Chapter Twenty-four #2
I open up my photo app and scroll mindlessly through my pictures. There aren’t many of Rowan and me, but the ones I have make me smile. She’s beautiful and so fucking feisty. And I have to remember that made me fall for her—her fight. And that is why we’re together under the same roof.
Scrolling further up makes me sad to see how far I have to scroll to find pictures of Lauren and my mother. Too fucking long.
My sister was beautiful, the epitome of blonde beauty in a little package.
She didn’t give a shit that I was her brother and would always put me in my place.
I wonder what she’d say now. But if what happened to her didn’t happen, would I still have met Rowan?
Rowan’s time was already ticking thanks to David, but I wouldn’t have been a piece in her puzzle.
I wouldn’t have put two and two together because I didn’t have a dog in that fight.
It was only because of Lauren that I got to meet Rowan.
I smile when I remember her telling me while we sat under the tree, “I’ll find the perfect girl for you; she’d have to be perfect to deal with your ass…
and crazy.” And she did. A tear wells up and falls down my cheek, vanishing into my beard before I can hastily wipe it off.
The need to get out of bed becomes strong. I don’t enjoy being in my emotions, so I force myself out of bed and to the kitchen, where I make myself a cup of coffee.
I wait for Roxy, but she doesn’t come. “Your loss,” I whisper to the empty house before stuffing my feet into my tennis shoes, making my way outside. The sun hasn’t risen yet; it’s still pitch black outside as I make my way down the gravel driveway to Lauren's tree. I sip my hot coffee.
I watch the sun rise under the treetop as I use the trunk as my own back support. My coffee is now long gone.
I must have fallen asleep when I wake in panic, a noise rousing me out of the sleep I was deprived of during the night.
Squinting my eyes against the brightness of the sky, I watch a car come up the drive.
I know who it is, Niko. Fucking Weeks. I let out a groggy laugh, knowing it’s Rowan’s punishment from Weeks.
She’s going to despise that drive. And I get a little kick out of knowing that.
Niko would never hurt Rowan. I trust him wholeheartedly.
Yeah, he’s a fucking psycho, weird and creepy, but she’s safe with him.
I don’t move from my spot. I know she’s probably looking for me in the house, but I still don’t want to see her.
In minutes, the car is driving back down the driveway when my phone chimes.
*You could have at least said goodbye. But I guess you're still upset with me, and that’s fair. I love you, Luca. I’ll be back once Clover is okay, that’s if I can come back home.
I don’t answer her, just leave her on read. That’s fucked up of me, but I’m still not over her keeping secrets. And maybe it’s a fucked-up way to teach her a lesson, but I don’t know what else to do.
Once the car has made it out of eyesight, I stand, moaning. My body is stiff. “Damn it.” My leg is asleep. Trying to shake it awake, but it doesn’t work. I walk tentatively as needle pricks go up my leg, finally waking up.
Roxy lies on the front porch barking at me until I come more into sight, then her tail wags. “Hey, pretty girl,” I coo to her, petting her colossal head.
“It’s just you and me tonight.”
The house is so empty and quiet. Even though it’s mainly just Rowan and me here, she feels it up by just being here.
I smile when I walk to the kitchen island. Sitting on it is a fried egg sandwich. Lifting the note, I bellow out loud. ‘Eat you, asshole.’ Is written in her sloppy script.
The sandwich is cold, but still good, so I scarf it down before letting Roxy lick the plate of the yolk droplets.
“Just so you know, your mom would kick my ass if she saw you licking off her plates.” Roxy just keeps licking.
Climbing up the stairs to my office, my phone chimes with an incoming text.
*I’m heading to the house. Weeks informs me, and I thumb up his message.
*Sounds good. We have some shit to cover. I’ll tell you all about it when you’re back. Plus, we need to get ready for the job.
I close my eyes when I remember the job that’s coming up.
It’s huge. The biggest one I’ve ever had, and it’ll be all hands on deck.
My heart palpitates when I think about it.
So, this is the worst time for all this outside shit to go on.
I need my head in the game. But of course, here I am, head not in the game.
Deciding to take another look at the cameras, I focus on the ones outside the house. With the food missing and whatever glove Rowan spoke of, someone had been here.
My blood boils just thinking about some person entering my home and fucking around in it, not really knowing what all they did while they had free rein.
