Total pages in book: 183
Estimated words: 174715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 874(@200wpm)___ 699(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 174715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 874(@200wpm)___ 699(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
“Wonderful,” I say, steeling myself for war. “Let’s go do this.” I head for the door.
I walk inside and Royce greets me. “Ashley is in the conference room. The agents are in an office. They sent someone I consider a bastard ex-friend. This meeting is not to help Ashley. You need to protect her, while I have someone in the CIA try to get me real answers. I don’t know what Ashley’s ex-fiancé is or was, except trouble. Prep Ashley and let me know when you’re ready. And make sure there’s nothing she hasn’t told you.” He leads me down the hallway and he’s about to open the conference room door when his phone buzzes with a text. “Houston, we have a problem. Roger is free. They let him go.”
“The man who attacked my wife?”
“Yes. Him.”
“How soon?”
“Already done. An hour ago.”
And now I know why I didn’t want to leave Lori at the coffee shop. My demons were winning. I felt this. I felt him. He was there. “Get someone to her. Get me to her.” I pull my phone out and dial Lori, but she doesn’t answer. I run for the door.
Chapter seventy-five
Lori
Cat and I are digging into the list of people we want to interview for the book when I realize I’ve finished my coffee in about fifteen minutes. I hold up my empty cup. “Guess what? Empty and I can’t think until I go to the bathroom.”
Cat laughs. “Want another? I’m going to grab one. I can get you one.”
“Yes, please.” I’m already standing. “Can you watch my purse?”
“Your phone is ringing,” she yells as I head for the bathroom.
“I’ll call whoever it is back!” I call out, certain it’s not Cole since he’s in the interview, and my bladder will not wait. I reach the door I’m seeking to find it locked. Great. Just great. I eye the men’s room. I might have to use it. A man passes me and enters, stealing that great idea right out of reach. I am dying. I knock despite the fact that I hate when people do that, but I’m desperate here. Another full minute passes and finally, the woman in the bathroom exits with her lipstick freshly polished, which she clearly did while I suffered.
I quickly enter the bathroom, lock myself inside and do what I need to do. Sixty seconds later, I am a new person and I wash up, glancing in the mirror while flashing back to last night with Cole. He pushed me hard. I grab the sink, a rush of so many memories filling my mind. Cole touching me, kissing me, taking me, and us, places that we have never been, but I know it wasn’t about the physical. It was about trust.
Cole doubts my trust, but he’s wrong to do so; I trust him. I hate that he feels otherwise and all because when I feel unsettled, or out of control, I immediately insulate myself. I know I do. I needed to be there for him, so I blocked out everything that might make me weak, including my attack. I don’t know how Cole would have dealt with my attack, though, if I’d been weak, if I’d crumbled. I did the right thing. I was strong for him, but deep down I know I’m still guarded, still afraid of being hurt, or loving Cole so much that I can’t live without him and then I have to. I need to just talk to Cole. I love that man. He listens. We’ll figure it out. And that certainty is why I shouldn’t be afraid. I know him. I know us. He is a part of me.
I suddenly remember the phone call and the idea that it might be my mother and she might need something hits me, though of course, she has her new man. She’s fine. Everything is fine. I breathe. I’m not running out of here in a panic to call my mother. I need to deep breathe. I need to stop expecting the worst. I can. Will. Because of Cole. I’m stronger with him than without him and I don’t say that enough. I’m going to tonight.
I open the door and gasp. A tall, bulky man who is all too familiar is standing directly in front of me, as if he was pushed up to the door, waiting for it to open. Shock radiates through me. “Roger,” I gasp t and back up. “What are you doing here? How are you here?”
He stalks toward me, forcing me further into the bathroom, and when he’s able, he seals us inside. “I only shut the door so I can talk to you without someone stopping me.” He holds up his hands. “I mean you no harm.” His eyes are bloodshot, pained. “I don’t know who I was the day I came at you. I didn’t mean to scare you.”