Phantom Lover

Chapter One-3

AT A QUARTER PAST TEN, Paige climbed between the cool sheets of her bed. She was exhausted, more mentally than physically, but refused to ponder the what-ifs and the why of Rex being seen around town.

As she drifted off, somewhere in the haze of semi consciousness, she felt a gentle, masculine hand caress her cheek. A soft breath whispered her name against her forehead, and she detected a hint of cologne that filled her with sleepy desire. Mentally she reached out to grasp the soothing feelings.

Soon the sensations vanished, and she sighed with yearning, falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.

An hour later her cell phone on the night table rang, jolting her out of the best sleep she'd had in years. Her mind foggy, she reached out in the darkness and found the phone and answered.

"Hello?" No answer came. All she could hear was breathing: slow, even, deep.

Frowning, she looked at the screen but didn't recognize the number. "Hello?" she said a little louder, prepared to hang up when no answer came for the second time.

"Did you think you could get away from me, Paige?" A low, slurred voice she recognized all too well snaked its way through the telephone line and coiled around her neck, nearly suffocating her.

"Rex!" She sucked in a quick breath, sitting upright, her eyes darting around the dark room as if he stood in the shadows waiting to attack. Had he found her? Was he coming back to make good on his promise of until death do us part?

"Were you expecting somebody else, darling?" He gave a rough snort. "Surely you're not seeing another man behind my back?"

Paige quickly gathered her senses. There was no way he could hurt her over the telephone. Reaping strength from the knowledge, she sat up a little straighter and switched on the lamp by her side.

"Even if I was seeing another man, it's none of your business. We're divorced, Rex. We had no further ties as of six months ago. Longer than that if you want my opinion."

"I'll get you back. You'll be mine again someday." A low, animal-like growl followed a short, bitter laugh. "You took everything away from me. Everything I worked so hard for."

Paige sighed, knowing she should just hang up and be done with it. Rex was always a man of much talk and little action. Even while they had been married, his abuse had come in the form of verbal assaults, not once had he laid a hand on her. Still, it sent shivers up her spine knowing he had her phone number. She would call the company in the morning and have it changed.

"The only things I took when I left you were the clothes on my back, the old car, and enough money to start over." She had refused alimony payments.

"You're forgetting yourself, my sweet." He whispered roughly, "You...are...mine."

"No," she said firmly, as if trying to make a child understand.

His deep breathing was loud over the phone line. "I'll be back. When you least expect it. When your guard is down, and you think I've forgotten, you'll turn around and I'll be there. And next time you won't get away." He laughed then hung up.

For several minutes, Paige sat there with the phone gripped so tightly all blood supply was cut off to her fingers, leaving them cold. Her eyes saw nothing as she stared across the room wondering if Rex would make good on the promise. He couldn't possibly know where she lived. It was rare when she left her home and traveled into the city. Marge would never tell him. But he had found her phone number. It would only be a matter of time before he found her.

A voice in her head told her to run, to get away while she could and find safety in another city, perhaps another state. Fly all the way to the moon in a paper airplane if she had to. Anything to avoid confronting Rex again.

In the next heartbeat, determination welled in her. She was through running. For three months after she'd first left him, she had lived out of motels, praying he would never find her. Afraid to look back in fear that he’d be standing there: tall, angry, and ready to drag her back with him. No more. She was here to stay.

She would do all she could to avoid Rex, but if a confrontation ever arose, so be it. But she didn't want to think of the outcome.

With a shaky hand, she put her phone on silent so she wouldn't be subjected to any more of Rex's nocturnal calls and set it back down.

Knowing she would never be able to sleep, she got up and slipped on her lavender chenille robe. Going downstairs, she brewed a cup of passion flower tea, hoping to get rid of the strong, metallic taste of fear in her mouth and chase away the chill seeping into her bones.