Chapter 15
To Do:
- Burn Luke’s house down
- Screen new applicants
“Un-fucking-believable.”Claire stared at herself in the dingy airport bathroom mirror. A man spoke over the loudspeaker in French. She tossed the bandage saturated with river water into the trashcan and inspected her wound. It didn’t look infected, at least. Which was good, because her first aid kit was back at the hotel with the lying, selfish, soul-sucking demon. A small bottle of rubbing alcohol and box of bandages from the airport drug store sat on the counter next to her.
She pulled paper towels out of the dispenser and splashed the alcohol onto them. She pressed the mass to her skin.
“Mother fu—” It might as well have been a poultice made out of murder hornets. A woman came out of one of the stalls and shot a panicked look at Claire, leaving without even washing her hands. Great, now she was scaring people away from practicing basic hygiene.
How had it come to this? A few weeks ago, she was on top of the world. She had pulled off the biggest proposal of her career and had a blossoming new romance with a sexy filmmaker. Today she was sitting alone in a dirty airport bathroom waiting six more hours to board her flight back to the United States. Betrayed by the first man she had opened her heart to after Jason had cheated on her. Kidnapped and stabbed by a client. And now, stalked by a new, faceless enemy.
What had she done to deserve this vicious retaliation from the universe? Her entire job revolved around making people happy. She rescued animals, donated to charities. Sure, she had had some unkind thoughts about people in the past—Wendy and Jason in particular. But why was she being punished?
And why wasn’t Luke being punished? He had openly admitted to wanting to exploit her for his new project. Maybe she should sue him so she could afford to pay for Wendy’s lawsuit. Surely a judge would be sympathetic to a betrayal of this magnitude. One thing was for sure, though. Luke Islestorm was dead to her.
Claire was startled out of her reverie by the sudden vibration of her phone. Alice was calling. She answered the video call and propped the phone on the sink while she peeled open a new bandage. Hopefully, the airport Wi-Fi would be enough to hold the conversation. She could really use some sage wisdom from her mom.
“Hey, Mom. Did I tell you I’m in Paris?” Claire said sheepishly.
Alice sniffled. Claire glanced at the screen. Her eyes and nose were red. Uh-oh. This was not good.
“What’s wrong?” She slapped a new bandage on and picked up the phone.
Alice took a deep breath, then sighed. “Claire. Why didn’t you tell me what happened?”
“What do you mean?”
“About the break-in and the note.” Alice ticked them off on her fingers like she had a long-running list of grievances against her. She turned her watery blue eyes back to the camera. “I had to find out from your sister that you’re in mortal peril. Again. And that you fled the country. You didn’t think your own mother should be aware?”
Dammit, Charlie. Her stomach sank like a bag of bricks. “I’m really sorry, Mom. I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to worry you. We don’t know that it was anything sinister. It could have just been a bored teenager who lives in my building.”
There weren’t any teenagers in Claire’s building as far as she knew, but Alice didn’t need to know that.
“Wouldn’t you have wanted to know if something like this happened to me?” Alice asked quietly. “Wouldn’t you be furious if I didn’t tell you and you had to find out from someone else?” She took a deep breath, like she was preparing to drop a bombshell. “I’m disappointed in you, Claire.”
The words were like getting slapped in the face with a hand covered in tacky costume jewelry. Claire’s mouth fell open, and she gaped at her phone like a goldfish. Alice had been her personal cheerleader for her entire life. Not once had her mother ever said those words to her. Not when she got a B on a term paper, not when she punched a girl in the mouth for bullying her friend in kindergarten. Claire’s penchant for withholding information in order to protect her mother had dramatically backfired. Shame crept in, hot and suffocating.
“I—I’m sorry. You’re right. I should have told you.”
“I hope you get home safely,” Alice said coolly. “I expect you to tell me if anything else happens. Good night, Claire.” She hung up before Claire could respond.
Claire collapsed with her back to a stall. She slid down it until she was puddled on the floor. She buried her face in her hands.
