Chapter 14
Robyn
I lock the door and stand there, staring at the grain in the wood for a few seconds.
Why did I do that?
Why did I tell Ridge I had a boyfriend?
I walk back down the hallway, sighing.
There hasn’t been anyone in my life in years.
I shouldn’t have, but I’m an idiot, so I lied.
Maybe I said it because I didn’t want him sleeping over at my house. Surely that’s reasonable? I think so.
Forgive me for not wanting to have a sleepover with Ridge. Saying yes would have been…uncomfortable. He would have been right there on my sofa, and I would have tossed and turned all night.
So, yes, the boyfriend lie kept him out of my apartment. That is a perfectly good reason.
It’s not the real reason, though. Not if I’m being honest.
The real reason is that he stood in my bedroom, where we got down and dirty.
He looked at a pair of my underwear and clearly felt nothing.
He didn’t even flinch. He didn’t get tongue-tied.
He didn’t shift his weight or look away or clear his throat.
He carried on with his assessment. Cool and calm and so irritating that I felt like kicking him.
Then he asked me if I had a boyfriend who could come stay with me. He looked at the bag with all the condoms while he said it.
I panicked.
What was I supposed to say to that?
No boyfriend. I bought a hundred extra-large condoms and a box of banana-flavored backups to mess with you. I’m a lonely workaholic who hasn’t been touched since the night you came around.
I’m pathetic. I should get myself a cat…or ten.
Of course I lied.
If I had to do it over, I would lie again.
He doesn’t need to know. It’s not like he’ll ever find out. He’ll upgrade the security both here at my apartment and at the hospital, and then he’ll go back to Draig Security, and I’ll never have to see him again.
He was being a little unreasonable after what happened with that shifter asshole at the store.
He is the kind of guy who takes his job seriously.
That didn’t mean he had to stay over. It was overkill.
If thinking I’d have a boyfriend over tonight puts his mind at ease, then a little white lie can’t hurt.
I open the freezer and pull out a lasagna. I peel back the corner of the film, slide it into the oven, and set the timer. The oven hums to life. The smell of tomato and garlic starts to build within minutes.
I head down the hall, take off my clothes, and step under the hot water. I wash my hair, soap up, and rinse off. I get out. I towel off, pull on a pair of soft sleep shorts and a thin tank, and head back to the kitchen with my hair wet on my neck.
I eat the lasagna straight out of the foil tray with a fork, standing at the counter, watching the lights of Draig blink in the windows across the street.
I yawn a few times between bites.
I’m finished…dead on my feet.
I rinse the fork, head to the bathroom, and brush my teeth, drinking some water directly from the faucet. Then I walk through the apartment one more time to check that everything is secure.
Once satisfied, I slide between my cool sheets and turn off the lamp.
It’s bliss.
The apartment goes quiet around me, and I close my eyes, asleep in no time.
I am so deeply asleep that when a noise wakes me, for a second, I don’t know where I am.
My eyes snap open in the dark.
My heart is racing, and I’m not sure why. It’s Ridge. He’s made me paranoid.
I lie still and listen.
I hear nothing for a few seconds, and then there’s a definite scratching sound. It’s slow and drawn out. I think it’s coming from the living room.
I freeze.
A creak follows it. Then another scratch. Then stillness.
Shit! Shit! Shit!
I sit up. The clock on the nightstand reads 2:47.
My mouth has gone dry.
I tell myself not to panic, but it’s too late because I’m panicking.
Crap!
There is the sound of another scratch.
It isn’t normal. Someone is here. I think they might be on my balcony and trying to break in.
Surely not!
Come on!
I slide out from under the sheet as quietly as I can and ease my feet onto the rug.
Then I move to the bedroom door in bare feet and stop with my hand on the frame.
I can see down the short hallway from here.
Just the edge of the living room. The lamp is off.
Everything is in shades of gray and black.
The drapes over the sliding door are part open, the way I left them, the slats of moonlight cutting across the floor.
There is a shape on my balcony. It looks like someone is crouching down by my balcony sliding door.
The next scratch is louder.
The person has something in their hands, and they are definitely trying to get the slider open.
Oh god.
Oh god, oh god, oh god.
I take a step back.
What should I do?
What if they get in?
I move to the kitchen on the balls of my feet, pull the drawer open as quietly as I can, and curl my fingers around the handle of the biggest knife there.
