Chapter Seven
My head is still in the clouds when I arrive at my apartment. I just want to soak in a hot bath and reminisce about my perfect trip with Mason. First, I need to call Ian. “Hey girl, I was beginning to wonder about you. Thought he might have you tied to a tree somewhere. How did it go?”
I can’t help the smile on my face, remembering his body arched above me in the moonlight. “It was fun.” I grab my mail and switch the phone to speaker so I can open a thick manila envelope.
“Just fun?”
“We hiked, swam, and went canoeing. Talked a lot.”
“That sounds like a good sign.”
“Oh fuck! No! Goddamn it!” I shout as a pile of photos slide out of the envelope.
“Ev? What’s wrong?” Ian asks, but I barely hear him.
In the first photo, Mason sits with his arm around a thin blonde woman.
Her head is bent, and their hands are clasped.
Another shows him embracing a petite red headed woman, his hand resting on her back.
I don’t want to see the rest. “I have to go. Talk to you later,” I tell Ian, ending the call before he can reply.
When he instantly calls back, I turn off the phone. I have to think.
Maybe the pictures were taken before we were together. I force myself to look through the photos, paying more attention to their surroundings, hoping to see some clue they’re old. Preferably years.
The only thing I notice is they’ve all been taken outdoors. Of course, Mason is an outdoors type of guy. My tears overflow as I picture him stretched out beside the fire, his smile as he motioned for me to join him.
Ian bursts through my front door just as I spot something that steals all my hope.
In the shot of him and the blond, a bank ticker shows the date and time.
May 24, 3:17pm. The day after he supposedly came back to town.
He must’ve met her when he went out for the pizza and movies while I napped.
Right after he swore he wasn’t seeing anyone else and called me his girlfriend.
He lied. There is someone else. God, how many are there?
“Everly,” Ian says softly, embracing me as I try not to cry. His concern pushes me over the edge, and I sob into his neck. I know I’m probably freaking him out. I don’t think he’s seen me cry since I was a kid. “Shh, whatever it is, we’ll figure it out.”
I let him go and shove the pictures toward him. He studies them before asking, “Where did you get these?”
“In the mail. Probably some bitch he’s fucking wants him to herself.”
He picks up the envelope and pulls out a white sheet of paper with one line of bold type across the top. Are you happy being one of his whores?
“Ev, you need to call the cops. This is probably the same person who smashed up your car.”
“I don’t care. She can have him.”
“You’re upset. You aren’t thinking straight. I’m calling the cops. Some crazy bitch could be stalking you. She’s obviously stalking him.”
“And fucking him,” I hiss, my anger overtaking the shock and heartache.
Ian hugs me tight. “You don’t know that.”
“I know he lied. He said he wasn’t seeing anyone else, that all he could think about was me. And my dumb ass fell for it.”
“Stop that shit.” Ian holds me at arms length and his dark eyes burn into mine. “You finally put yourself out there. Maybe it won’t end well this time, but I’m proud of you for trying.”
My phone beeps with a message from Mason.
-Miss you already beautiful.-
Fucking son of a bitch! It’s a wonder my screen doesn’t crack as I type my return message.
-Take me off the list of bitches you sent that message to.-
I quickly take a picture of each of the photos and attach them to the message before sending it.
A few minutes pass, and he starts ringing my phone.
After the second time I send it to my voicemail, Ian snatches it and accepts the call.
“She doesn’t want to talk to you.” Ian moves to the kitchen table, rubbing his temple as Mason talks.
Part of me wants to hear his side even though it won’t change anything.
“She’s safe. You’re the one being followed. I called the cops.” After listening to his response, Ian snorts. “She’ll never go for that. Yeah, I’ll tell her. You need to straighten this shit out, man. You’re breaking her heart.”
Damn it Ian! I flop across from him, shaking my head vehemently and reaching for the phone. He easily dodges my attempts and tells Mason, “Let me know what you find out.”
I glare at him as he ends the call and hands me my phone. “Making a new friend?”
“Shut up, Ev. You aren’t taking this out on me. He needed to know someone was following him. He’s worried you’re in danger and wants to hire a security team.”
“I don’t need his hired goons following me. Why does he give a shit anyway? Did he even try to deny he was with those girls?”
“He said it isn’t what it looks like, and to please call him when you’re ready for him to explain.”
“When hell’s a glacier.” A knock at the door interrupts our conversation, and I go to file another police report.
* * * *
I’ve stayed at Ian’s apartment for nearly a week.
