Chapter Twelve
I was tired. Like hibernation tired. Unfortunately, my evening wasn’t quite finished with me.
As Mo pulled away, Phil stepped from the shadows and for a moment, I wasn’t sure if he was friend.
Or foe.
“You promised to wait for me.” He pointed a finger in my face to emphasize the point.
I got it.
The streetlight illuminated his face but his emotions were undecipherable, the boyishness gone. Perhaps I should have been frightened but it was beyond the fear I’d experienced when Fedora had blindsided me.
This was a friend—in pain.
Phil stalked closer, his breath hot against my cheek. “What’re you doing with him?” He nodded in the direction Mo had gone. “And why is he driving Bob’s car?”
I tried to look down—anywhere but at his crazed face—but he grabbed my chin, tilting
