IMOGEN'S POV
The rain hadn't let up. It came down in steady sheets, soaking Portland in cold and weight. My phone buzzed on the kitchen counter, and I already knew who it was before I even picked it up.
Blake.
"Let's meet," he said the moment I answered.
"Where?"
"I'm in front of the apartment you rented," he replied.
I stilled. My heart didn't race, it didn't even twitch. It just froze.
"And how did you find me? Valentine Sutton's help?"
He hummed, like he was considering if he should answer. Then he hung up.
I went to the drawer under the hallway mirror and pulled the gun out. My hands didn't tremble. Not because I wasn't afraid, but because I'd rehearsed this moment a thousand times in my head. I shoved the gun into the waistband of my jeans, grabbed an umbrella, and stepped out.