Mason called and texted a few times the first three days, then gave up.
I’m not surprised. I’m sure he’s on to the next gullible woman.
To top it all off, Amy left for New York last night.
Anger has propelled me through my week. Anger at Mason for being a liar, anger at myself for falling for it, anger at the world for being unfair.
Ian insists I stay one more night, and I know he’s still worried over who sent the pictures. I’m sure it was just another woman who wants him, and when she sees we have no contact, she’ll leave me alone.
Alone is all I want to be right now, because as the anger fades, pain seeps in. I miss him. I feel like a psycho, arguing with myself in my head. I miss him. I hate him. He can be so sweet. He’s a lying, cheating asshole. Maybe I should let him explain. Maybe I should throw something at his junk.
I’m driving myself crazy and I need to be alone to sort through the swarm of feelings bombarding me. But arguing with Ian is like running uphill in flip flops. Uncomfortable, exhausting, and pointless. So I agree to one more night.
“Hey, Ev,” Ian greets me, dropping his briefcase on the table. “Have a good day?”
“Pretty good.” I do my best to sound upbeat.
“BTC needed another volunteer to take the kids to The Children’s Museum.
Then we went to the go-cart track. I totally kicked ass.
” It was a fun day. I did my best not to be depressed in front of the kids, but Danny noticed my mood and asked about it.
He backed off quick when I snapped at him to mind his own business.
That was the last time he questioned me about “boyfriend trouble”. “How was your day?”
Ian smiles, stripping off his tie and unbuttoning his shirt cuffs. “I got this hot chick’s number at lunch.”
“Of course you did. I’ll head home tonight, and you can get laid. I’m fine, Ian.”
“I’ll call her tomorrow. Tonight we’re binge watching Supernatural on Netflix and eating our weight in tacos. So get to cooking.”
I smack him on the arm as he tries to dodge me. “Since you asked so nicely.”
“I’m always nice.”
The rattle of pots and pans echoes through the house as I hunt for a decent skillet, and Ian heads off to shower and change. He sucks down half a dozen tacos, but I only manage one. Apparently, my appetite receded along with my anger.
“Hey, turn back to the news,” I tell Ian as he channel surfs.
The headline story is the capture of The Naked Bandits.
Apparently, the FBI was one step ahead of them, and now they’re all under arrest. Was it less than a month ago that I stood naked in that bank, humiliated while Mason protected me from the bandits and other prying eyes? He’s become important to me so fast.
“At least no one got hurt,” Ian remarks, and I grunt noncommittally. I’m hurt.
After a few hours of watching Sam and Dean salt and burn the bones, I’m done. I’ve hardly paid them the attention they deserve anyway. When I turn to tell Ian I’m going to bed, he doesn’t give me the chance. His warm arms embrace me and to my horror, I instantly start crying.
He tightens his hold when I try to pull away. “It’s okay, pup. Okay to miss him. Okay to be upset.”
“It’s not. I’ve known him less than a month. It’s ridiculous.”
“It’s enough time to know you love someone and mourn the loss of it.”
My arms lock around his waist and I rest my head on his shoulder. “I don’t love him.”
“Okay.”
“I just want to forget him. It was a mistake. Now I can’t go back to Striking Back.”
“I talked to him today. He’s leaving town tomorrow for a few days. He won’t show up at Striking Back.”
At least I can say goodbye to everyone. I sit up and glare at Ian. “Why are you talking to him?”
“He wanted to know if you’d gotten any more threats. He’s still trying to track down who did it.” Ian’s voice softens. “He’s waiting to hear from you. For what it’s worth, he sounds miserable.”
“It’s worth nothing. Whose side are you on?” I demand, furious he’s defending him.
“Yours, honey. Always yours. Come on, let’s go to bed. You can sleep with me tonight. I’ll cuddle you if you can keep your hands to yourself.”
“That’s got to be the first time you’ve said that to a girl,” I snort.
Wrapped in Ian’s warm arms, I feel better, a little less lonely. But as I drift off to sleep I dream of thick biceps covered in tattoo flowers.
I wake with a new determination to get on with my life. It’s not the first time I’ve had my heart broken. Maybe someday I’ll actually learn from it. Ian makes me promise to call him every day when he drops me at my apartment.
At least I have my book group as a distraction. I don’t want to spend any more time thinking about Mason. After a quick shower, I head to Bellini’s to meet up with everyone. The back dining room is buzzing with laughter and conversation as the half lit women discuss the latest erotica book.