Chapter 20
Chapter twenty
Cas is gone. My world feels too empty without him.
Roxy and I leave for Texas in a few days for our first convention stop on the tour.
It’s literally the only thing holding me together right now.
Once we’re in Texas, it will be easier with all the distractions.
As if he can sense I’m thinking about him, his number pops up.
“Hey, do you have a minute? We need to talk.” Cas sounds upset.
My stomach drops. Did something happen? Is this the dreaded before-breakup moment—the entire reason a one-night stand is supposed to stay a one-night stand? Here I am allowing myself to catch feelings when that’s not what I wanted to begin with—
Cas clears his throat. “Vivienne, did you hear me?”
“Yes,” I answer, my heart racing as my lunch threatens to make a surprise appearance all over the living room floor.
He sounds nervous, which only makes my worry grow. “There’s some media buzz about our date and my new love interest. Some photos got leaked from the other night.”
I breathe a sigh of relief. Just photos. I can deal with photos. It’s nothing special. We were at the restaurant. Cas hasn’t stopped talking as I tune back in. He’s right in the middle of explaining the photo situation.
“My people have been investigating, and I just heard back that one of the photos was submitted by your ex-boyfriend.” He pauses, allowing me to process.
“Jackson?!” I shout, not meaning to.
“That name rings a bell. I don’t have the information in front of me. We’re in between practice sets. My agent called to bitch this morning. I don’t have a ton of details, but there’s something else you need to know.” Cas sounds worried again.
“Okay,” I manage to reply, my voice barely a whisper as a ball of anxious energy forms in the pit of my stomach.
“The person in the bushes who snapped the photo—the payment information traces back to him. There’s going to be some major publicity, but I can handle it. Luckily, it looks like I was completely blocking you, so you’re not in the photo at all.” He’s not sugarcoating anything.
My hands tremble as I switch the phone to speaker and check the doors are locked. The anxiety continues to bubble inside of me. “I’m scared, Cas. What do you mean he was in the bushes?”
“I know we thought it was just the paparazzi, but it turns out it was your ex. I’m pretty sure it’s not the first time he was there either.” He doesn’t mince words, and I pick up on the big details.
“Why don’t you think it’s the first time?” I ask, because how the hell would he know if it was the first time or not?
“Please don’t get upset, Vivienne. I swear it wasn’t anything creepy.
I have a confession to make.” He sounds defeated.
“I was practicing driving to your house after I landed, and I saw someone leap out of your bushes and go running down the street,” he pauses.
“I had no idea it was your house, and I honestly didn’t think anything of it. ”
“Oh my god.” I cover my mouth with my hand. “I felt like someone was watching me lately, but I convinced myself it was nothing.”
“I’m sorry. I wish I could be there. It’s really important you contact the police. Ask them for a restraining order. I’m going to email you some documents. I’ll pay for everything,” he blurts out, clearly exasperated. He sounds like shit.
I can tell it’s really messing him up not being able to be here with me. “It’s okay, Cas. Roxy can help me, and I don’t need your money,” I reply, fighting like hell to stay calm even though my hands are shaking.
“I know you don’t. Let me pay for it, Vivienne. Please. It’s my fault.”
“It’s not your fault. I don’t know how any of it could be your fault.
It’s mine. I goaded him. I posted our very public, very viral breakup video.
I ruined him in a quest to make myself feel better.
It’s my fault. Thanks for sending what I need to turn over to the police.
” My pleas are desperate. I brought this on myself, and now poor Cas got dragged into it.
“I know you don’t need me to pay for it, but let me fix this for you.” He sounds hell-bent on it.
“If it will make you feel better,” I concede.
“It will,” he sighs. “I wish I didn’t have to go. They need me on stage. I’ll check on you when I can. Text me your email, and I’ll call later.”
He hangs up before I can say goodbye. The emotional floodgates threaten to burst as I type out my email. Once it’s sent, I call Roxy.
She answers on the second ring. “Hey babe. Are you having a packing crisis, or is that just me?”
I gulp, fighting off a panic attack. “You’re actually not going to believe what Cas just told me.”
“Let’s hear it,” she answers, up for the challenge.
“Jackson was hiding in my bushes and he took a picture of us after our date. He sold it, and Cas investigated. He also saw him in the bushes the night before. He said he was practicing driving to my house and he saw him running down the street.”
