11. Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER 11
~LEVI~
I stretch and reach over to pull Starla into my arms. We start every night tangled together, but ultimately end up rolling away.
But when I reach over, I’m met with cold bed sheets.
No Starla.
I crack an eye and glance around. The room is bathed in grey light, the first signs of morning just starting to peek through.
She must be downstairs working. Most nights, she sleeps fine through the night, but once in a while, insomnia hits her. When it does, she usually goes to fool around on her piano.
I pad downstairs, but there’s no sound coming from the living room. No smells from the kitchen.
“Starla?”
I prop my hands on my hips and listen.
Nothing.
“What the hell?” I hurry back upstairs, my heart starting to pound in my chest with worry. I reach for my phone and dial her number.
“Good morning,” she says.
“Where are you?”
“I’m taking a walk by the waterfront. You were sleeping so peacefully, I didn’t want to disturb you.”
“Are you near Lady Liberty?”
“About a hundred yards, yeah.”
“Stay where you are.”
Before she can answer, I hang up and reach for a pair of shorts and a tank, then hurry out of the house, jogging down to the waterfront.
It’s not far. I glance up and down the sidewalk and see her sitting on a bench not far from the monument.
She smiles at me as I hurry to her, then frowns when she sees my face.
“What’s wrong? Did something happen?” she asks.
“Yeah, I woke up, and you were gone.” I pull her in for a hug. “Don’t do that to me. If you want to walk, just wake me up and say so.”
“You were sleeping,” she reminds me, frowning up at me. She sets off down the sidewalk, and I fall into step beside her. “I am a grown woman, and I’m allowed to walk whenever I want.”
“You have a stalker.” I take her hand in mine and hold on tight.
“I haven’t heard a peep out of them in more than a week. It was probably a random weirdo.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. Please just humor me and let me walk with you.”
“Fine.” She sighs as if she’s picking her battles, and we walk in silence for several minutes. “It’s quiet down here this early. I haven’t seen a soul.”
Something in her voice sounds…sad.
“Are you okay?”
“Sure. Why do you ask?”
“I don’t know, you just seem lost in thought.”
“Maybe I am.” She sighs again. “Today’s my mom’s birthday.”
“Oh? You should call and wish her a happy birthday.”
She shakes her head, looking out at the first ferry of the morning making its way across the Sound.
“I wouldn’t even know how to reach her. I don’t have her number.”
She glances up at me and then back out at the water.
“I could probably find it if you want.”
“Nope.” She leads us to a bench and sits, watching the ferry. “I don’t want it.”
“Why not?”
She glances at me again, her eyes searching my face.
“I haven’t spoken to her or anyone else in my family in more than fifteen years. I was never close to my mom, and it’s really okay. There are just moments, like on her birthday, that I wish it were different.”
“I wish it was different for you, too.” I lean over and kiss her temple. “I don’t know what I’d do without my family.”
“I have a family,” she insists. “I have Jax and Meredith. And my assistant, Rachel. There are people in my life that I love. Family doesn’t always come from blood.”
I love you.
I don’t say the words out loud. Instead, I smile at her.
“You’re right. I’ve learned that since our family has been absorbed by the Montgomerys. They’re a huge, close family, and not all of them are blood. In fact, I have a feeling Gail Montgomery would yank my ear off if I suggested otherwise.”
“Oh, she would,” Starla says with a laugh. “Gail is fiercely protective of her family. All of them. So, I have people in my life. I don’t need the ones I was born to.”
“I can see that.”
Just then, my phone rings in my pocket.
“It’s Joy.” I frown as I accept the call. “Hello.”
“Hey, favorite brother-in-law.”
“What do you want?” I ask with a chuckle.
“I need some help at the clinic. You’re handy. Jace is at work. Can you come help me?”
“Why don’t you call a professional?”
“Because I have a handy brother-in-law. Please?”
“Yeah, give me about an hour, and I’ll be there.”
“Great, thanks.”
She hangs up, and I look over at Starla. “Joy needs help.”
“I heard. I guess we should head back to the house.”
We stand, and I turn to the sidewalk just as Starla jumps onto my back.
