Forbidden Fruit Read Online Free PDF

tailing me again, I’m sure he’ll find something to charge you with.”
    The man stills, scanning me head to toe at a leisurely pace, and I feel like I need a hot shower. Or maybe I need to sit in the shower to rock and weep…because I’ve never felt tainted by a look before. In the afternoon sunlight, his eyes glint strangely, first yellow, and then red, like blood’s flowing inside his sclera.
    “Well-played, Ms. Cheney. I assure you, you won’t spot me next time. Not until it’s too late.”
    “What does that even mean?” It sounded like a threat.
    But he’s already striding away, crossing the busy street with a speed and agility entirely foreign to his build. Belatedly I realize, that bastard knew my name. At that point, my flight instinct kicks in. I grab my stuff and sprint all the way home.
    Maria’s at work, so she doesn’t witness my collapse against the front door. All my natural intuition tells me that guy wasn’t normal. I feel like such a dipshit since I’ve been full of big ideas about taking care of myself, but this is weightier than dinner or the phone bill. So I type a succinct message to Jesse about my creeper and then send him the photo.
    I’m surprised when he calls me five minutes later. I figured he’d be tied up in interviews today, but he might have the day off. I haven’t memorized his work schedule or anything.
    “You all right, sugar?” His voice is buttery sweet, warm with concern, and my toes actually curl.
    “Yeah, he just freaked me out.”
    “Tell me what happened, exactly what he said.”
    So I repeat the encounter, word for word. He sounds troubled when he replies. “Sounds like you’ve drawn somebody’s eye.”
    “Not a normal perv, right?”
    “I’d say no. Be careful, okay?”
    “Do you think this has to do with the spell?”
    He hesitates. I so wish I could see his face right now. “Hard to say. Maybe.”
    “Chuch and Eva know something, by the way. But they’re not talking. Did you find anything out?”
    “Sort of. There’s no relevant chatter on Area 51, but…today, my boss asked me if I was still dating that sweet redheaded girl.”
    He’s seeing someone? What the hell . Somehow I keep my voice from trembling. “Well, are you?”
    “That’s the strange thing, Shan. To the best of my recollection, I’ve never gone out with anyone like that.”
    “Just how big is this spell?” I wonder.
    “No idea. But we need to get to the bottom of it.” His voice deepens, softens. “You’ll stay safe for me, right?”
    “Anything for you,” I answer breezily, and I guarantee he has no idea how much I mean it.

Five

    Sunday is laundry day. I use two bucks to wash my work uniforms, which is almost all I wear during the week, so I’m set when Monday rolls around.
    The next morning, I take the bus to work, as usual, and I’m jumpy, watching for the spooky dude, but I don’t spot him. There’s just the usual bunch of commuters who can’t afford a car or insurance or both. They nod at me as I board; I lift my chin in response.
    I sit next to an older woman who clutches her bag as if I’m likely to mug her. People often respond that way to the piercings and my general style. It’s not personal, though. I’ve watched folks with similar looks receive the same treatment.
    It’s a decent day, bright enough and unlikely to rain. Most of us hop off at the mall and I traipse inside, ignoring the kid from the hamburger stand who’s puffing away near the ashtrays; he looks like he isn’t even old enough to buy smokes. I give him a wide berth. Despite my cold shoulder, he falls into step beside me.
    “Shouldn’t you be in school?” I ask.
    That makes him scowl. “I graduated last year.”
    “And you’ve come so far. Your mother must be so proud.”
    “I don’t know why I bother trying to be nice to you.”
    So maybe he’s attempting humor when he makes the paper pirate hat? Or possibly it’s a nerd courtship ritual. “It’s a mystery to us