15. Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Fifteen
DYLAN
I poured myself a cup of coffee and leaned back against my kitchen counter, waiting on Hattie. Though she’d only been here for a couple of days, we’d already fallen into a routine. For the last three nights, we’d eaten while we chatted and then moved into the living room to watch a true crime documentary. For someone who claimed she didn’t like that type of show, she was as enthusiastic as I was about figuring out the mystery.
I checked my watch, wondering if I could predict the exact time she’d appear. I appreciated routines, although I never could obtain that with Becca. We had lived together for almost a year, yet I never could get a handle on what to expect and when. She swung from sweet to passive aggressive quickly, making it impossible to keep up with or anticipate her moods. Yet it had taken only a few days to figure Hattie out.
Until now.
When she appeared, still in her tiny sleep shorts and an oversized sweatshirt, unease settled in my gut.
“Why aren’t you ready?”
She looked down, her face expressionless. That look only made the disquiet inside me more acute. Had she not realized that she was still in her pajamas? I didn’t think that was plausible. Sure, she was a bit unaware at times, but not in a chaotic sort of way.
The desire to snatch the phone out of her hand and demand she tell me what was wrong pulsed violently in my chest. She’d done the same thing for three mornings in a row. She’d get up, take a shower, get dressed, and then come down for coffee before going back up to do her hair and makeup. Yet today, she’d completely deviated from that routine.
Maybe I’d been wrong about her. Maybe Hattie really was unpredictable like Becca.
She looked up at me, her expression a mix of confusion and fear. “I thought…I mean…How…”
I set my coffee on the counter and closed the space between us. “What’s wrong?”
She blew out a shaky breath. “He texted me.”
“Who?”
“The stalker.” She tucked her chin to her chest and studied her phone, then looked back up at me again.
A wave of relief rushed through me. This was exactly what I had been hoping for. He knew she’d blocked him, or at least assumed it. That meant he was watching her closely.
“That’s good.”
“Good?” Her eyes widened. “I don’t understand. How is that a good thing? Didn’t you block him?”
I nodded. “I blocked the original number. If he sent you another text, that means he bought a new burner.”
Gently, I pried the phone from her hand. I needed to get this new number over to Aiden. Hopefully the burner phone had been purchased at the same gas station and we could get the surveillance recording.
“You and I obviously have different understandings of what good means.” She sounded defeated, and her whole body sagged as she sat on one of the stools at the island.
I read the text he’d sent, cursing under my breath. Damn, no wonder she was so upset.
He’ll never have you. You are mine. Soon, you’ll see that.
Although that message was not ideal, it did mean that my plan was working. Word that Hattie and I were dating had gotten around. Now we were aware that the stalker knew it too.
“I’m staying home today,” she said, gaze focused on the granite in front of her.
“I don’t think?—”
She lifted her head and hit me with a pleading look so pitiful I knew I’d give her anything she asked for in that moment. I stepped in close and gripped her shoulder. At the mix of dejection and fear in her expression, I pulled her up and into my chest. “Okay. I’ll let Aiden know that I won’t be in.”
“You don’t have to?—”
“If you’re about to suggest I leave you here by yourself today?—”
“Right. No. That’s probably not a good idea either.”
My stomach twisted painfully. “It’s fine, Hattie. I can work from home.”
“You sure?”
Was I sure? Mostly. Regardless, I’d say what I needed to in order to convince her that it was fine. If staying home today would make her feel better, then that was what we’d do.
“Yeah. I can even find another true crime documentary to bore you with if you want.” I sent her a wink.
For the first time since stepping into the kitchen five minutes ago, she cracked a smile. “Or…I can introduce you to the world of The Kardashians .”
I cringed at the tortuous idea but responded with, “Sure.”
Whatever it took to make her smile and forget about the stalker who’d just threatened her.
HATTIE
I had to give Dylan credit. He made it through one whole episode of The Kardashians . I half expected him to get up and leave the room within minutes, but not only did he stick out the entire episode, I even caught him chuckling a couple of times.
Fresh bowl of popcorn in hand, I shuffled back to the living room. “That wasn’t too bad, was it?” I sat on the sofa across from him.
One corner of his mouth lifted into a smirk. “Depends on what your definition of bad is.”
Amusement threaded through me. “Come on, admit it. You laughed.”
