Celeste;
Damn it.
A sensation wickedly close to fear skates through my veins, pumping my pulse and peppering my skin with flecks of goosebumps.
My gaze darts to Judy, whose eyebrows are raised in concerned question, and then to Greg, mirroring the look on her face.
"What's wrong?" His eyes shift to the ringing phone in my grip.
"It's Romano." Swallowing, I mouth, trepidation coasting down my spine.
A sudden horror encompasses the thumping organ beating behind my sternum. Millions of dreadful possibilities play in my head at once.
Didn't I completely dismantle the tracker he'd built into the device he got for me?
My gaze falls on the call that's beeped to an end.
Then the silence that follows turns thick and heavy with something potent, stretched taut with stifled tension.
Could it be I hadn't completely destroyed the chip, and Romano had ears on all my conversations and activities?