Disappointed. The word still stung. Her eyes filled with tears, but she blinked them back. Just when she thought things couldn’t possibly get worse. Now she had pissed off Alice, the only person on the planet who was supposed to love her unconditionally. Was this even deeper than rock bottom? Because it sure felt like it.
She hadn’t told her mother about the Paris flowers. To be fair, Alice hadn’t really given her a chance to tell her. But she should probably send a text to the group message just in case. She stared at the empty message bubble.
Claire: Hi, I’m coming home from Paris early. Luke and I broke up and also I got more creepy stalker flowers. Hope the weather’s nice at home.
She started to erase the message, then sent it anyway. Messages full of exclamations from Charlie poured in. Alice’s contact showed three blinking dots, but then they disappeared. Her own mother was so disappointed in her that she couldn’t even react to a personal safety crisis.
Claire took a deep breath and got to her feet. She tucked her phone back in her carry-on and surveyed the bathroom for any items she left behind. Seeing nothing, she squared her shoulders and strolled back out into the airport. There was no choice but to move on.
“I just haveone stop before home.” Claire rattled off Nicole’s address to the cab driver.She had taken over Rosie-watching duty for the day while Mindy went camping with Gavin.
Claire ran a hand over her neck. All the tension in the world seemed to have settled on her during the transatlantic flight.
The driver nodded wordlessly and put on his turn signal, pulling out of the airport.
She texted Nicole. She was definitely going to be surprised when she showed up a full twelve hours early—and without Luke. Claire leaned back in her seat. A sparrow flitted past her window.
Luke’s betrayal burned like a bee sting. Her cheeks were dry and tight where her tears had dried over the Atlantic.She had oscillated between pissed off and humiliated a dozen times during the trip.
She had felt so full and so safe just twenty-four hours ago.How had her life become such a mess? Again?
Nicole: Everything okay?
Claire: Yeah, just caught an earlier flight.
Nicole: Good. Can’t wait to hear about Paris :)
Her phone pinged with a series of texts from Luke, but she couldn’t bring herself to open any of them. Nothing he had to say was going to be worth her time.
When Claire pulled up in front of Nicole and Kyle’s apartment, the steps seemed as insurmountable as Mount Everest. But her furry best friend was waiting for her. “Keep it together, Claire,” she muttered to herself, then told the driver, “I’ll be just a second.”
He nodded and pulled a folded newspaper off the passenger seat, meter still running.
Claire knocked on the door, more than ready for her fur baby to leap into her arms.
“Hey, Coli—oh!” she exclaimed when Nicole opened the door and she saw their kitchen. Candles were arranged on the table, and a bottle of champagne was chilling.
Nicole was wearing a red mini dress, and her hair was carefully gathered into an elaborate knot. Kyle, who had a spatula in his hand, was dressed in a sports coat but wasn’t wearing any pants. The apartment smelled like marinara sauce and excess garlic.
A sudden realization dawned on Claire. “Oh crap, it’s the second, isn’t it? Your dating anniversary! I’m so sorry for intruding.”
Nicole smiled. “Stop it. You’re the reason why we started dating. It would be weird if you weren’t here. Oh, maybe you should tell that story for your maid of honor speech.”
“Please. It’s already in there.” She had written the six-page document the day after Nicole and Kyle’s engagement.
A streak of fur came sprinting out of the bathroom, part of a roll of toilet paper dangling from her mouth.
“Roro!” Claire dropped to her knees. Rosie launched herself at Claire like a shedding, ginger missile. She licked Claire’s face furiously, and Claire hugged her tightly. Rosie was the only living creature who could never disappoint her—no matter how many shoes she ate.
“I? see you weren’t being a good girl.” She laughed and tugged the toilet paper roll out of the dog’s mouth.
“Don’t worry about it. She was great,” Kyle said. “Only tried to knock the garbage can over seven or eight times.”
