Chapter 15
Piper
My eyes flutter open. It takes me a minute to remember where I am.
It all comes flashing back to me and I sit up so fast that I almost sprain my neck.
Wincing and lifting my arms over my head, I stretch.
My back muscles are always so tight. Meg tells me I should go get a massage, but honestly the thought of having a stranger touch my naked back doesn’t make me feel relaxed.
The door to my office is closed, but I can hear someone with a drill out in the cafe. I rub my face and take a quick look in the mirror that is hanging next to the door.
“Well, it could be worse,” I mutter as I run my fingers through my hair and rub my face with my hands. I step out into the little hallway and walk towards the cafe. I pause at the edge of the room and take stock of what is happening.
I see Carter in the same spot he was in before my nap, scowling at the computer.
Sterling is talking to one of my customers in the corner and Holt is manning the drill I heard.
The glass has been cleaned up, and he somehow got his hands on a sheet of plywood.
He finishes closing up the hole where the window once was.
He turns around and sees me. Immediately he sets down the drill and walks over to me.
“You okay,” he asks lowly when he reaches me. His hand reaches up to cup my cheek. His calloused thumb rubbing across my cheek makes me shiver. I can’t keep eye contact with him for long before I look away. I feel my cheeks get warm.
“I’m good,” I answer, because really, what else can I say. Honestly, I’m confused and tired. I have no idea what is going on, it has been a long week, and I’m starting to wonder if I really am in some kind of danger. As soon as the thought crosses my mind, I immediately push it aside.
I hardly live a high risk lifestyle. I haven’t dated anyone in forever so no crazy ex-boyfriends.
I am having a difficult time even entertaining the idea.
Holt’s hand moves up to brush my too long bangs behind my ear.
I have to remind myself not to lean into his touch like some starved for affection kitten in a back alley.
“None of your customers really saw anything. Someone thought they may have seen a car but they couldn’t really give us a make or a model,” Holt explains. I am trying to focus on his words and not the fact that he keeps finding excuses to touch me. Maybe I’m imagining it.
“We figured out what they used to smash your window,” Holt shares. His jaw clenches and I wonder if he has ever cracked a tooth. I look up at him, in a silent question.
“Whoever they were, they tossed a brick through it,” he looks so angry. I can’t stop my mouth from speaking.
“Original, did they tie a note to it first,” I ask jokingly. His eyebrow lifts and he smirks a bit, but my comment doesn’t really alleviate the tension behind his crystal blue eyes.
“Piper, we need to figure out what is going on,” he sighs. Holt is deadly serious. I am kind of surprised, Holt is usually the more lighthearted of the group.
“Well, I didn’t think my coffee was that bad. Maybe they were trying to send a message,” I state casually. Holt sighs. He opens his mouth as if to respond but before he can say anything his attention turns to the phone buzzing in his back pocket. I watch him pull it out and immediately answer it.
“Yeah, thanks Sheriff,” he pauses and looks down at me again before replying. “She doesn’t seem to have any idea who could be behind it,” Holt sounds frustrated. On top of my confusion, I also feel bad that I can’t seem to help him solve this mystery.
“Yeah, we are still here. She is going to close up early today. Right after the lunch rush,” I raise my eyebrow and part of me wants to argue.
The other part of me is kind of relieved.
I need a little extra time to process this and to figure out how to get the door fixed.
I also want to sleep for another 8 hours.
“It will be around 1—yeah, that works,” Holt hangs up. I am waiting for him to fill me in. I look up at him, expectantly. He sighs again.
“He will be before 1 to get your statement,” he explains. My mouth gapes open and words start to tumble out of my mouth.
“A statement—what the hell am I supposed to say? I don’t know what is happening,” the emotions that I have been trying to keep under lock and key try to break free. Holt is rubbing my back.
“Then you say exactly that, it is okay that you don’t have the answer Piper. No one is expecting you to,” he says calmly. I take a deep breath and try to regulate myself.
“I’m sorry, I just don’t understand what is going on. I should be thanking you for your help. I’m sure you have other things you could be doing,” I’m embarrassed. I don’t normally lose my composure.
My hand automatically goes up to my hair. I nervously start tugging and twirling it between my index and middle fingers-a habit I haven’t been able to kick since I was a kid. Holt’s hand moves up interrupt my fingers from their assault on the poor lock of hair.