“Yeah, the way you would laugh at someone who trips and falls.” He shrugged and went back to working on his computer.
I picked up the remote to play another episode and popped a kernel of popcorn into my mouth.
“Where did you find the popcorn?” His brows pulled together.
Frowning, I assessed him. “In your cabinet…”
“Interesting.”
Interesting? Wasn’t that where most people kept their popcorn? In their cabinets or pantries? “Huh?”
“I don’t buy popcorn anymore.”
Confused, I tilted my head, working through that strange choice of words. Anymore would imply he used to.
“Becca, my ex, liked it.”
This was the first time he’d mentioned his ex to me, and now I was curious. She’d come to Ashley and Jackson’s wedding with Dylan last year. She was beautiful, with long red hair. I had thought they made a cute couple.
“Do you want some?” I asked, extending the bowl across the coffee table toward him.
“No.” He put his hand up. “I’m good.”
“You don’t like popcorn?”
He chuckled, focus cast on his computer again. “Who doesn’t like popcorn?”
“I went out with a guy once—to a movie—and he gave me a solid five-minute lecture before the previews started about how bad the popcorn I was eating was. He went on and on about the butter and salt and sodium. Then he turned on my Cherry Coke and gummy bears.” I obviously didn’t have a second date with him. I live to eat, I don’t eat to live, and I had no interest in being judged for that. “But now that I say that, I understand why you don’t want popcorn.”
His head snapped up. “What does that mean?”
“Look at you. There isn’t an ounce of fat on your body as far as I can see, so it’s safe to assume you have a pretty strict diet.”
He shrugged. “Nah. I try to stick to healthy food, but I prefer salty foods over sweet. So chips and popcorn are my go-to snacks rather than ice cream and candy. I don’t really do fast food, though.”
With that, he turned his attention back to his work, so I pushed play. I tried to focus on the conversation between Kim and Kourtney, but quickly, my curiosity got the better of me. I pressed pause and shifted to look at him again.
“So what happened?”
He peered at me over his computer and cocked his head to the side. “What happened with what?”
“Becca.” What else would I be talking about?
Sighing, he leaned forward and set his laptop on the coffee table.
Guilt flashed through me. “I’m sorry. I know you’re trying to work. I’ll stop talking.”
“It’s fine.” He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Probably should break for lunch soon anyway.”
“Lunch?” I glanced over at the time displayed on the smart speaker that sat on top of the fireplace mantel. “It’s only eleven o’clock.”
“You don’t eat breakfast, so I guess I assumed that you liked to eat lunch early.”
“I have popcorn.” I held up the bowl. “But yeah, typically, I eat lunch before noon because I’m not a big breakfast person.”
“I’ve noticed.” He smirked.
The way Dylan noticed every detail warmed my stomach. I doubted my siblings even realized that I wasn’t a fan of breakfast, yet Dylan did after five days. It was hard to imagine that someone who paid that much attention to detail struggled with a relationship.
“So what happened with Becca?”
Lips pressed together, he sat back. “She struggled to accept my job.”
From the defeat in his tone, there was more to it than that. What he just said was akin to we parted ways amicably .
“Like the danger? Was she afraid that something might happen to you?”
He tensed, his expression shuttering. “I’m not really sure.”
A niggle of guilt itched at the back of my brain. Crap. I was a jerk for bringing up his ex.
“A lot of it was the unpredictability of my schedule. It was a problem before we moved in together, and I thought living in the same place would help. Instead, it kind of made things worse.”
“How?” I set the bowl of popcorn on the table and leaned forward, my hands clasped in my lap.
“She felt like I was never there for her when she wanted me to be. Then, when she felt like I’d let her down, she would spend days or even weeks mad at me about it.”
I frowned. That sounded toxic.
“No matter what I did, it wasn’t enough, and eventually, I stopped trying. It took a long time to realize how unhealthy our relationship had gotten. But once I did, I ended it.”
I nodded, although I couldn’t relate. The last semiserious relationship I’d been in was during college over five years ago, and that had just fizzled out. It wasn’t toxic or dramatic, but it wasn’t passionate either.
“Are we starting another one?” He nodded at the TV. “Or breaking for lunch?”
I glanced down at the bowl of popcorn. “Let’s watch one more before we eat.”
With a cleansing breath, I pressed play.
A minute later, I felt his eyes still on me, but when I looked back over, he was focused on his computer screen once again.