by Kelli Walker
“Thanks,” I said. “I appreciate it.”
And I did. Even though I knew Ryder didn’t believe me when I said it, I really did appreciate the lengths he was taking to keep me safe.
I just hoped he could see where I was coming from. Because for some reason, that felt important.
Him understanding felt important to me.
Ryder
“Just look around the bathroom. I need my shampoo and conditioner, my face wash, my toothbrush and toothpaste. Body wash. Razor. Things like that. And I have a fireproof box at the top of my closet towards the back. You might have to use something to swipe it off the shelving. At least I do. I don’t know how tall you are.”
I grinned as Alicia continued to talk Wilde through where to find her things. I was glad I got her to see my side, because the alternative put her in danger. The tension was thick between us, but I knew Alicia knew I was right. And that was enough for me. She didn’t have to be happy about the circumstance, but as long as she understood I was trying to keep her safe, that was all that mattered.
We pulled up to the front of her apartment and Wilde came bursting out the front door. But I could tell something was wrong. His face was etched with seriousness and the tone of his eyes as he crossed the road was ominous. I rolled down my window and grabbed the bag from him, then handed it to Alicia.
Then I turned my attention back to the phone Wilde shoved in my face.
“You have to look at this,” he said.
“What exactly am I looking at?” I asked.
“The guys and I left very late last night. Collected all we good and divvied it off to the right people. But there was something new in the apartment when I arrived to get Alicia’s things.”
“What was it?” Alicia asked.
I swiped through a few of the pictures before I noticed what Wilde was talking about.
“What the fuck is this?” I asked.
“Let me see,” Alicia said.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Hold on.”
“It’s my apartment. Turn the damn phone my way.”
I looked over at Wilde and he shrugged his shoulders. I didn’t want her to see it. I knew it would shake her up. But Alicia was already unbuckled and on her knees trying to peer over my shoulder.
And when she saw the picture I was looking at, she gasped.
“Where did you find that?” she asked.
“Your bedroom,” I said.
“It was tacked onto your bathroom door. With a knife.”
I could feel Alicia trembling against me before she sank back into her seat.
It was a picture of her and Langley on their wedding day. Langley was looking down at her while he cupped the back of her head and Alicia was gazing up into his eyes. With her beautiful veil thrown back over her hair and cascading past her shoulders. But the photograph was marred. There was a red ‘X’ through Alicia’s face and a hole at her chest where the knife had tacked it to her door.
“There’s something else,” Wilde said.
He reached his hand out and swiped, revealing a note written on the back of the picture. Well, not a note. Two specific words.
You’re mine.
“Was anything else out of place when you walked in?” I asked. “Anything else broken or taken? Added or scribbled on?”
“Not that I can remember, but I also wasn’t looking for anything. I’ve got Abram headed back to do a walk-through now that we know someone’s been back.”
“Someone?” Alicia asked.
We both turned to look at her as she wiped at the tears in her eyes.
“Not someone. Him. Langley.”
“We don’t technically know that,” I said. “We can assume it’s Langley, but we have no evidence pointing this to him.”
“I put the knife in an evidence bag, but even in the light I couldn't see traces of any fingerprints on it,” Wilde said.
“Tell Abram I want him to take pictures of the entire apartment again and compare them to the ones we took before. Him attaching this picture with the red ‘X’ to her bathroom door with a knife is symbolic. But putting that knife hole through her chest in the picture? We can officially take that as a threat on her life.”
Alicia whimpered and it took every ounce of my being to not reach out for her hand.
“Abram should be here in a few minutes, and I’ll try calling Yoake again. He was exhausted when we left, so there’s a good chance he’s still sleeping,” Wilde said.
“When you wake him up, tell him it’s the same rigamarole. Traffic cams. Security cameras. We need some sort of proof Langley’s the one coming and going. Not just a hunch. And tell him to get going on tracking down Roberto Martella. We need to know where this fucker is and soon. It does us no good to know he’s doing all this shit if we can’t get him off the damn streets.”
“I know, Smith. I know. But we just got the evidence in last night, so it’s going to take a couple of days to sort through,” he said. “But we’ll do it as fast as we can and keep you updated.”
“I know you guys will. I’m just pissed at this man’s cowardice. He’s a fucking prick that can’t face us down when we’re here, but he’s got no issues scaring the shit out of a woman. He’s the worst kind of man.”
“We’ll get him, Smith. We always do,” he said.
“Alicia, can you check your bag for me?” I asked. “I want to make sure you have everything because we’re not coming back.”
I turned my head when she didn’t answer and saw her staring out the window. Just staring. Her eyes were unfocused and a lone tear was rolling down her cheek. Her hands were white-knuckling the small bag in her hands as it sat between her feet on the floorboard of my car.
She looked like a shell.
An empty shell sitting on the side of a cliff.
“You two get out of here,” Wilde said. “If she needs anything, we’ll pick it up and swing it by.”
“Thanks, man. I appreciate it,” I said.
