44
Sara
I’m shaking as I enter the house from the garage, my throat tight with anxiety and my heart pounding in sync with the throbbing in my head. It’s well past midnight and all the lights are off, but I can smell the appetizing aromas of whatever Peter made earlier. My stomach rumbles, my body demanding fuel despite the adrenaline shredding my nerves. I’ll have to eat something soon, but first, I need to figure out where Peter is and whether he knows what’s happening.
“Hungry?”
The familiar deep voice startles me so much I jump, a panicked squeak escaping my throat.
A light comes on, illuminating Peter’s figure on the couch in the family room. Despite the comfortable temperature, he’s wearing his leather jacket, his tall, powerful body arranged in a casual pose that reminds me of a