“Carry me!”
“You said you wanted to take a walk.”
“My legs still hurt.”
“That was a week ago, sweetheart.”
“I don’t care. Just carry me.”
I laugh, hop a little to get her settled better on my back, and then set off to the house. It’s a good workout for me, and by the time we get there, I’m a sweaty, panting mess.
“Wow, I wasn’t going to make you carry me the whole way, but you were fast.”
“Good workout,” I reply as I set her down and take the steps three at a time, reaching the bedroom before her. “I wonder what Joy needs at the clinic?”
“I guess you’ll see soon enough.”
“We’ll both see. You’re coming with me.”
She smiles. “Yay! I love animals. Maybe she has puppies I can kiss on.”
“You can kiss on me.”
“You’re not a puppy. Take me to the puppies.”
“Hi, pretty lady.”
Starla glances around in surprise as we walk into Joy’s veterinary clinic. There’s no one else in the lobby.
I know who’s talking; it’s just fun to watch Starla try to figure it out.
Bill whistles a long catcall, making Starla laugh.
“What the heck?”
I point to the African grey parrot sitting on the file cabinet behind the desk.
“Hi, Bill,” I say.
“Fuck off,” Bill says but eyes Starla. “Pretty lady.”
“Well, hello, handsome bird,” Starla croons. “How are you?”
“Shitty day,” he says and shifts back and forth on his feet. “Shitty day.”
“Well, hopefully, it’ll get better,” Starla says as Joy comes walking out. “Your parrot is awesome.”
“Hey, guys. He has a bit of a potty mouth, but he’s a staple here now. Good boy, Bill. Come on back.”
We follow Joy through the doors to the area of the clinic that most people don’t get to see. Cages of all different sizes line one wall, most containing cats and dogs that Joy and the other vets are treating.
“I love animals,” Starla says with excitement. “Your job is so cool.”
“Thank you,” Joy says. “Come on into my office.”
“What do you need fixed?” I ask her.
“Oh, nothing.” She reaches into a bed and takes out the kitten she’s been nursing. “You haven’t checked on your kitten in a while. She misses you.”
“Wait. We’re getting a kitten ?”
Starla dances in place and reaches out for the baby, cradling it against her face.
I’m stuck on the we . We’re getting a kitten.
“I told Levi he needs to adopt her,” Joy says. “He needs something to love.”
“I have plenty of love,” I object, but Starla is already kissing and hugging the little feline.
“Oh, you’re the most precious cat to ever be born, aren’t you? Baby mine… ”
“She’s singing a lullaby,” I inform Joy, who just smirks at me. “You did this on purpose.”
“She needs a home,” Joy says. “And you’ll give her a good one. She’s the sweetest thing.”
“Yes, she is,” Starla says, kissing the baby’s cheek, then lets it nuzzle down against her neck. “Look, she’s already attached to me. I’m her mommy.”
“Christ.” I rub my eyes and then glare at Joy for the ambush.
“She can’t go home for another four weeks or so,” Joy says as she reaches out to pet the kitten. “She still has some growing to do.”
“She’s so sweet,” Starla says. “I’ll name her Felicity Mae.”
“Oh, what a precious name,” Joy says with a grin. “I’ll start calling her that now. Do you want to see some puppies?”
“YES!”
“No,” I say at the same time, shaking my head. “Hell, no. She’ll want one of those, too, and that’s a hard no. ”
“Why do you hate fun?” Starla demands, passing the sleeping kitten back to Joy. “I’m not taking one home, I’m just going to enjoy them for a minute. Don’t kill my thunder.”
“Come on,” Joy says, leading us out of the office and back to the main animal area. She opens a cage, and six lab puppies come lumbering out and straight to Starla, who just sits on the floor and opens her arms wide.
“Oh my goodness,” she breathes. She pulls two in for kisses, while the others climb over her and nibble on her jeans. “This is what heaven looks like. This is it.”
“They’re cute,” I concede, but narrow my eyes at Joy. “And I’m not taking any of them.”
“They’re all spoken for,” she says with a laugh. “But who doesn’t like playing with a whole herd of puppies?”