I watch the screen as Weeks and Rowan leave for Hard Knocks, pushing the button three times the speed.
There is no way I can sit for hours as it slowly moves.
Day turns to night, and nothing is on any of the cameras.
Yawning, I start to get annoyed, but then I see the floodlights in the back of the house turn off.
Clicking the box makes it bigger, honing in, straining my eyes to see.
Not even a minute later, I spot Roxy exiting the doggy door and heading out of eyesight. “What the hell did you hear?”
I slow the recording down, letting all the cameras pop back up.
Roxy doesn’t reenter the frame. My eyes jump from each box, not wanting to miss anything.
I watch the screen for hours, not seeing anything out of the ordinary, when Roxy finally comes back home.
Wishing she could tell me where she went, because I know for a fact that something or someone lured her out of the house.
That’s when I finally notice the backdoor camera has been on the same scene since I turned them on.
“Motherfucker.” I click on the box and as soon as it pops up, I see it. It’s a continuous loop of the previous night's recording. Hindering me from seeing the back door and making it look like nothing is afoot.
Slapping my desk, the motion shakes my screen. I’m angry. Angry at myself for not realizing it sooner and for someone to be able to get into my security system. It’s locked down solid, but somehow, someone could.
“Roxy!” I call out to her. “Come here, girl.” Her nails pitter up the steps as she makes her way to me. Entering with her tail wagging, I pat my leg.
“Whose been out there? You’re supposed to guard the house.
” I pat her belly as she rolls over, wanting to be scratched, and a lightbulb goes off.
Her fucking collar. Abandoning her belly to her dismay, I reach and unclasp her collar.
We gave whoever a free pass inside our home.
I throw it on the desk, the metal dinging, before I run my hands through my beard, thinking.
Standing with force, my chair flies back, scaring Roxy in the process, grabbing her collar, and running down the stairs.
Her on my heels the whole time. Sliding to the back door, swinging it open, I step outside, allowing Roxy to follow.
There is no damn way a man could fit through this opening. Yeah, it’s wide, but there is no way. I use the collar, wave it under the sensor, and hear the doggy door unlock. Like a dumbass, I try to make my way through. But only fits my head and one shoulder.
“What are you doing?” Weeks stands in the hallway looking at me when he starts to laugh like a lunatic.
Before I can yank myself out of the doggy door, the motherfucker has his phone primed and ready, snapping a picture.
“Oh God, wait for the guys to see this one.
You think Thomas in his maid's uniform was something. Baby, this is pure gold.” He cackles like a schoolgirl while pocketing his phone.
“I will kill you. I have acres and acres to hide your body, Weeks.” I grunt at him, trying to maneuver my way back out the doggy door. “Shit,” I mutter softly so he doesn’t hear me.
“Oh, it’ll be worth it, my friend,” he yells from the other side.
Sitting on my ass, I watch as Weeks opens the door, looking down at me. “What the hell are you doing, dude?”
“Someone’s been in my house,” I inform him while I fix my mussed-up hair.
Shock and confusion mar his face. “How the hell? There are cameras everywhere,” he tells me, perplexed. Looking like I feel right now.
I laugh, but it’s anything but for a comical reason, as I stand dusting myself, righting my shirt.
“The one fucking camera we have pointed in this direction was,” I pause, pointing to it, “was put on a loop. Someone was able to get into my system.” My ears become hot from my anger, and my blood pressure rises.
Pacing to the edge of the house, my eyes roam through the trees, needing to spot something, anything.
I pace back to the porch; Weeks' eyes bounce from me to the camera. “That’s not possible. We’ve made sure of that. We have everything locked down.”
“Well, someone did, and I have to find out who.” I sink into the chaise lounger, and the smell of Rowan and her tanning lotion wafts up, invading my nose.
How the hell can I let Rowan come back to this place knowing it’s not as safe as I thought it was? “I can’t let her come back here, Weeks. I can’t put her in danger,” I tell my friend, hoping he’ll give me some clarity about what to do.
Weeks sits on the edge of the fire pit, his eyes not showing any emotion. “You know she won’t let you do that, right? It’s Rowan we're talking about. She runs to the fucking danger.”
He’s right, but I was hoping he’d tell me what the hell to do. I can’t have her stay at the funeral home; I don’t enjoy knowing she’s in such proximity to Catherine. Or that I don’t have my own two eyes on her.