Roxy interrupts me. “One—that’s fucking adorable he was practicing, and two—we’re obviously going to call the cops and ask for a restraining order. Between the emails and everything else now. You know this isn’t okay…right, Vi?”
“I know. Cas is going to email me paperwork. But do you think we can call right now? Afterwards, can I just stay at your house until we leave? I don’t want to be alone.” I’m fighting back tears.
“Of course, babe. Do you want me to come over so I can be there when you call, or do you want to talk to them alone?” Roxy jumps into action, forcing me to formulate a plan.
“It doesn’t matter.” I feel defeated. I sink into the couch. “What if he’s watching right now?”
I didn’t realize I said it out loud until Roxy answers. “If he’s outside, he better hope he’s not. I’m on my way over, and I’m going to take a look in the bushes.”
“Roxy, what if there’s evidence? If you disturb it, then it could make it harder to charge him,” I warn.
“Fine, but I’m bringing my bear spray. I’ve always wanted to use it on a low-life douchebag.”
I try to laugh, but it comes out forced. She hasn’t hung up yet, and I can hear her opening the front door at her house. I’m so glad she lives next door—we can always be there for each other.
Roxy’s trip over is uneventful. She hides the bear mace in my hall closet before we call the police.
“I have more bottles at home, and I’m definitely tossing one in my checked bag.” Roxy holds up a hand to stop me from speaking. “Before you say anything, I read the TSA handbook. It’s totes allowed. I don’t trust Jackson’s behavior. There’s no way we’re traveling without it.”
She follows me into the kitchen, and we sit down at my table, where I already have a notebook and pen waiting. Roxy squeezes my hand as I pop the phone onto speaker. The line rings a few times before someone on the other end says, “Lakewood non-emergency. Please state the reason for your call.”
“Hi, I need to see about getting a restraining order and filing a report about my ex-boyfriend hiding in my bushes and taking photos of me at my house,” I blurt out.
The operator pauses. “Ma’am, is he there right now?”
“No,” I answer. “It was a few nights ago.”
“I don’t have any available officers to take the report right now, but I’ll log the call, and as soon as someone frees up, I can have them give you a call back. Is there anything else I can help you with?” they ask politely.
“No,” I reply, defeated.
I hang up. My anxiety ball feels like it just tripled in size. I lay my head on the table. Roxy gives me head scratches and plays with my hair. It helps me calm down. “What do we do when the police won’t help us?” I whine.
“We take matters into our own hands,” Roxy answers. “Also, they didn’t say no—they’re just busy.”
“You’re right. But if he were here, I bet they’d have no problem sending someone out,” I say as my thoughts begin trickling out of my brain to form a plan.
“That’s true.” Roxy snaps her fingers. “All we’ve got to do is catch him while he’s here.”
“How do we get him here?”
Roxy slams her hands on the table. “We might not have to.” She jumps up. “Come on.”
Roxy walks back to the entryway, plucks the bear mace from the closet, shoving it awkwardly in her back pocket. “First we need to gather our own evidence. We’re going into the bushes to look for clues.”
“Rox,” I complain. “I don’t want to do that.”
“Will you do it for chocolate-covered frozen strawberries?” she arches a brow at me.
“Yes, but if you start making us solve mysteries on the daily, I’m out,” I say, crossing my arms.
“But you want to binge-watch all the movies now, don’t you?” Roxy snickers.
“Yes, and eat my chocolate strawberries,” I pout.
“Deal. Now get your shoes and bring your ass outside to help me look.” Roxy opens the front door, motioning for me to hurry up.
I slip on a pair of flip-flops, following her out to where the bushes begin on the side of the long sidewalk. We stumble through the bushes and woodchips, which keep stabbing my toes. Up ahead, I hear Roxy stop walking.
“Vi!” she hollers.
“Yeah?”
“He’s been here. Come see this,” she yells.
I follow her into a spot where there’s plenty of open space between the house and the bushes, but it’s completely concealed.
There’s a folded-up camping chair leaning against the wall, a gum wrapper, and an empty chip bag.
We stand at the edge of the opening because there are several nearly perfect footprints in the woodchips.
It’s definitely a man’s footprint based on the sheer size of it.
“I’m sleeping at your house from now on. This is fucking creepy,” I say, snapping pictures and sending them to Cas. I don’t know why I sent them to him, but I don’t tell Roxy.
She takes photos too. “We need to document all of this. I guarantee he’ll be back—if not tonight, then soon.”
“So how do we know once he’s here?” I’m talking to myself, orally processing the situation.