“I sure do,” Starla says with a laugh as she tumbles backwards, three puppies all trying to lick her face at the same time. “Oh, Lord, this is the best way to start the day. We should do this every day.”
“I’ll stick with coffee,” I say, but can’t help but laugh as the puppies continue playing with her. They are funny. “I hate to break up this lovefest, but I have to go to work.”
“Fine.” Starla sits up and sighs, but the puppies attack again, and she falls onto her back in a fit of giggles and sloppy puppy kisses. “Give me a minute.”
“I have to work tonight,” Starla says with a frown two days later. I just arrived at her house after work and brought Caesar salads with blackened chicken from Salty’s with me for dinner.
“What kind of work?” I take a bite of my salad and decide it needs more lemon, so I squirt some on top.
“Fan mail.” She swallows a piece of chicken and takes a drink of water. “I have so much of it piled up, and I’ll have another delivery next week. I need to get caught up.”
“People still send actual letters?”
“Some, yeah. Or cards. Gifts. It’s nice of them, and I want to read it myself, so my publicist’s office sends me a weekly box. If there’s not much to send, they’ll wait a week or two.”
“Interesting. Okay, I’ll help.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“It’ll be fun. Where are they?”
She shoves a big bite of salad into her mouth and walks to a spare bedroom, coming back with the biggest-sized flat rate mailing box in her arms. She sets it down on the floor between us and then sits in her chair, her feet pulled up under her.
“That’s them.”
“Okay, as we read, I suggest we make piles, sorting them out. We’ll do one for things you want to respond to, another for gifts, and a third for miscellaneous.”
“You’re ridiculously organized,” she says.
“You’re welcome.” I wink and reach for an envelope. There’s a card inside. “It says Just a note to make your day brighter. ” I flip it open and then snap it shut again.
“What is it?”
“A dick pic.” I throw the card on the floor outside of the box. “That’s the trash pile.”
“Okay, that’s funny.”
“Not funny.” I take a bite of chicken. “Let’s wait to look through the rest until after I’m done eating. Just in case.”
“Good idea.” She eyes the card on the floor. “Was it at least a good dick pic?”
“Does that exist?”
“I mean, if you were to send me one, it would be a good one.”
“It’s not my dick, and I won’t ever be sending you a photo of it. You can just see it in real life.”
She’s giggling now, holding her sides with the hilarity of it all.
“I don’t understand the dick pic. Do men really think we want to see that? Are y’all so proud of what God gave you that you can’t help yourselves from showing it off? Because I have to tell you, as a female, we do not want photos of your penis. I enjoy your penis, and I still don’t want a keepsake photo of it. Dicks aren’t the most attractive part of the male anatomy.”
“I’m uncomfortable with this conversation.” I shift in my seat and frown at my salad. “I don’t send pictures of myself naked.”
“Oh, men don’t even have to be naked to send them. All they do is just whip them out and snap a photo. It’s disgusting.”
“How often do you receive them?”
“Daily.”
I choke on my lettuce and have to take a drink of water. “ Daily ?”
“Oh, yeah. It’s a common occurrence. And I’d bet women who aren’t famous get them on the regular, too. Men are just…proud. And it’s baffling.”
“I can’t say that I know anyone who does that.” I shake my head as Starla shoves her empty salad aside and wipes her mouth.
“Okay, let’s get this over with.”
She pulls out a letter and reads it, then smiles as she tucks it back into the envelope and sets it aside. “This is the keep pile.”
“What did it say?”
“It was from a young girl who said she enjoys my songs. She was very sweet. Those are my favorites. They just sound so innocent.”
We both reach for more mail, and over the next half hour, we read a wide array of messages, everything from the usual you’re my favorite artist to a marriage proposal that joined the trash pile.
“Come on, he was handsome,” Starla says, laughing her ass off.
“I’m so glad you’re finding the humor in this.”
“I had no idea that proposals and dick pics from strangers would make you so jealous.”
“ Six dick pics,” I remind her. “In this box alone. What the fuck is wrong with people?”
“Proud,” she says again. “So damn proud.”