“And Smith?”
“Yep?”
“Keep your eyes peeled. I have no idea what the hell this guy’s game is, which makes him harder to track.”
“Got it,” I said. “I’ll let you know when we get back.”
I rolled up the window and Wilde tapped on the roof of the car before I drove off. I got around the corner before I reached out for Alicia’s hand. But instead of finding it trembling, it was merely unresponsive. I curled my fingers around her soft skin but there was no response on her end. I stroked my thumb against her palm, trying to elicit some type of reaction. A twitch of her fingers or the crinkling of her nose or the flexing of her hand.
But there was nothing.
“Alicia?” I asked. “Can you hear me?”
She snickered and leaned her head against the window as she curled her fingers around my hand. Her touch was warm and it shot electricity up my arm. Prickled the hairs on the back of my neck and sped my heart rate up. The first few days of an investigation were always the hardest. The only shit we ever had to go on were theories and possible motives until the guys could sort through evidence and start linking pieces together. I called it the ‘limbo party’. We’d all hunker down in the office with energy drinks and shitty snacks and pizza delivery. We wouldn’t sleep until all the possible evidence had been sifted through, run through labs, and prevailing theories were either debunked or given fuel to keep running.
We all hunkered down until the ‘limbo’ period of the investigation had passed.
With each turn we took, Alicia’s hand clung tighter to mine. Holding onto me as we weaved through subdivisions and snaked onto back roads in an attempt to see if anyone was following us. I could feel her pulse escalating against my skin. I could feel the protruding vein of her wrist beating against mine. She was scared, and she had every right to be. Until I knew what we were dealing with, I had to assume the worst. I had to operate under the assumption Langley wanted to kill her if he ever found her.
And with a desperate ex trying to get back what he thought was his to own? The theory was almost plausible.
Alicia
“Hey, girl. Are we on for our weekly lunch tomorrow?”
“About that…”
“Alicia. Come on. We had such a good time last weekend,” Becca said.
“I know we did. And it was wonderful to get out and laugh and enjoy myself without worrying too much about things.”
“So what’s the issue? Would you rather me come to you? We can totally do Wednesday night wine dates with a movie or something. Hey, I heard that my boy Channing Tatum’s recently single. We can Magic Mike it up!”
“I’m not at my apartment,” I said.
“What? Why not? Where are you?”
“So much has happened, Becca,” I said breathlessly.
“What the fuck did Langley do?”
“He trashed my apartment. When I came out to lunch with you last week, the guy who’s been watching me followed so he could keep an eye on me.”
“Wait, so your bodyguard was there and I didn’t get to meet him?”
“Becca, stop. This is serious. Look, I told him he didn’t need to follow me, but his professional opinion of the situation overrode my wants. When I left lunch and went back to the apartment, I walked into a damn warzone.”
“Did he break into your apartment or something?”
“Worse, he trashed it. He broke just about everything. Slashed the couch cushions. Broke the windows. Slammed my coffee pot on the kitchen floor.”
“Oh hell no. Coffee pots are sacred artifacts. Assholes don’t put there hands on that shit,” she said.
“And he wrote the word ‘slut’ across the window in my living room.”
“He what!?”
“Yeah. In the red shade of lipstick he always made me wear. Becca, I haven’t worn any fucking makeup since I left. And I didn’t take any with me. He bought that lipstick specifically for that purpose.”
“Okay, so if you’re not at your apartment, then where the hell are you? And why didn’t you call me? I’m getting sick and tired of you not calling me when shit goes down with this man.”
“I didn’t call you because it all happened so fast. I was scared and shocked. Speechless, really. And that isn’t even the entire story. I went back the day after because I forgot to pack my fireproof box and my toiletries, and Langley had gone back into the apartment. After it had been cased by the police and everything.”
“How do you know he went back? What the hell’s wrong with this man?” she asked.
“He left a picture tacked to my bathroom door with a knife, Becca. It was my favorite wedding picture of us. You know, the one where he’s looking down at me and I’ve got my veil pushed back?”
“The picture where his eyes are dead and lifeless?”
I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose as I sat down onto the bed.
“I’m sorry, Alicia. So he left a picture?” Becca asked.
“Yeah. With an ‘X’ through my face and a note on the back that said ‘You’re mine’.”
“For the love of fuck, tell me you’re safe.”
“I am. I’ve very safe.”
“Then where are you staying? I’ll come hang out with you tonight. I want to hug you. I need to see you with my own two eyes.”
“I’ve been told on many occasions that it isn’t safe right now for me to tell people where I am,” I said.
“And by ‘told’ you mean your bodyguard has fought you tooth and nail on it.”
“Pretty much,” I said.
“Can you at least tell me who you’re staying with?”
