Chapter 9
Nine
SLOANE
Monroe knew everything about my life. Over the past year, we’d built trust and love and shared all of our deepest traumas with one another.
It made carrying them easier, to have someone in our lives who knew what had shaped us.
To have them care these things had happened to us, and to want a better life for us going forward.
Roe had become the best friend I’d ever had, and in her I fully trusted.
It was because of that trust I left the café in Inverness, feeling confused and more depressed about Walker than ever. Go to speed dating, Roe said. It’ll help you get over Walker, she said.
The pepper spray I kept in my purse was now in the pocket of the light cardigan I wore, my hand clutched around it.
Yes, life had made me extra cautious, even in the middle of a city when there were witnesses around.
But it was a city I was unfamiliar with as I reoriented myself to where I’d parked my car.
Out of the twelve guys with whom I’d just spent five minutes each—time I’d never get back—not one asked me anything beyond my name and occupation.
The self-absorbed asshats spent the rest of the time telling me about their jobs, their likes and dislikes, and staring at my breasts.
To be fair, I was not physically attracted to any of them.
Now that I knew I could physically react to someone the way I reacted to Walker …
that’s what I wanted. I wanted butterflies and hot tingles between my thighs.
I wanted to be aware of his proximity, to feel every touch like I was near a live wire.
I tried to relax as I followed the map on my phone back to my car.
A few more people strolled along the high street, the area brick paved and designed for pedestrians.
A mix of architectural styles suggested the street had been added to over many, many decades, maybe even centuries.
Parts of it looked Georgian, while other buildings screamed the sixties and seventies.
I’d only been to Inverness a few times but hadn’t really taken it in because Callie was more interested in dragging me from store to store.
The high street gave way to a road, and I crossed it onto the sidewalk, passing a beautiful building that resembled a small castle.
It was so out of place that it drew the eye.
I knew from Monroe it had been built in the 1700s for a lord and was now Inverness Town Hall.
I focused on it, lit up in the twilight, and clutched my pepper spray when I heard boisterous male laughter behind me.
I neared a pub, however, and a few sober adults stood outside smoking, so I tried to relax.
Tried being the operative word. I was more than a little jumpy these days, so I quickened my step, hurrying off the high street and up a steep, brick-paved hill that I now remembered walking down.
I passed quaint brick buildings with large dormer windows that looked like they still might be residential and followed the narrow lane almost to the top.
A little out of breath from the climb, I was never more thankful to see the parking lot where I’d left my car.
It was much busier than when I’d left it, and now that I wasn’t rushing to get to the event in time, I took in the surroundings in the darkening light.
Apartments. The parking lot was surrounded by two apartment blocks.
I’d parked in a residential lot. No wonder there was no meter.
Ugh. I hoped I didn’t have a ticket.
This night had been the biggest bust, and I needed to tell my best friend about it. Walking across the lot, I dug my phone out of my purse.
“How did it go?” Monroe asked without preamble.
The days were still long this far north, even in late September, but twilight was almost night now as I tripped over a grassy sidewalk that cut between the parking spaces for some bizarre reason. “Crap.”
“You okay?”
“Yeah, tripped. Anyway, it was not worth the two-hour round trip.” I pressed the phone to my shoulder with my ear as I used both hands to fumble for my car keys.
“Aw.” Monroe sounded even more disappointed than me. “There wasn’t even one bloke there you fancied?”
“Nope. And I parked somewhere I shouldn’t have.”
“That’s rubbish. There was absolutely no one there that made you forget you-know-who?”
You-know-who.
Having an almighty crush on Walker had brought me nothing but an emotional roller coaster and distraction I did not need.
Apparently, he was back from his vacation, but I hadn’t seen him all week.
The worst part of him distancing himself was that Callie even asked after him.
She wanted to know where he was. Kids were more perceptive than we gave them credit for, and I think my daughter sensed I liked Walker. I think she liked that I liked Walker.
That was proof I should never let a guy into our lives until I was sure he intended to stay. And I had to be better at guarding my feelings. If Callie could sense them, then I knew Walker had too. Hence the distance he’d put between us.
Rejection stung.
“No. Most of them just stared at my breasts the whole time.”
“Well, can you really blame them?”
I grinned as I stopped at my car. “Have I ever told you how good you are for my self—mmmughh!” Something suddenly covered my mouth, and it took me a second to register it was a gloved hand. A hard body pressed me against the car from behind, and I screamed behind the hand.
“Sloane? Sloane?” Monroe’s muffled, frantic voice could be heard from where I’d dropped my phone on the ground.
I butted my head against my attacker and slammed my elbow into his gut. He grunted, not expecting the force of it, and I turned to find a man, a good few inches taller than me, wearing street clothes and a ski mask.
Eyes of indeterminate color beneath the streetlights glared ferociously at me. He lunged and I cried out, falling back against my car, the scream for help choking inside me. My hand dove into the pocket of my sweater and just as he reached me, I lifted and sprayed that crap into his eyes.
The smell stung my nostrils as he grunted repeatedly in pain and fell to his knees. I stupidly stood there, frozen, as he stumbled to his feet and ran away, weaving all over the place because I’d blinded him.
