Chapter 16
Jude
I want her.
By god, I want her more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my entire life.
I could tell she was special when she was lying on the dirty ground in a torn wedding dress throwing attitude at me, but I couldn’t have guessed the layers beneath her tough exterior or how much they’d entice me.
For three weeks, I’ve had a trespasser in my quiet, secluded life, and I suddenly can’t remember why I enjoyed the solitude. Why I ever thought myself and a pack of lovable dogs would be enough.
I didn’t realize until now how much I missed human connection outside of a familial source.
Now that I’m surrounded by her softness on a daily basis, I can’t get her out of my head.
I’m convinced I smell her on my morning walks with the dogs, mixed with the scent of the dewy, spring earth and fresh air. I hear her laughter in the quiet house. I watch her walk around nightly in my tee shirt and wonder when she sneaks off to wash it.
I know she does because the rest of her clothes are fresh, but she times it perfectly so that she never misses a night sleeping in it.
The sight makes me even more desperate to peel it off her body and run my hands up the curves I imagine lie underneath.
Yet, at the same time, I question my ability to be vulnerable. When she finds out my secret, she’ll look at me with a mixture of disgust and pity like they all have before. She’ll need the story, and it’s not one I’m sure I’m ready to divulge.
The more attention that’s drawn to my strange compulsion, the harder it becomes to control.
It took my family months to realize asking me about it constantly only made the counting worse. My anxiety would ramp up, and I’d pull away a little more each time until I’d successfully driven them away. Arm’s length plus ten feet felt good to me. Even if it became a little lonely, it gave me back control.
Frankie’s proximity threatens to tear that control away from me, and I’m not sure I can freely give it up.
With a scowl etched on my face, I refill the food bins in the pantry. My movements are heavy. My footsteps loud. Items crash against one another as I push them carelessly out of my way.
A startling tone rings from my back pocket. I yank my phone out and answer it bitterly.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Jude. It’s Silas.”
The uncertainty of why the police would be calling me starts the steady count. The unprogrammed number tells me this is official and not a friendly call. Otherwise, my friend would have used his cell.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
I blink heavily and lean against the shelf at my back for support. “Hey, what’s going on?”
“I hear through the grapevine that you’ve got a woman named Frankie staying with you. Is that right?”
I swallow thick and clench my hand at my side. The pace picks up.
Six. Seven. Eight.
Nine.
Ten.
Exhale.
“Yeah, she’s staying here. Something wrong?”
“No, nothing’s wrong. We have some of her items at the station. I wanted to see if you’d be able to bring her by.”
I deflate like a pricked balloon. The anxiety ceases as quickly as it turned on. Only a residual tiredness remains, but that will fade into the background with time and distance.
“Yeah, that’s no problem. Any specific time?”
“Anytime is good. I’m about to have lunch, but by the time you get here, I should be done.”
“Sounds good. I’ll see what she’s up to and head that way.”
“Thanks, man.”
“See you later.”
I take the stairs two at a time up to the second-floor hallway. I reach for the knob of Frankie’s door and nearly swing it open before I catch myself.
The sound of my fist against her door rings loudly in the hall.
“Come in,” her soft voice calls from inside.
I swing the door open, and… there’s the compulsion. I pause and count a simple One. Two. Three. before the urge dissipates.
“Hey, you busy?”
She slaps her sketchbook shut and shoves it beneath her pillow. “Nope, just working on some pictures of the dogs for the adoption event.”
I take in Ashe sleeping against her legs. “You do realize she isn’t up for adoption. You’ll have to draw one of the others.”
“Are you kidding? This puppy isn’t going anywhere.”
“She’s not a puppy.”
“All dogs are puppies,” she says in an exaggerated baby voice.
“Tell that to a Doberman.”
“I haven’t seen one of those around here.”
“We don’t get them often.”
“Then I’ll have to wait around until you do.”
My gut flips at the thought of her sticking around that long. Jesus, what was that?
I lick my lips and watch her pet my dog until the feeling settles.
“Um, did you need something?”
“One of my buddies at the police station called. He said they have some of your things there.”
Her brows snap together, minimizing the distance between them. “My things? Did he say what they have?”