I sighed as I closed my eyes. I knew the moment I mentioned I was staying with Ryder, it would open up another floodgate of questions. And I wasn’t sure if I was emotionally prepared to answer them. Things had been tense between Ryder and I over the past few days. Ever since I’d gone to get my things from my apartment and that picture was found, he’d been pretty distant. Always on his phone or laptop. Always aware of what room I was in. And in some ways, I felt I was back at square one. Not able to go anywhere without asking permission. Unable to go somewhere by myself. In some ways, being under Ryder’s constant protection was just as stifling as being married to Langley.
But in some ways, it was nice.
For the past five days, I hadn’t had to cook one single meal. Coffee was given to me instead of made by me. I had free use of the jet tub in the bathroom attached to my room. If I ever ventured onto the back porch to have some privacy, he would stand at the window instead of invading my quiet moment outside.
He was courteous, even if he did have to hover.
And I wasn’t used to courteous.
“Alicia?” Becca asked. “Earth to Alicia. You there, girl?”
“Yeah, yeah. Sorry. Um, well. To answer your question, I’m actually staying with Ryder.”
“Who the fuck is that?” she asked.
“My bodyguard.”
“You’re at your bodyguard’s house?”
“I’m not sure if I would call it a house. More like a shining, fortified bunker. But yes.”
“And how did this development come about?” she asked.
“After our lunch. When we both arrived back to a decimated apartment. He asked me about going and staying with you, but I didn’t want to drag you into any sort of danger. I didn’t want him destroying your house, too.”
“Girl, you know damn good and well I would’ve been waiting for his ass with a shotgun.”
“Which is part of the issue. My lawyer sort of wants him breathing,” I said.
“Never said I would kill him. You can shoot a man many places and not kill him.”
“Then he suggested my parents, which… you know.”
“Yeah,” she said solemnly. “I know.”
“So the only other option was his house until I could find myself a new place.”
“So have you two slept together yet?”
“Come again?” I asked.
“You practically admitted he was a beef cake over lunch last week. You mean to tell me you’re staying in that man’s house and he hasn’t accidentally walked in on you after showering or getting into your nightgown or shimmying your jeans off?”
“You really aren’t getting laid, are you?” I asked.
“My boss is working me like a fucking maniac, Alicia. Give me some relief!”
“Then… yes,” I said.
“Yes what?”
“Yes. I’ve slept with Ryder.”
The silence on the other end of the line wasn’t at all what I was expecting.
“What?” Becca asked.
“What?” I asked.
“You’re shitting me.”
“No?”
“You slept with your bodyguard.”
“Isn’t that what you just asked me to answer?”
“I didn’t think you’d actually say ‘yes’!”
“What were you expecting then?” I asked.
“A ‘no’ so I could start berating you on how you needed to get laid!”
“I’m not following.”
“Alicia. Sleeping with your body-... okay. First question. In situations like this, it’s easy for the person being protected to look at their protector and confuse feelings of love with feelings of admiration.
“Was there a question in there?” I asked.
“You’re going through a lot, Alicia. And by ‘a lot’. I mean ‘a fucking ton of bullshit’. The last thing you need is to attach feelings to your bodyguard because he’s protecting you. That heroic thing always gets women off. Hell, it’d get me off.”
“Didn’t you just admit that you would tease me if I told you I wasn’t getting some? And now you’re lecturing me because I’m actually getting some?” I asked.
“I want you to be okay, Alicia. That’s all. Joking about it with you and knowing you’re engaging in it ar
e two different things. So, let’s serious the fuck up for a second.”
“Great,” I said flatly.
“How was it?”
“Really? That’s serious?”
“I don’t mean ‘how was his dick?’. I mean, how did you feel afterwards?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I felt… good. Pretty. Cherished.”
“Did he do anything you didn’t like?”
“Oh no,” I said breathlessly. “He did everything just right.”
“Then that’s a step in the right direction. What was his reaction after?”
“Immediately after? Or, like, when we next talked?”
“Is there a difference?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I might’ve fallen asleep in his arms after it was all said and done.”
“Oh, shit. He got you good, then,” she said.
“So we’re not being serious anymore?” I asked.
“We are, we are. Sorry. So, what was it liked the next time you two talked?”
“For starters, I woke up in a bed. With my stuff in the room. Which meant he carried me to bed after I’d fallen asleep.”
“Oh, so he is strong. Mmm. Okay. Keep going.”
“If I hear you start to moan, I’m blocking your fucking number,” I said.
“I give you my word I’ll be silent,” Becca said.
“That a thing you can do?”
“Bitch. But seriously, how did it go once the two of you talked after?”
“It wasn’t what I thought it would be, if I’m being honest. Without going into too much detail-”
“Oh no. All the details. If I can’t see you for lunch, then this is our gossip hour,” she said.
“Then there’s part of this story you should know before I progress, and I don’t need your commentary.”
“Holy fuck. What is it now?”
“I know Ryder from high school.”
“Oh, a sordid past. Was he a bully? A bad boy? Oh shit. The quarterback of the football team?”
“We dated in high school, Becca.”
I heard a deep sigh on her end of the line as I bit down onto my lower lip.
“You really know how to make everything unsexy, don’t you?” she asked.
