stopped by the book dump and collected the rest of the books, using a handbasket to carry them all to the register.
Becca, the part-time employee, stood at the register and smiled in Shay’s direction, but her smile wobbled a little as Shay dumped the books out onto the counter.
“Ah … you want all of them?” Becca asked.
“Yes.”
Becca blinked. “But …”
“Hey, the books are there to buy, right?” Shay offered what she hoped was a charming smile. She suspected it fell short, but it was the best she could do. “What can I say—you don’t get signed books in here every day, right?”
“No.” Becca smiled. “That’s for sure. We’re such an out-of-the-way little place, we hardly ever have authors who come in just to sign stock.”
While Becca finished ringing her up, Shay stood there, shifting from one foot to the other, the pain in her head blooming like an ugly, poisonous rose. She needed to get home and lie down.
“Hey, are you all right?”
Absently, she looked up and realized she’d been rubbing her temple and swaying on her feet. Forcing a smile, she nodded. “Yeah, I’ve just got a headache.” She glanced at the total and reached into her purse, pulling out her wallet. Extricating her credit card, she gave it to Becca. As the girl swiped it, Shay looked away, searching for the clock. She’d left her phone in the car and without it, she had no way of telling time. She had a habit of losing watches.
But instead of finding the clock, she found herself staring at a strangely familiar book.
The ARC the Shane imposter must have given Elliot. Her next book.
Blood roared in her ears.
“Here you go, Shay. Just sign my copy.”
Blindly, she took the receipt and scrawled her signature on it, barely able to drag her eyes away from the book lying just a few feet away. “Here,” she whispered, her voice reed thin.
“Thanks. Shay, are you sure you’re okay? Do you need some water?”
Man, had things gone to hell or what?
Staring at the computer was like being punched in the face.
Elliot had dealt with some rough-ass shit in his life. He had only been nineteen, Lorna just a year older, when they’d lost both of their parents. It had been a harsh blow—Paul Winter was their stepfather, but in all the ways that counted, he’d been their real father. Their
only
father. He’d married their mother when Elliot and Lorna were kids, and the car accident that had killed them had been a devastating blow.
Finding the woman he thought was
right
for him, only to have her remain as distant as the moon—that was the sucker punch that just kept on giving.
That fucking disaster in the army—the one that had been the beginning of the end for him—this reminded him of that. Another crazy-ass bitch trying to ruin his life.
I barely got away …
That was what she’d written in the Facebook note. And it was eerily similar to what somebody else had once tried to say about
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