Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
Jason
After pounding on Angie’s door earlier in the evening—no answer—I keep watch for her car to drive up.
Fuck Ralph, anyway.
He was after Angie.
Of course he was. She’s beautiful, kind, smart. Who wouldn’t want her?
And when she rebuffed him, he retaliated.
None of that explains who kicked his ass, but I don’t rightfully care, to be honest. He had it coming. Trying to screw me over with HR, coming on to Angie. He’s a freak.
Besides, he’s older. Who the hell does he think he is? Angie’s just a—
I stop my thought.
Ralph is probably close to my age. Maybe a little older. Hard to tell. And I fell for Angie.
Who wouldn’t?
I continue to watch the cars drive by until—
Angie’s car.
It’s close to eleven o’clock on a weeknight. Where the hell has she been?
Probably studying at the library. No need to be concerned. Besides, Ralph can’t hurt her. He’s bandaged up in a hospital bed.
Once her car disappears into her garage, I put on my jacket and scarf and walk the three doors to her place.
I pound on the door and wait, shifting from foot to foot, hands jammed into my pockets for warmth. Tillie’s shrill bark echoes through the door.
Angie opens the door, Tillie wriggling in her arms.
“Jason?” She sets Tillie down. “What is it? I was just about to put her out. She’s been alone for several hours.”
“I know.” I cross my arms. “You weren’t here.”
She raises her eyebrows.
I thin my lips. “I mean, I came over earlier.”
“Oh. Sorry. Come on in.”
I enter while she ushers Tillie out the back door.
“So where were you?” I demand, my voice more commanding than I mean it to be.
She crinkles her eyes. “I had a dinner date.”
Jealousy spears into me. “With a man?”
She smiles. “As a matter of fact, yes.”
My heart plummets. I hadn’t even considered the possibility that she’d be seeing anyone else. “Oh.”
“But don’t get too worked up,” she adds, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
“Why shouldn’t I? Do you like him?”
“Well, yeah. I love him, actually.”
My stomach drops.
She holds up a hand. “Easy, Jason. You look like a truck just hit you. I had dinner in Westminster. With my brother.”
Relief washes over me like a tidal wave, leaving me weak at the knees. I slump onto one of her kitchen chairs, massaging my forehead. “Oh.”
She chuckles softly at that, crossing her arms as she leans against the kitchen counter. “You look like you just dodged a bullet.”
“Feels like it,” I admit, trying to regain some semblance of composure.
God, all that’s going on. I’m in love with my student, I’m dealing with this experimental surgery and its fallout, the HR nightmare…and Lindsay’s suicide note. Plus, Angie thought—if only for a fleeting moment—that I’m the one who attacked Ralph.
My life is a fucking trainwreck.
“Anyway,” Angie continues, pushing herself off the counter and moving toward the fridge. “Can I get you something to drink? You look like you could use one.”
“Water is fine,” I reply, watching her as she moves with ease around her kitchen.
She fills a glass from the tap on the refrigerator and hands it to me, her fingers brushing against mine as I take it. The contact sends a jolt of electricity through me, a reminder of the chemistry that seems to spark whenever we’re together.
“Thanks,” I mumble.
She simply nods and leans back against the counter, studying me with an unreadable expression. “You didn’t just come here for the water, did you?”
“No,” I admit. “I wanted to talk about Ralph.”
Immediately, her relaxed demeanor stiffens. Her eyes narrow slightly as she crosses her arms protectively over her chest. “What about him?”
I clear my throat. “Do you still think I did it?”
She sighs. “I don’t want to think it.”
“Then don’t.”
Another sigh. “My head has cleared. I know you didn’t do it, Jason.”
More relief. “You do?”
“Yeah, and I’m sorry.” She looks down, runs her hands over her forehead. “My mind has been a mess lately.”
“I hear that one.” I take a sip of water. “It seems he has a thing for you. Ralph.”
She drops her mouth open.
“I mean, he came on to you, right?”
“Yeah. But Jason, he’s a dickhead. I have no interest in him at all.” She grabs my hands. “I love you, remember?”
“I know, baby.” I squeeze her hands and then let them go. “But he said something to me when I left his hospital room. He said, ‘you never fucking deserved her.’”
She shakes her head. “Did he tell you who beat him up?”
“It wasn’t me, Angie.”
“I know that.” She sighs. “I’m sorry again that I doubted you. I know you could never do such a thing. And then, when I found out my brother was in town, for a hot minute I thought it might have been him.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Your brother? Why?”
She exhales sharply. “You don’t know my family. The men are a bunch of hotheads who will do anything to protect their women. Their wives, sisters, cousins, mothers, daughters. I’m not even exaggerating.”
“I get it,” I say. I would have done anything to protect Julia. Lindsay, too. If Ralph came between either of them and me, I’d have no qualms about beating him to a damned pulp.
“But it wasn’t him. He was out with friends last night, having a few beers.”
“Have you confirmed this story with his friends?”
She laughs at that. “I don’t know who his friends are.
Probably people he met at the conference.
But I don’t have to check out his story to believe him.
He didn’t have a scratch on him, and neither do you.
” She rubs her temples. “I don’t know what I was thinking.
I guess it’s just the uncertainty of it all. ”
She’s caught up in this mess just as much as I am, and the last thing she needs is more to worry about.
“Look,” I say, setting my glass down and standing to face her. “Ralph doesn’t matter. I’m…” I let out a breath. “I’m going to level with HR. Tell them about us. And then I’m going to figure out who murdered my wife.”
She places her hand over her chest. “You’ll lose your job, Jason.”
“I’d lose it anyway if I went to Switzerland for the surgery. Which I may still do if I can get to the bottom of this before then.”
“But anatomy lab…”
“They’ll find someone else to teach it. And you’ll do fine. Probably better without me there.” I run a hand over my face. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry about all of this.”
“For loving me? There’s no reason to be sorry about that.”
I swallow. “I didn’t mean to.”
“Neither did I,” she says. “It just happened.”
A shared silence falls, but it only lasts a minute before Tillie scratches at the door. Angie lets her in, and she jumps onto the couch in the living room and lies down.
“I need you,” I say.
“I need you too.”
“No.” I shake my head, stalking toward her. “I mean I need you. Now, Angie. Fucking now.”