The Man Who Never Looked Away novel Chapter 26

Subtropical storms were notorious for their brutal, unrelenting ferocity.

Standing essentially beneath a torrential waterfall, the rain blurred her vision and made it incredibly hard to catch her breath.

Her phone was completely waterlogged, likely ruined beyond repair.

Her husband had taken a single phone call from his lover and abandoned her on the side of a highway. You wouldn't even dump a stray dog by the side of the road like that.

Being a fool always came with a steep price.

Wiping her face, she turned and trudged forward, desperately searching for any sort of shelter.

Suddenly, a sleek black SUV pulled up alongside her, hazard lights flashing. The passenger window rolled down, allowing the driving rain to instantly drench the interior.

Charley Sheffield was behind the wheel. "Get in!"

Without a second thought, she yanked the back door open and scrambled inside.

Before she could even buckle up, he shrugged off his suit jacket and handed it over. "Put this on."

Too cold to be polite, she draped the heavy fabric over her trembling shoulders. She was completely soaked, her clothes practically translucent against her skin.

"Charley, what a coincidence."

"I was just driving past."

"I can't believe you spotted me in this absolute downpour."

She wrung the excess water from her dripping hair.

"Honestly, if you hadn't shown up, I think I might have drowned out there."

Charley didn't say a word.

She caught his reflection in the rearview mirror.

He was furious. But why?

***

The storm battered the windshield relentlessly.

Cars crawled forward at a glacial pace, their red taillights bleeding together into one endless, blurry ribbon.

He pulled up the navigation system. The map was a sea of deep crimson, with only a few sporadic stretches of green indicating a clear path.

"I'm going to take the next exit and get off the highway. We'll head to my place first."

The entryway lights flickered to life.

Standing in the foyer, she paused to take in the space.

The interior was decorated in a timeless, sophisticated aesthetic. Rich cherry wood furniture lent the room an air of quiet luxury.

A plush white throw blanket was draped casually over a supple leather sofa, weighted down by a stack of thick, academic-looking books.

Charley was soaked as well. He flicked a switch, and the electric fireplace hummed to life. A warm, golden glow quickly spread across the room, chasing away the bitter dampness.

"The bedrooms are upstairs. Let me grab you some dry clothes."

She followed him to the second floor. As he disappeared into a walk-in closet, her eyes drifted toward the bathroom door.

He emerged moments later carrying a set of loungewear, looking mildly apologetic. "I only have my own stuff. But dry clothes are better than wet ones, so I hope you don't mind."

"Charley," she managed, her teeth chattering so violently she could barely speak. Swallowing her embarrassment, she asked, "Could I please take a shower?"

He blinked, momentarily caught off guard.

"Oh, right. Of course," he recovered quickly. "Let me show you how the hot water works."