Claire laughed in spite of herself. “We’re working on that, but she’s been resistant to the training. Thank you so much for watching her. I’ll get out of your hair—the meter’s running.” She leaned over and picked up Rosie’s overnight bag.
“The meter?” Nicole paused as she tied an apron around her waist. “You took a cab? Was something wrong with Luke’s car?”
Claire straightened and gripped Rosie’s leash. “It’s no big deal, we can talk about it later.”
“Are you sure? There’s something you’re not telling me.” Nicole came closer and grabbed Claire’s hand. Her brown eyes probed Claire’s.
She should have known. Nicole was like a drama-sniffing bloodhound. “Everything’s fine. We’ll talk tomorrow. Enjoy your dinner. It smells amazing. And thanks again for watching this little terror,” she said, leaning in and giving Nicole a hug. There was no way she was ruining their romantic night with her stupid boy problems.
Get it together, Claire. She sniffed loudly, choking back the tears that were threatening to leak out.
“Wait. You’re not going home alone, are you? It’s not safe, Claire,” Nicole said, squeezing her hand.
“The note was a dumb prank. Barney’s in prison, and he has no friends because he’s a psychopath.”
“I don’t think you should?—”
“Trust me, it’s fine,” she said firmly, snapping Rosie’s leash on. “But don’t tell Mindy, please. You know how she gets. She only just stopped sleeping on a cot in front of my door.”
“Fine. Call me if you need anything. And I mean anything. Love you,” Nicole said, giving Claire another squeeze.
Claire climbed into the cab with Rosie, bolstered by the presence of her furry companion.
“Where to, miss?”
She relayed her home address and sent a quick email to Mindy to let her know that she was home early and would be available for a meeting tomorrow to talk about screening their new applicants.
As they rounded the corner of Claire’s street, dozens of cars and news vans came into view. They surrounded the apartment building like an encroaching battalion. An icy fist gripped her throat, and she could barely choke out the words, “Just drive. Keep going. Anywhere but here.”
The mustachioed cab driver glanced at her in the rearview mirror but obliged.
The reporters perked up when they saw the cab going past the building, and six or seven people rushed into the street with cameras, peeking into the window.
“It’s her!” Claire heard a muffled voice say. “Miss Hartley, are the rumors true? Have you received contact from a Widowmaker copycat?”
What the shit? Who the hell had told them? Only her family, close friends, and the police knew about the note. They would rather stand in the Black Friday line outside Target in subzero temperatures for a week than betray her. So, who was it? Could there be a mole in the police station? Or did Luke leak the information after their fight?
She hid her face in Rosie’s fur, blocking out the press’s frantic shouts.
“Jesus,” the cab driver said, inching along as reporters practically scrambled on top of the car, shutters clicking from every direction.
She glanced behind her as they rounded the corner of the street. Several reporters climbed into their news vans, camera crew winding up their cables as quick as they could.
They hit a red light, and the invisible fist around Claire’s stomach tightened.
“Where do you want me to go? Where will you be safe?” The cab driver said, speaking in complete sentences for the first time. He wrapped his arm around the passenger’s head rest and glanced over his shoulder at her.
Claire paused, Mindy’s address on the tip of her tongue. But she and Gavin had gone glamping overnight and wouldn’t have cell service.
“Let me call someone,” she said, bringing up her phone. She would rather set herself on fire than go to Luke’s. Nicole and Kyle were celebrating. Who was left?
She scrolled aimlessly through her contacts. If she wasn’t safe in her own apartment, she probably wouldn’t be safe by herself in a hotel. She had no one, and reporters could be at her warehouse, too, for all she knew.
Her thumb paused over Sawyer-Sanctum in her contact list. He was almost certainly tired of rescuing her. But he might be her last hope.
“They’re getting out of their cars. They’re crazy,” the cab driver said.
Claire glanced behind her. A reporter from Channel Eight News and another man hoisting an expensive-looking camera climbed out of a van several car lengths behind them.
She clicked on Sawyer’s contact. The phone rang twice.
“Hey, I? need your help.”