“I guess.” I reach for a bigger envelope and pull out a typed letter and a picture. Starla’s reading something else, and I don’t alert her to what’s in my hands.
Not yet.
The photo is of the two of us at the restaurant, sitting in the booth, before the rude waitress approached.
The image has been altered to look like we’ve both had our necks slashed, with blood coming out of our mouths, dripping onto the table.
I set it face-down on the table and read the letter.
Dear cunt,
God, I fucking hate you. Look at you, just out there living your life as if you shouldn’t feel guilty for anything. As if you’re innocent.
We both know you’re not innocent, you stupid bitch.
And I’m going to make you pay.
Looks like you have someone who means something to you now. I’ll make him pay, too. Before I kill you slowly. I’ll torture him, right in front of your eyes so you can feel what I felt. It’s all your fault.
Soon.
Rage. Blinding, boiling rage is all I feel as I set the letter face-down over the photo and take a long, deep breath.
“Levi?”
“Give me a minute. Don’t touch this.”
I stand and walk to the back door, staring through the glass to the pool in the back yard. I need a second to reel in my emotions. I want to kill whoever sent this. I want five minutes alone with them so I can tear them limb from limb.
“Levi, talk to me.”
I turn to find her standing behind me, wringing her hands at her waist.
“You need to read this.”
I walk back to the table and retrieve the letter. Starla takes it from me, and her eyes scan the page, getting wider the longer she reads.
“My God.” She covers her mouth and reads it again. “What the hell?”
“There’s a photo.”
She looks up at me as a tear falls from the corner of her eye.
“Let me see.”
I want to say no. I want to shield her from this bullshit. But she needs to see it, so I pass it to her.
With one glance, she drops it to the floor and runs for the bathroom, heaving into the toilet.
I hurry after her and rub her back, then wet a washrag with cold water and press it to the back of her neck.
“Easy, baby.”
“I don’t understand,” she murmurs, reaching for the rag and wiping it over her face, her mouth. “What in the hell is happening?”
“Clearly, someone is pissed at you.”
I take the rag from her and rinse it, then wipe it over her forehead, her cheeks. When she’s calmed down, we walk back to the table. I retrieve the letter and photo and set them face-down on the surface again.
“It’s not nothing,” I say.
“No.” She swallows. “It’s not.”
“I’ll take this to the station tonight. But first, I want to ask you, have you wronged anyone so horribly that they could want to hurt you?”
She frowns at me. “Of course, not. I haven’t fired anyone. I haven’t done anything. I have no idea what this is about.”
“I didn’t think so, but I had to ask. Also, this is a good time to address your security team. Or the lack thereof.”
“What about them?”
“I wasn’t impressed after the show a couple months ago. They let too many people touch you.”
“They do a fine job.”
“They’re not here now.”
She scowls. “Of course, not. I’m not working, remember? I don’t want them with me for the day-to-day.”
“Not even now?”
“You have a car parked outside my house twenty-four-seven. That’s plenty.”
I sigh and rub my hand down my face. “Here’s the thing, Starla. I’m not convinced it’s plenty. Not after this. So, for the foreseeable future, you won’t ever be alone. If I can’t be with you, Jax or Meredith will be.”
“I’m a prisoner.”
“You’re a person we all care about, and we’re going to take care of you,” I counter. “I’m going to find out who this sick bastard is, and we’ll put an end to this. But in the meantime, you’re not alone. That’s non-negotiable.”
“Fine.”
“And I’m moving in here.”
She cocks a brow. “Gee, you’re so romantic.”
“This isn’t how I intended to tell you we’re moving in together, but it is what it is.”
She blinks rapidly. “You mean you were going to ask me?”
“No, that’s not what I meant.” I take her hand and kiss her thumb. “Besides, we’ve already adopted a kitten. Did you think we’d be sharing custody?”
A slow smile spreads over her gorgeous face. “How sweet. We’re fur-parents.”
“Funny. Never alone, you understand?”
“Yes, sir.” Her mouth is sassy, but she climbs into my lap and lays her head on my shoulder. “Why do people suck?”
“That’s the question of the year.”