“No. Sorry, I didn’t ask. I told him we’d be there soon unless you need some time.”
She launches herself off the bed and pockets her cell phone. Ashe lazily follows.
“I’m ready now.”
I give her a slow once-over. The dark wash jeans she wears cling nicely to her thighs and over her hips. The lilac-colored long-sleeved shirt stretches tight across her chest and hangs slightly around her stomach. Despite the opportunity to drink in her curves, I think she looks better in nothing but my baggy tee shirt.
“Hey, Silas,”I greet when we walk into the station twenty minutes later. Frankie took her time petting the puppies as we sequestered them to the lower level. The dogs stay there when I’m gone so the employees can use the staff entrance and not have access to my entire house.
“Thanks for coming by.”
Silas opens a door to the right and gestures us through.
“This will just take a second.”
“What kind of items did you find?” Frankie asks. Her hand brushes mine with every step, and I beat back the impulse to take her fingers in my hold.
Not here. Not where so many questions can be asked. I don’t have any answers to provide.
“Just some personal effects.” He steps back so we can enter a small office, and he takes a seat at a silver, metal desk. “This familiar?”
“That’s my purse.” She picks up the small brown bag.
“Where’d you lose them?” Silas asks.
I watch him carefully. This appears to be friendly questioning more than an interrogation of some kind.
“I forgot it in a gas station bathroom a couple of weeks ago. By the time I went back, it was gone. I can’t believe someone found it.”
“You’re lucky someone turned it in. You should check that everything’s in order.”
Frankie digs through the small zippered pouch. She pulls out a clunky, ancient looking phone. “My cash is gone. So is my card, but I already canceled it. It looks like my ID, social security card, and my birth certificate are all here.”
“That’s a lot of important documents in one place. Your identity could have been stolen.” Silas leans forward casually and rests his elbow on his desk.
“I was making a move across the country. Things got held up when my purse went missing.”
Silas hums. “And now? Still going to make that move?” His eyes flick to mine. Meddling bastard. He’ll be gossiping at the diner by breakfast.
“I don’t think so. I kind of like it here.”
“I’m glad it all worked out. That’s all I need from you.”
“Thank you so much.” Frankie stands and shakes his hand.
“Jude.” Silas holds his hand out to me, and I grab hold. “Always good to see you.”
“You too.”
“Hope to see you around again, Frankie. Don’t let this guy keep you from having a little fun.”
Frankie pauses at the door and turns over her shoulder to meet Silas’s eyes. “Don’t worry. Jude and I are having plenty of fun.”
While Silas and I pick our jaws off the floor, she skips from view.
“Are you sleeping with her?” he murmurs.
“No, I’m not sleeping with her,” I rumble.
“Mind if I ask her out?”
An uncomfortable heat sears my chest. “I’ve never spent a night in jail, but if you touch her, know I’d do it with a goddamned smile.”
Silas chuckles. “You just made it all the more tempting.”
“Your badge doesn’t scare me, Silas.”
“Neither do you.” He raises a cocky eyebrow.
I give him my back, and his laughter follows me out the door.
Frankie waits for me in the lobby, playing with her old phone.
“You’re trouble,” I growl.
“The battery’s dead.”
“I might have a charger back at the Sanctuary.”
Stepping into the sun cleanses Silas’s provocative words from my head. My irritation cools enough to focus on driving us home.
“You’re quiet,” I intrude on the silent drive. The only sound filling the cab is the rush of tires eating up the pavement.
“I don’t know what I need this for now that you bought me a new one.” She holds up the useless block of wires and plastic. “I programmed all the important numbers into the other one already.”
“Is it a smart phone?”
“It had some capabilities, but I couldn’t use social media apps or video chat.”
“Does it have location services?”
“I think so. I could use maps to get where I needed to be.”
“Your ex have that information?”
She shrugs. “Probably.”
I pluck the phone out of her fingers and chuck it out my open window.
“I just got that back!”
“Do you want me to turn around and go get it?”
The sound of her huff fills the cab. “No.”
I check the rearview mirror, then take a left turn. “Then why are you pouting?”
“I’m jealous I didn’t get to throw it out the window. Not only did it look like fun, but it would have felt really symbolic.”