Angela turned on her heel, leaving Diego in her wake. She didn’t want to be around him anymore, didn’t want to look at him. More than Germaine Fuentes, this man was the monster from her dreams. She knew he’d haunt her for years, but she didn’t dwell on it in the moment. She had to focus on moving forward.
Unfortunately, her newfound hate was incredibly blinding. It kept her from seeing the man jump out from behind the car until it was too late. There was something cold and sharp pressed against her throat. Her heart was pounding wildly, though her brain hadn’t quite caught up to what was happening.
“Give me your money,” the man growled harshly into her ear.
Of course. This is what she got for trusting the man she no longer knew. She should’ve made him come to her father’s house.