Chapter 37
Logan
“Logan!”
I turn at Betty’s greeting, seeing her and Josh exiting the stairwell. They look like they’re about to go for a run.
“Have you talked to Rilla?” I turn back to the elevator and hit the “up” button again. Then once more just to be sure. I don’t have the energy to be social at the moment. After finally getting a response from Rilla, I attempted to call her, only to have it go directly to voicemail. “She said she wasn’t feeling well and now I can’t get a hold of her.”
“She’s never sick,” Josh replies. The elevator arrives and they follow me in, their concern apparent. “When did you hear from her last?”
“She was supposed to stop by my office after her meeting with the publisher. She never showed up and now she’s not answering her phone.”
I told myself that she really wasn’t feeling well. Maybe she was coming down with something and wanted to be on her own. But the abrupt change from her correspondence from before her meeting gave me pause. She’d been so eager to try the new gastro pub near the office and we were planning to go right from work.
Something wasn’t right.
The elevator doors open and I make it to her door first, knocking loudly.
Nothing.
“I’m going to grab the spare key,” Betty says, jogging down the hall to her apartment. She returns a moment later, key in hand, and I’m grateful I don’t have to rip the door off its hinges. I consider myself a reasonable person, but, at this moment, I feel more desperate than I ever have.
The moment Betty unlocks the door, I hurriedly open it stepping into the dark and silent apartment.
“Rilla?” I call tentatively. Betty flicks the switch on the wall and the room floods with light.
“Rill?” Josh says a little louder. When she doesn’t respond I stride down the hall, the knot of fear in my stomach expanding.
Her bedroom is dark, but I can make out her curled-up form on the bed. I go to her, sitting on the bed and run my hand over her hair.
“Rilla?”
She sniffs, pushing herself up to sit. “Ever hear of breaking and entering? You’re taking your Pretty Boy Stalker role too far.” She’s trying to sound flippant, but her voice trembles. I fumble for the lamp I know is on her bedside table and turn it on.
We both squint at the newfound brightness, but the moment I’m able to focus it’s evident to me from her puffy, red-rimmed eyes that she’s been crying.
“What happened?”
She wipes at her face with the back of her hands before meeting my eyes. I’ve never seen her look so utterly defeated. “Bryce happened.”
My stomach sinks as a dozen different scenarios rush through my mind.
That worthless piece of shit.
“I need someone to tell me who the fuck Bryce is and then I need you to tell me where to find him,” Josh says from the bedroom doorway.
I say nothing, afraid of what will come out of my mouth if I do. I take her hands in mine, which are freezing despite the fact she’s still wearing her coat, and I wait for her to continue.
“He made a pass at me.” She stares down at our joined hands. “I told him I wasn’t interested. He basically told me to get interested.”
I force myself to unclench my jaw, because if I don’t, I won’t be able to make myself speak. “Did he touch you?”
“No.”
Relief floods me for a brief moment before the anger dominates my emotions again. Just because he didn’t lay a hand on her doesn’t mean he didn’t hurt her. I lean forward, resting my forehead against hers. “ Rilla, I’m so sorry he did this to you, but we’re going to handle it together. It’s going to be okay.”
“It’s the opposite of okay!” She pushes herself away from me, drawing her knees up to her chest. “I don’t even care about the book anymore. I would have told him to go fuck himself with a smile on my face. But he threatened your career.”
“Is that all?”
She stares at me like she thinks I’m not listening. “He said he’d fire you, Logan.”
“I would enjoy watching him attempt to.”
Her red-rimmed eyes blink up at me. “I don’t understand. He’s the publisher.”
“And I’m the editor with a full roster of bestselling authors. Even if he manages to convince my manager to fire me, which I highly doubt he’s capable of, I’d be taking some of those clients with me.” I thread my fingers through her unruly curls. “I’ve been fielding offers from other publishers for years, Rilla. I could find another position in a heartbeat or make a good living freelancing if I prefer.”
“But you stayed in it because you liked it. A few months with me and I manage to blow up your entire life.”
“I need you to listen to me and really hear me. None of this is your fault. This is Bryce’s doing and we’re not going to let him get away with it.”
“But your job…”
“I don’t need the job, Rilla. I just need you.” There is nothing I wouldn’t do for this woman. I’m not sure how to make her see that she’s more important than any job could ever be.
Her mouth opens, but no sound comes out. Instead, she nods her head and squeezes my hand again.
We decide to sleep on it and come up with a plan tomorrow. While Rilla takes a shower, I sit at the kitchen table with Betty as Josh makes his sister a grilled cheese sandwich at the stove. As we wait, I fill them in on Bryce.
“I knew I should have keyed that asshole’s car,” Betty mutters, darkly.
Rilla joins us before long, her damp hair dripping on her well-worn oversized sweatshirt. She smiles as her brother hands her the plated sandwich.
“You made it like Mom does. The slightest bit burnt.”
After she eats and promises to check in with them first thing in the morning, Josh and Betty leave so she can get some rest.
We get ready for bed. I use the toothbrush she bought for me to keep here. She’d acted like it wasn’t a big deal when she gave it to me, but it had felt like one. It still does every time I use it.
In bed she curls into me, head on my chest, my arms around her. It’s not until her breaths become deeper and more even that I relax. I hold her a bit tighter and close my eyes.