“Sloane!” I heard my name yelled as if from a distance, and it pulled me out of my moronic trance.
Scrambling for my phone and purse, I snatched them up and dove into my car, hitting the locks.
I shook from head to toe, a cold sweat breaking out over my body as I floored it out of there.
My phone automatically connected to my car, and Monroe’s frantic voice filled it as I heard her telling Brodan something was wrong.
“I’m here, I’m here!” I shouted in my fear and shock.
“Oh my bloody God, what happened?” Roe yelled back angrily.
“Someone tried to mug me.” Tears came now, and I knew she could hear them as I explained, “He came up behind me before I got in my car. I fought him off and sprayed my pepper spray in his eyes. Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God.”
“What the … Brodan …” Her voice trailed off, and then I heard her husband’s voice. “Sloane, it’s Brodan. Are you safe to drive?”
“I … I … uh … I’m in shock, but I can’t stop.” I shook my head as an image of stopping only for the attacker to appear again popped into it. “I want to come home.”
“Okay. Okay. Stay on the phone with us, then. Come to us first before you collect Callie. Okay? It’ll give you time to calm down.”
“I smell,” I said in realization. “I’ve got pepper spray on me.”
“Then you can shower and change your clothes here. It’s not a problem. Just… come here first, all right?”
“I can do that.” I wiped the sweat off my forehead. “Someone tried to mug me. What the actual hell?” It was like I couldn’t catch a break. “Is this for real? Who gets attacked twice in one month?” Anger I tried so hard to fight back won. “Fuck my life!”
I sat on Monroe and Brodan’s couch, clutching a hot mug of tea between my hands.
I hadn’t even let Monroe hug me when I arrived at their place.
Instead, I’d jumped straight into the shower to scrub the smell of pepper spray off me.
Then I’d changed into a dress of Monroe’s that barely fit because she was so petite.
Thankfully, Brodan had given me one of his hoodies to put on over it.
My clothes were currently in their washing machine.
Concern glinted brightly in my friend’s eyes while I stared at her large bump, worrying about anything stressing her out.
Much less my bad luck.
“I’m just glad you’re all right.” Monroe stared down at me, wringing her hands.
As soon as I’d walked into the living room, fresh from the shower, she’d hugged me hard and burst into tears. I knew it was hormones for her, but when I cried, it was from shock and frustration.
I didn’t want the anger to win. But someone had tried to mug me. “Do I have a target on my back?” I asked my friends. “Does it say ‘easy pickings’ on it?”
Brodan’s brows pinched. “You are having a stream of bad luck lately.”
“Lately?” I scoffed. “Try for the last twenty-six, almost twenty-seven, years. It started when I was born on Christmas Day. That’s just bad luck.” Seeing the worried look they exchanged, I sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m not myself right now.”
“No bloody wonder.” Roe paced up and down. “I mean, two attacks in one month is …” She trailed off, turning pale as she stopped and looked at me. “What if that wasn’t a mugging? Tell us exactly what happened.”
“Not a mugging?” I frowned. “What could it have been?”
“Tell us exactly what happened. Every moment.”
So I did.
“He never tried to take your purse?” Brodan quizzed.
“I didn’t give him the chance.”
“But why not grab the purse and run?” Roe insisted. “You’d dropped everything. He came at you again instead of stealing your purse.”
Fear shivered through me as I understood what she was saying. “You think it was planned?”
“What if it was Hoffman?”
I shook my head. “He was too tall.”
“Or someone Hoffman hired.” Monroe shot a worried look at Brodan. “Do you think he might try to scare Sloane?”
Brodan squeezed his eyes closed as he rubbed his forehead. “It’s always a possibility. Fuck … why are the women in this family such danger magnets? If I die young, it will be from the stress of it.”
Instead of his words eliciting fear, I felt warmth spread through me. Brodan considered me family?
“We could be jumping to conclusions here,” I reminded them quietly. “There’s a real possibility this is merely horrible luck.”
“I don’t know.” Brodan shook his head, unconvinced. “He wore gloves and a ski mask. A ski mask, maybe … but gloves? To mug you?”
“Okay, now you’re freaking me out.” What if it was Hoffman? Payback for getting him kicked out of Ardnoch? “Callie.” My gaze met Roe’s. “I can’t have Callie in danger.” Not again.
“Protection,” Roe announced. “A bodyguard for you and Callie.”
“I can’t afford that.” I stood, shaking my head at the suggestion. “And doesn’t it seem a little overboard?”
“Maybe. But isn’t it worth it to know Callie is safe?”
“Of course! But I can’t afford that, Roe, and I am not taking any more handouts from you.” My pride could only handle so many hits.
“Handouts?” She looked hurt.
“That’s not what I meant. I’m sorry … I’ll just be extra vigilant. And something is less likely to happen here than in the city.”
“I really think—arghh!” Monroe suddenly cried out, bending over slightly and clutching her belly.
Fear lanced through me as both Brodan and I reached for her.
She panted, wide-eyed, as she stared at Brodan.
“Roe?” He held her close, looking terrified.
Her gaze dropped to where a wet stain darkened the fabric of her wide-leg pants. She looked back up at him. “I think my water just broke.”