Chapter Eleven
Aubrey
Bree plopped into Noah’s car and buckled up mechanically, her mind focused on the conversation she and Noah had up in the hospital room. She couldn’t shake the guilt that dogged her steps whenever she considered that it might be easier to let her sister go than to live in this tension of waiting for something that may never happen. It was tearing her family apart.
Noah frowned. “How are you?” He asked, turning his attention off her and toward the road as he pulled away from the hospital.
“Okay,” Bree said, looking out the window as the businesses rolled by, melancholy taking over and settling deep in her chest. A determined look crossed Noah’s face as he moved over into the right lane quickly. He turned onto Fifth Street as Bree furrowed her brow in confusion. They were supposed to be heading to the studio in Nashville and the freeway wasn’t this way. Noah drove a few more blocks before he pulled into a parking spot in front of a cute white brick building with black shutters and wooden window boxes full of colorful flowers. Bree’s eyebrows rose, and a giant grin took over her face.
“We’re getting coffee?!?” She asked.
“We are. I noticed your hands were empty this morning.” Noah teased.
Bree bounced excitedly while waiting for Noah to open her door before she bounded toward the coffee shop, Noah trailing dutifully behind her. He held the door open and placed his hand on her lower back as she walked into the coffee shop. The warmth from his hand flooded through her, and she missed it when he pulled away.
The line was thankfully short this morning, and they had fresh cups of coffee and croissants in hand and were back in the car in no time. Noah clicked on the country radio station, and Bree felt her mood lighten as they left Trenton in the rearview. She sipped her coffee while singing along to the King of Country—Mr. George Strait—and felt as though her joy just might be contagious if the look on Noah’s face was any indication.
They pulled into the station a few hours later, and Bree turned to look at Noah. “Thanks for the coffee and jam session. I didn’t realize how much I needed that.” She reached out and squeezed his hand warmly.
Noah’s voice deepened as his hand squeezed hers gently. “Any time, Bree.”
He looked around the parking lot, apparently looking for anyone who might be hiding in the shadows, but it looked pretty normal to Bree. There was a news van in the parking lot and several other employee cars. Nothing out of the ordinary for a work day. Once he was certain no one was lurking, Noah got out of the car and opened Bree’s door, offering his hand to help her out of the car.
He held onto her hand a split second longer than necessary, causing butterflies to erupt as their fingers gently twined together. Bree reveled in the warmth of his hand in hers. Noah squeezed her hand gently before dropping it to escort her across the parking lot. His eyes were roving constantly to make sure there was no trouble. When they reached the entrance, Noah opened the door for her, inclining his head to indicate she should go first. Bree nodded her thanks and walked in, immediately wishing she could step back outside into the brief, quiet moment where Noah’s hand was in hers.
Instead, she was immediately surrounded by people in her space—touching her, talking to her, and just being too close, though she knew they were just doing their jobs.
“I think her hair should be in a plait—” One of the stylists said.
“She’s not a teenager in a YA novel. Her hair doesn’t need to be in a plait.” One of the other stylists argued.
Another set of hands was pulling at her current wardrobe selection and making tsking sounds to voice their disapproval. “You cannot wear that. I won’t stand for it. Maddie! Grab an outfit—something that screams summer with class.”
A young woman nodded and practically ran down the hall to the dressing room. She didn’t miss this. At all. As the voices got louder around her, she started to feel as though she was being caged in, and panic threatened to overwhelm her. Her breath started coming in quicker, and it felt like the walls were beginning to move in. She couldn’t breathe.
Mumbled complaints broke up the steady stream of voices around her as a warm body shoved through the crowd and came to a stop next to her. She looked up at Noah in surprise, gratitude filling her. His eyes met hers and softened as he rested his hand on her hip, gently using his body to effectively create and maintain space around them. “You okay?” He asked, his voice rough.
Bree nodded, though she honestly wasn’t sure. She just wanted to go home. He seemed to be able to read that on her face and grimaced. He used his shoulders to clear a path and led her down the hall to the room where she would get ready. Once she sat down in the white chair, Noah stepped back into the corner, and she was once again surrounded by people doing the flight of the bumble bee. She smiled and nodded as people chatted around her, messing with her hair and makeup and giving her last-minute talking points, but her eyes were fixed on Noah, who held her gaze with a quiet determination that gave her the strength to sit there. He’d get her out if she said the word. She knew he would.
“Alright, you’re ready. Let’s go.” The public relations lady said when she finished talking through what Bree should say—though Bree”d honestly forgotten ninety percent of it already. She gave one final look to Noah, who gave her an encouraging nod. He would be there. She was safe. With that in mind, she let them lead her down the hall to the final interview of her career.
***
“And, last but definitely not least, tell us about this upcoming gala that you’ll be speaking at.” The reporter said, leaning in toward Bree as though she were actually interested in what Bree had to say. Though with the number of times Bree’d been interrupted in the last hour, she didn’t think the reporter actually cared.
“Thanks for asking—I”d love to talk about that! The Gala will be held at The Trenton Center for the Arts on a Friday evening in November—the day after Thanksgiving. There will be a lot of celebrities and other notable individuals attending and tickets are available to the general public as well. The building and grounds have been secured for the venue and will be closed that night to the general public, so buying a ticket is a must if you plan to attend.
