Chapter 40
Chapter forty
Noah
Rhys stands right behind me as I reach for the phone. Martha has given us the room, probably assuming it’s about the police investigation.
I hope she’s right. I'm expecting my dad with a lecture about how bad he felt being kicked out.
Rhys’s presence against my spine suggests he agrees.
“Hello?” I greet, using the weird coiled handset that would be an exciting experience if my heart wasn't threatening to beat right out of my chest.
For a moment, there's only heavy breathing.
It's unnerving, but completely normal for animal welfare protesters.
“Is that Noah?” a voice finally speaks. It's not deep and sinister, just a normal male voice. There's nothing unnerving about that.
“Yes. Speaking.”
“Noah Humphries?”
That's a little creepier.
“Yes, that's me.”
“You moved the assets.”
“Assets?” I turn to look at Rhys. Honestly, if he's going to get that murder look in his eyes, I want to see.
It might help settle me.
“The dogs. You took the dogs.”
“Oh. Yes. Well, the… brothers… Do you know Frank and Derek?”
“I know them.”
“Do you know where they are? They just left one day, and I didn't know what to do. I couldn't look after twenty-four bitches, plus pups all by myself.”
“The assets aren't yours to sell. That's my money. You're stealing from me.”
“Oh. Well, the dogs don't belong to me. You'd need to tell the council.”
“No. You listen to me, Noah. I know where you're hiding. You're not safe there. Not where you are. Not with him. Don't think your parents are safe either. If you don’t return my assets, I’ll ruin your pathetic little life."
“Right… okay…” I hang up before he can say anything else, meet Rhys's eyes and burst out crying.
This is not the outcome I was hoping for.
Still, I hung up on him. I technically got the last laugh. Something we should be celebrating. Instead, I'm crying.
“You're okay, Noah. You did great.” Rhys looks like he wants to touch me.
Instead, he reaches for the tissue box.
I understand; who'd want my snotty, tear-stained face pressed against their scrubs?
“He threatened them.” I blubber like an idiot.
“I'm sure they are fine.”
“He said the dogs aren't mine.”
“And you agreed with him. They belong to the council.”
“I don't care who they belong to; those dogs are mine. They'll always be mine.”
“That isn’t true.” Rhys takes hold of my wrists, as if he expects me to lash out. “Martha has asked to keep Pumpkin.”
“But she works…”
“She asked if I'd allow her to let the dog stay under the desk all day.”
“What am I going to do with Honey? You can't say no to Martha if you're going to let Honey follow me everywhere.” Because he is absolutely going to let Honey follow me everywhere.
Wait.
This isn't about me mentally accepting the re-homing of the dogs.
This is him distracting me from the creepy guy on the phone.
And the worst thing… it worked.
Suddenly I'm not thinking about the man on the phone. I'm thinking about how I'll feel seeing Pumpkin in the office every day and knowing she isn't mine.
“We need to protect our assets.” He will not trick me into letting my puppy obsession relax me.
“Just Honey?”
“What? No, all of them.” I try to pull from his grip, but it just tightens around me. “Oh God, they're in foster homes across the country.”
“Exactly. Where he can't get them.”
“What are you doing?” I narrow my eyes at him. He's distracting me with talk of Pumpkin living under Martha's desk, and Honey being my only dog. Letting me think about all the dogs that have escaped the caller's clutches.
So what is he deflecting my thoughts from?
“Honey. Bunny and Sunny?” He offers.
“You'd let me have three dogs?” Oh, he is definitely hiding something from that call that I missed.
“I'll let Martha bring Pumpkin in every day to see you.”
That would open the floodgates and have everyone requesting a dog. I know all the staff have a secret favorite.
When I said he'd threatened them, Rhys said he was sure they were fine, but we know for a fact that all the dogs are fine. He would have been certain, not sure.
“My parents?” Is that what he's trying to skirt around? “He said about my parents. Do you think…”
His slow nod says it all.
“My parents only went to the car last night. We thought they'd just come back the next morning, but they didn't.” It wasn't Rhys's sexy, dangerous voice that scared them away. It was the Shadow Man. “He threatened my parents, and that's why they left.”
Rhys's face clouds with anger as I slowly realize what he'd worked out in a heartbeat.
“They left… and they didn’t warn me about him.”
The words sit there. Heavy and final.
That hits the nail on the head.
It's not that they were threatened.
It's just that they left me to deal with this alone.
“You are not alone.” Rhys insists, pulling me closer into him.
Either he's forgotten about the tear transfer or he's satisfied I've stopped crying.
“You have a family here. Everyone here loves you.
Which is a little annoying. I wanted to keep you to myself.
And you have me. And when it comes to stalkers, it's me you want. Not them. Remember that.”
I'm not sure whether to take that as reassurance or a threat.
“I guess we should tell the police?” I draw a deep breath, as if there is courage mixed with the air. “We know why Frank and Derek ran.”
“They ran?”
He frowns at me like he thinks I've forgotten what really happened.
“Yes. Obviously this guy has been hounding them for money and they finally had enough. And we need to tell the police before he decides to take a permanent holiday with them.”
“Noah…” he pulls away so I can see his eyes. They're blank.
Oh. He’s in that dangerous place, where he's blank on the outside but imagining death on the inside.
Or that's what I'm imagining, anyway.
“Oh, unless you think he was watching the brothers. On the night you…”
He nods slowly.
Like he’s already deciding what to do about it.
“Right. We'll skip the motive and go straight for him following them.”
Martha knocks gently on the door, presumably wondering if she can get back to work yet.
“Oh, we're going to need a cover for why we took so long, so I'm telling her I convinced you to keep Pumpkin under her desk.”
“You little rat.” Rhys tries grabbing me as I slip away to tell Martha the good news.
“But you love me for it,” I call over my shoulder.
We both freeze.
Because I didn’t mean to say that out loud.