Chapter 31 #2
I left the living room and passed into a bedroom. The view out over the city was mesmerizing. But somewhere out there, my pursuer was plotting to get to me, to attack again. I’d become his obsession.
Since realizing I’d seen the Strangler’s face, I’d been scared of everything and everyone.
Especially after what happened to Olivia, I’d been unwilling to make attachments, consigning myself to be forever on the run and alone.
Zane’s strength finally gave me the confidence to believe I could beat the monster and help lock him away in the cage he deserved.
I would be strong enough to face the danger. It wouldn’t bring Cassie back, or any of the others, but it had to be done. It was a responsibility I couldn’t shirk.
The size of the bathroom, when I found it, floored me.
Why did a hotel room have a bathroom half the size of a basketball court?
It had two walk-in showers, each with four spray heads, a sauna, two Jacuzzi tubs, and—yes, I counted—four sinks and two makeup tables.
Naturally, all the fixtures were gold-plated.
Yates wandered in. “What do you think?”
“It’s marvelous.” I spun around, my arms wide. “But over the top, don’t you think?”
“I agree, but it’s meant to appeal to a customer with an ego that wouldn’t fit in a smaller space.”
I nodded. “Marketing to sheikhs and sultans?”
“Politicians, CEOs, anyone with the compulsion to have the very best.”
“When they said safe house, I was picturing some basement somewhere, like in the movies. Not…” I gestured. “This is too much.”
“But it’s safe.”
It struck me that it was ridiculous for Lucas to pay for a place like this to protect me instead of some concrete basement bunker.
“Lucas shouldn’t be running up a bill like this. It would make more sense to be at a Motel Six somewhere.”
“It’s cheaper than a Motel Six,” Yates said matter-of-factly. “It’s on the house.”
“I don’t believe that for a minute.”
“Believe it. I’m the owner.”
Amazingly, he seemed neither ashamed to admit that, nor proud.
I’d heard he was rich, but the magnitude of his wealth only now came into focus.
“Lucas said your safety is our top priority, along with catching the… the…”
“Boyfriend Strangler,” I finished for him.
“And now that I’m joining forces with Hawk, as it were, it’s the least I can do.”
It wasn’t enough, but I moved to him quickly and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you.” Then, I went to investigate the remainder of the penthouse.
The unit had a full kitchen in case the presidents or sheikhs or whoever didn’t want to eat downstairs at the restaurant with all the common folk. Why there were four bedrooms, I had no idea. They and their attached baths were of course massive and ornate.
Despite all the opulence, this was still a prison, meant as much to keep me in as to keep the monster out.
I leaned against the window in the great room and touched my nose to the glass.
“Where are you, you asshole? You’re going down.
It’s time to end this.” I figured those were the kind of words Zane would use.
I pushed away from the glass when a familiar voice called, “Peyton?”
Rushing to the door, I found my boss, Grace Brennan, and Duke’s fiancée, Serena Benson, with grocery bags in hand.
“We heard what happened,” Grace said, wrapping me in a quick hug. “How are you holding up?”
Of course Duke and Terry had spilled the details to their women.
Grace certainly understood my stress after having been caught in a tug-of-war between two different organized crime families because of her stupid cousin.
“I’m fine,” I lied.
“It’s got to be hard,” Serena said as she took her turn hugging me. “I know my ordeal was tough, but I didn’t have a serial killer after me.” She worked at the EPA, and both mobsters and sex traffickers had been after her during her ordeal.
I nodded. “Yeah, but I’ve decided to stop running and face him—with Zane and the rest of Hawk behind me, of course.”
“They’re the best,” Serena said. “Trust them and do what they say. I learned to regret it when I didn’t.”
“I will,” I agreed.
Serena lifted her grocery bag. “We’re here to support you with some cooking therapy.”
“You guys didn’t have to.” For the first time since I left Boston, I had friends to support me who knew my situation, and it felt good.
“Nonsense, we want to,” Grace said. “There’s nothing like baking and cooking to take your mind off the bad things, my grams used to say.”
“Wow,” Serena exclaimed, walking to the window. “What a view!”
The wind had blown the smog out, and the city lay like a carpet in front of us, all the way to the blue of the ocean.
“Oh,” Grace scoffed. “You’re such a pretender. Your dad’s a billionaire. You must have been in places like this before. I’ve never been higher than the fourth floor.”
Serena turned. “Hey. I work for a living. Mom and Dad’s place has a few acres, but it’s only a two-story house. Bill and Lauren Covington? Now their penthouse is nice, but not as high up as this.”
“Where’s the kitchen?” Grace asked.
I led the way.
“Now,” Grace said, drawing out the word. “Tell us about Zane.”
Old me would have been coy about him, but with my new determination to face things head-on, I got straight to the truth. “I think I’m falling for him.”
“Think?” Serena prodded.
Multiple images of Zane from the last month scrolled through my head—pretending not to watch me from across the office, fighting for me—and every one of them made me smile. “Okay, already. I’ve fallen for him. He doesn’t like to show it, but he’s a really good guy.”
“Of course he’s a good guy,” Serena agreed. “He’s a SEAL, and they’re the best. Duke says he’d trust Zane with his life.”
“Hey now,” Grace complained. “Marine Scout Snipers are just as good.”
“Almost as good,” Serena countered.
I stopped the argument with an admission. “He said I was his. I mean, with those exact words.”
“Ah,” Serena sighed. “The SEAL has claimed his woman.” She got a dreamy, faraway look in her eyes. “I remember the day Duke claimed me. Best day of my life…until he proposed, of course.
“Yeah,” Grace mumbled. “I remember the day Terry said that too.”
Serena sighed once more, and then pulled herself together. “How do you feel about starting with blueberry scones?”
After the scones, we baked corn bread, an odd choice, but it was what Grace wanted.
Serena said all of Hawk was coming here for dinner and a planning meeting. She and Grace decided chicken tikka masala and chicken piccata would be the entrees. Two entrees struck me as odd, but Serena was adamant that giving them a choice was the best way to go.
I decided it was her way of keeping me busy with cooking therapy. They’d brought all the ingredients, from lemons for the piccata to garam masala for the Indian dish.
As we baked and then cooked, the banter with the girls was just the stress relief I needed. When we’d finally finished with the entrees, salads, pasta, and rice, I’d relaxed and put the day’s horrible events behind me.