Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 64527 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 323(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64527 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 323(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
“Mom…” I knew that she wasn’t going to react well to my next statement, but there wasn’t anything for it. She had to be told. “Alex is here. He’s found where I’ve been staying.”
If I hadn’t heard my mom’s unsteady breathing on the other end of the phone, I would’ve thought that the call had disconnected, but the signal was staying surprisingly strong.
“Does he know where you live? Where are you staying? Are you safe?” The questions were coming so quickly that I could barely keep up with them.
I didn’t want her to feel guilty, since there really wasn’t any way for her to have avoided it, so I didn’t tell her about Dillon’s theory that Alex had had someone monitoring her phone records. “I had some voicemails on the old phone a couple of days ago, and he knew my address, so I had to get out of there, but I’m okay. I’ve been staying with a friend, and I’m safe.”
“What friend? And where could this friend live that would possibly be safe in that tiny town?”
“The house isn’t in town, Mom. Don’t worry. And Dillon used to be a cop, so I’m in good hands.”
“You’ll forgive me if I don’t trust anyone where you’re concerned. Who is this guy?”
“He’s a customer at my store. He’s a good man, Mom. He’s letting me stay with him and he’s making sure Alex can’t get anywhere near me. I promise you, I’m okay.” The answer seemed to satisfy her for the moment. “How can I reach you if I need you again? This number came up blocked.”
“I’m honestly not sure you can, Mom. I don’t know how he was tracking me.” I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned to see Dillon standing behind me. He handed me a slip of paper, a kind smile on his face for once. I unfolded it and saw that on it was written Call Hank- Mechanic with a phone number underneath.
“Wait. Dillon actually says that you should call his friend Hank. He’s the mechanic in town. He’ll know how to reach us.” I rattled off the phone number. “I’ll call you soon, Mom. I love you so much.”
“I love you too, baby. Please thank Dillon for me.”
“I will.”
I hung up and turned back to Dillon as I tucked the phone into my pocket. It surprised both of us when I flung my arms around his neck.
“Thank you, from her and me.” I whispered into his ear.
He wrapped his arms around my waist tentatively but strongly, and I don’t know how long we stood there like that, but it felt better than anything had in a long time.
I was putting the finishing touches of parmesan and parsley on two dishes of pasta as Dillon turned off the shower. When we’d gotten back to the cabin after my call with my mom, he’d gone straight back to work, and I’d taken a cursory look around the kitchen to see what there was that I could make into a good dinner for him as a thank-you. I didn’t start until he’d gone to the bathroom, just distracting myself with my book until he finally turned off his computer.
“What’s that smell?”
I turned around to see Dillon standing behind me, the moisture still clinging to his hair. The sight and smell of him post-shower sent a rush of warmth flooding to my core, and I suddenly worried that we weren’t going to eat dinner after all.
I cleared my throat and looked away from him, gesturing to the two plates. “I wanted to show my gratitude for getting me that phone and helping me call my mom. It meant a lot to me and to my mom.”
His smile crooked up the corner of his mouth, and his hand came out to touch my arm gently, sending a little wave of sparks up my arm. “I’m glad I could help.”
He grabbed the two plates of food, and I followed with the two bottles of beer I’d found in his fridge. “Wine would’ve been better, but I think this beer will go well with the pasta.”
“Of course it will. Beer goes with everything.” He grinned. “I’ll get wine next time I’m in town, if you want some.”
“That’d be good.”
We sat down on the couch, and we didn’t say much as we each took a few bites of our pasta.
“This is really good,” he said, his voice taking on a surprised tone that I found borderline insulting.
I shrugged. “When my mom first left my dad, money was really tight, and my mom wasn’t the best cook, so I was the one who figured out how to make the most out of what we had. It ended up being great, because during my externship, money was even tighter.”
“I would imagine so. How long was that?”