We are raising money for families struggling with a loved one’s addiction, and that will primarily take the form of a silent auction. General donations can be made to the organization as well. I’ll be there, and I hope you will be too.” Bree said, issuing the invitation to viewers, a genuine smile on her face for the first time. Hopefully getting word out would increase attendance, and thus the revenue, at the event.
They wrapped up and made the requisite small talk while Bree counted down the seconds until she could walk out of this room and get back to Noah. She’d missed him the last few days. She hated the publicity that came along with celebrity life, but if it meant seeing Noah more often, maybe she’d consider taking more endorsement deals or interviews. She shook her head. That was ridiculous. She was an adult, not some lovestruck teenager trying to create an excuse for her crush to walk her to class.
Finally, the news crew indicated Bree was free, and she hustled out to the main waiting area, which was set up like a little living room. There were often security or entourage members hanging out in the space, but today, it was just Noah. He turned when Bree walked in the room his eyes immediately found hers and scanned her quickly. He was always checking her for physical or emotional distress and keeping a pulse on how she was doing. It was kind of nice.
“Ready?” He asked warmly, walking over and standing close enough for her to feel the heat from his body. Their hands hung down at their sides, and their fingers brushed lightly. A shot of pure heat ran through her, and she looked up at him. His eyes darkened, and she had the distinct impression that he felt that same jolt of electricity.
“I am. Let’s get out of here.” Bree said with a smile. Noah rested his hand on her lower back and guided her out of the recording studio and into the car. The drive home was uneventful, and she found herself wishing she had a reason for him to stay with her longer.
“So what will you do with the rest of your day?” Bree asked as they got out of the car, desperate to add just a few more minutes with him.
He lingered as well, moving far more slowly than normal as they entered the house. “I have a meeting with the guys this afternoon and then I’ll go through some inquiries from prospective clients. Probably spend most of it on the phone. You?”
“I have a small commission to finish up so I can send it out next week,” Bree said, hanging up her purse and returning her keys to the bowl by the door. She took off her sweater and tossed it on the back of her couch so she could return it down the hall later. Noah leaned on the front door and watched her, a small smile on his face.
“A commission?” Noah asked.
“I have a little side business selling art,” Bree said, vaguely surprised when she found she wanted to include Noah more in this aspect of her life which was wholly hers.
“Ah yes—the mysteriously large packages that get sent out periodically. You’ll have to show me them sometime.” He said, smiling.
“I’d like that,” Bree told him, surprised to find that she meant it. Very few people knew—or needed to know—but she wanted Noah to know…everything. The phone in her pocket buzzed and she pulled out her phone, a local number she was unfamiliar with on the screen. She smiled apologetically at Noah before swiping to answer the call.
“Hello?” She said, as Noah watched her carefully. Again with the soft breathing.
“Who is it?” Noah asked, loudly enough that the person on the other end of the line must’ve heard him.
“Whore!” The male voice spat before hanging up.
Bree pulled the phone away from her ear and stared at it for a moment before bursting into tears.
Noah looked alarmed and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in close. “What happened, Bree? Who was it?”
“I…” She sobbed harder—the heaviness of the last few weeks settling on her like a ton of bricks. “I…” When she couldn’t get anything out, she stopped trying and let the tears flow.
***
Bree rang herself out of tears and was certain she had a dazed look on her face as Noah pulled away from her. He reached out slowly and wiped her eyes with his hand. “Bree?” Noah said softly.
She looked at him, sniffling rather loudly. Embarrassment crept in as her brain processed the fear and anguish.
“Did something bad happen?”
She shook her head adamantly.
“Who was it?”
She shrugged her shoulders, her bottom lip beginning to tremble again.
“You didn’t know the caller?”
She shook her head. If she knew who it was, she could report him. Or block him. Or something.
“Was it a man?”
She nodded.
“Did he say anything to you?”
“Yes.” She whispered, the man’s voice still echoing loudly in her ear.
“What did he say?”
“He called me a whore.” She croaked out, her tears silently beginning to fall down her face again despite her attempts to hold them in.
“Has he ever called you before?” Noah asked through his teeth, his jaw ticking rhythmically.
“Yes,” Bree said softly.
Noah frowned, “How many times?”
“At least seven.” Bree cried. “But he doesn’t usually talk. He just…breathes.”
“He breathes?”
“Yeah.”
“Is it always from the same number?”
“No. It’s usually different numbers. Today…today it was from a local area code.”
Noah’s eyes flew to hers, a look of alarm in them before he schooled his features.
“What? What is it?”
Noah hesitated.
“I’m a grown woman, Noah. Tell me.”
He sighed. “A normal…whoever it was could just be getting their rocks off on scaring and tormenting you but given the note, the DMs, and the situation with the press, if it was a stalker then we have to assume local means the stalker could—and likely will—escalate further. It means…” He ran a hand through his hair in exasperation, a tortured look on his face. “It means you could be in more danger than we anticipated.” He said evenly.
“You’ll keep me safe,” Bree said, resting an arm on him reassuringly. “I’m not one of the women in horror movies who is too stupid to live. I may not like you ordering me around, but I do understand when it is necessary. We’ll catch him.” She said, feeling unsettled by Noah’s concern and her own response to it. She would make it through this. There was no alternative.