Stroke Of Fear by Alla Kar

sighs.
       The m orning dew is covering his face and my own. I wipe at my neck, and pull my damp hair from sticking to my skin. Birds are flying around, the morning sun beating down on us. Oh, no. What time is it? I search around for my phone, but I come up short.
       Sliding out of Tanner’s grip, I crawl toward the tailgate and jump off. I wade through the weeds, and dig around inside his truck until I find my cell resting in the cup holder.
       Ten in the morning. Shit, we’re so late. Shutting the door, I glance over the field, and my eyes stop by the edge of the woods. Someone is there. Watching us. Chills rack over my body, my hands begin to shake. No, it’s not him. He’s in prison. Attempted murder. Craziness. Fucking whacko. He. Is. Not. Out. The distance is wide, long between us. But, I feel his gaze like he’s standing next to me.
       He ’s wearing a white hat. Tilting his head to the side, he stares. Like Jason or Michael Myers. A soft touch breezes against my arm, and I scream.
       “Hey, it’s me,” Tanner says into my ear. “What’s wrong?” He turns me around to look at him. I try to open my mouth , but I can’t. I just point. He follows my finger, and his dark, brows pull down in the middle. “What is it?”
       What? I spin around, and my jaw drops. No one is standing by the woods. Was I imagining it? “He was… someone was standing right there.”
       “Stay here,” Tanner says, gesturing toward the passenger seat.
       “Wait, where are you going?”
       He turns around and lifts a brow. “I’m gonna go check. Get in the truck until I get back.” Nodding, I crawl into the truck and watch as he walks toward the edge of the woods and disappears.
       Had someone really been there? It was such a distance, but he looked so real. I’m not imagining things. When ten minutes hits I’m shaking against the door handle, my fingers lightly wrapped around the metal. Tanner emerges almost in the same spot. He is walking slowly, hands shoved in his jeans pockets. He doesn’t have a shirt on still, and I ogle him as he walks back. God, how hot can one person be? It should be against the law. He could easily give a girl a heart attack. It’s not only that he’s Ian Somerhalder gorgeous. It’s different. Humble. Masculine. He would be the spokes-model for sexy lumberjacks. His shoulders are wide, strong; his skin tanned and flawless.
       “I didn’t see anybody, darlin’,” his southern drawl brings me back to the present.
       I press my lips together. “You don’t believe me?” He doesn’t. Why would he? We just met. We’re just now starting—whatever this is between us—and now I’ve chased him off. No one believed me at first either. I had seen Michael around town for a while. He would follow me to school some days. Then he wasn’t there when I went to get the teacher. Ever.
       “ Darlin’,” he voice is deep, seductive. “If you say you saw something I believe you. Maybe it was someone from the house on the other side of the woods. A few cabins are there. I’m sure it was someone.” He runs his fingers along his jaw. “Now, you ready to go back to camp? We’re probably gonna get our asses in trouble. We didn’t show up for breakfast, and our campout starts in two hours.”
       He believes me. “Thank you. Let’s go.”
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Nine
    Aubrey
     
       Tanner and I both get texts on the way back to the camp. We have a camp counselor meeting in ten minutes. I can only imagine what it’s going to be about.
       “You think they know we’re gone?”
       Tanner raises a heavy eyebrow. “If Jake knows I’m sure he went to tell on us. Dumb bastard.”
       Twisting my fingers in my lap, I peer out the window. “Well, what do you think we should say?”
       Tanner doesn’t seem fazed. His arm rests behind my head, and the other loosely