My hand is unsteady.
I look back across the living room.
The shape on the balcony has gone still. He’s seen me, or sensed me, or noticed the change in the dark.
“I see you! I’ve called security! Get the hell off my balcony!”
The shape doesn’t move.
I don’t wait to see if he believes me. Instead, I bolt down the hall and into my bedroom with the knife in one hand.
I snatch my cell phone off the nightstand on the way past. Then I slam the bathroom door, lock it, and back up against the bathtub.
I put the knife down on the counter and immediately scroll through my contacts, finding Ridge.
I tap the screen and lift the phone to my ear. It rings once.
“What’s wrong?” He sounds wide awake.
The sound of his voice steadies me, just a little.
“There’s someone on my balcony.” My words come out high and hushed. “I’m in the bathroom. I locked the door. I have a knife. I— He was… He was trying to open the slider, Ridge, I could hear him scratching at the door, he—”
“Did he see you?”
“I shouted at him,” I whisper. “I told him I called security. I didn’t actually call—”
“Sit tight. Don’t move. I am on my way.”
“Are you—?”
“I’ll be there in five minutes. Start screaming if you hear him inside your apartment.”
The line goes dead.
I put down the phone and pick up the knife. I listen with all my might, but I don’t hear anything. I don’t know if that’s good or bad.
Time ticks by slowly. I still don’t hear anything. I keep straining my ears. Every second feels like an eternity.
I gasp when my phone lights up with a message from Ridge.
At your sliding door. It’s all clear.
He must have used the emergency stairs and climbed across. It’s probably how the would-be intruder got onto my balcony. I rush over to the sliding door.
“Open the door,” he tells me as I pull the drapes aside.
I put the knife on the nearby coffee table and do as he says.
Ridge fills the opening as soon as I push the sliding door open.
He’s in dark clothes, and his hair is loose. He drops his phone into his pocket and steps inside.
I’m so happy to see him that I throw my arms around him and press my face to his chest.
“I was so afraid,” I say into his shirt.
His arms come up and close around me, slow at first and then properly, one hand at my back and one cupping the back of my head. He’s warm, and so damned big. He also smells really good. I feel my nerves temper.
I force myself to let go of him and step back.
“Sorry. I… Sorry. Um…”
“It’s understandable that you’re a bit shaken. Show me where you saw him,” he says.
I point at the slider.
He turns and squats down in front of the track. He runs a finger along the lock. He runs it along the frame.
“This might be a tool mark here on the frame.”
“Whoever it was, they were definitely trying to get in. He was crouched over here, and there was a scratching sound.”
“I’m sure he was trying to pop the slider off the track when you interrupted him. Amateur,” he mutters the last to himself.
“I yelled,” I say. My voice is small. “I told him I’d called for help. I…I had a knife.” I gesture vaguely at the table where I dropped it. “I think I scared him off.”
Ridge stands. He looks down at me.
“You absolutely scared him off.”
“I’m lucky.”
“Yes.”
“Who do you think it was?” I ask. “Was it the guy from the store?”
“I don’t know.” He slides the door closed behind him and locks it. “I’ll know more tomorrow. I’ll get someone from my team to pull the camera footage from this building. They’ll go over it with a fine-tooth comb.”
“Do you think they’ll find something?”
He shrugs. “There are plenty of dark spots in and around this building, but you never know. Maybe we’ll get lucky. Do you know of anyone who might have targeted you?”
I shake my head. “No…not at all. I think this whole thing is insane. Up until you showed up, everything was fine. Not that I’m blaming you. It’s just a coincidence, that’s all.”
He makes a noise like he isn’t buying it.
“Don’t you want to come inside?”
He nods and follows me, looking like he’s deep in thought.
I turn the light on, and we stop just short of the kitchen.
Then he looks around, his eyes narrowing.
“Where’s your boyfriend?” he asks.
“I…um…I didn’t invite him over.”
“Why not? I thought we agreed that you would call him and ask him to stay over.”
“Well, I…I um…”
What the hell should I tell him?
“You need to tell me, Robyn. We had an agreement. I wanted to stay over to ensure your safety, but you declined. You said you would invite your boyfriend. Did he turn you down? Who is this asshole?”
Shit! What now? Do I keep lying?
I can’t!
“I…um…you see…I don’t have a boyfriend,” I finally blurt.
His jaw tightens, and his eyes turn stormy.