Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 49416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 247(@200wpm)___ 198(@250wpm)___ 165(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 49416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 247(@200wpm)___ 198(@250wpm)___ 165(@300wpm)
“Again,” she says after remaining contemplatively silent. “I wish he would’ve been there. Whatever the result, we’d have an ending, right?” she sighs, rubbing her palms over her face. “Maybe I should answer his texts.”
My eyes flare, but she continues.
“Draw him out,” she says, shrugging. “I could ask him to meet me somewhere and then maybe…” she groans. “Then nothing, right? It’s not like the police can arrest him for texting me and leaving letters. Does tying up Gregory count for an arrest?”
I shake my head. “He didn’t hurt him.”
“If we didn’t go out there, he would’ve starved to death,” she counters.
“I know that,” I say. “I’m not saying what he did isn’t unhinged, but he didn’t physically harm the cat,” I say, indicating the purring, now sleeping, bundle in my arms. “So we can’t press charges for animal cruelty. You drawing him out would only give me a shot to speak with him, try to scare him off, but the risk isn’t worth that.”
A small, frustrated whimper comes out of her, and I extend my free arm, drawing her to me.
“When is this going to end, Owen?” she whispers against my chest.
I hate that I don’t have a solid answer for her.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “But you’re safe with me, and it looks like Gregory isn’t going anywhere now. We just have to stay vigilant. Caleb has never let me down before. He’ll get a lock on him, and I’ll do everything in my power to put an end to this.”
She looks up at me, exhaustion lining her features. “Why do I feel like this is going to get worse before it gets better?”
“Because you have good instincts,” I say. “I won’t lie to you. This stunt…” I look down at the sleeping cat in my other arm. “It’s a bad sign.”
“He’s becoming more violent.”
I nod. “His plea for you to meet with him isn’t because he wants to make amends with you, Zoe,” I admit.
“It’s because he wants to hurt me,” she says. “Like I supposedly hurt him.”
I press my lips into a firm line. “I’m not going to let that happen.”
She lays her head against my chest, reaching up to pet Gregory. “I know,” she says. “I just don’t want anyone getting hurt in the process.”
I hate that I can’t guarantee that for her. I can only hold her, protect her, and hope to hell we catch a break and I can settle this, once and for all.
“Looks like you have a cat now,” I say, trying to shift the topic and distract her. “How about we go shopping? He’ll need a bed and some food dishes at your place, and toys.”
Her smile is everything in this moment, hopeful and grateful, and I’m just fucking glad I put it there.
“That sounds perfect,” Zoe says, moving out of the break room, grabbing her bag on the way toward the front entrance. “And you’ll stay with us too, right?”
“Of course,” I assure her. “I’m not going anywhere.”
CHAPTER 16
Zoe
Ismile and wave at a few familiar faces as I head into the event room of the hotel. It’s been a long day of panels and lectures, but my conference has gone off without a hitch.
Some of the country's most brilliant minds and innovative experts in therapy are in attendance, and it’s been a productive day. I feel like I’ve learned more in the last eight hours than I have all year, and it’s been the perfect distraction after what happened with Gregory last week.
While I’m grateful the cat is happily living with me—Luna taking care of him while Owen and I are here in Charleston—I still can’t shake the foreboding feeling clinging to my skin. Spencer had crossed a line beyond harassment to downright threatening, and even though I reported it to Jim at the police station, I understood the limits of the law. Owen had been right, there isn’t a hell of a lot they can do without an actual crime being committed.
Which sucked, because it felt like tempting fate, waiting for Spencer to do something more drastic in order to get an arrest. It’s a shitty feeling, constantly analyzing and worrying, despite feeling safe with Owen at my side. But my conference is keeping me so busy, it’s a welcome distraction.
And now, after all the panels are completed, it’s nice to switch off for the day, heading toward my designated table where dinner will be served.
Owen follows behind me, never more than an arm’s length away, somehow looking as delightful as ever in a pair of black slacks and a black button-down, the top of his collar undone, showing off a peek of the ink that decorates his skin. I know he’s still carrying the gun, but he’s hidden it somewhere that isn’t obvious, likely so my guests don’t spot it and worry.