Chapter Thirty-Three #2
Vivian let the quiet hang on the phone call between them. “Want to tell me what else is going on?”
His molars clamped so tight his temples ached. “Not really.”
Wes smirked from the chair on the opposite side of the room. “Does Viv want to know about you and Jules?”
Rhys tossed his middle finger at Wes again.
The chair scraped along the floor when Wes pushed up, and he crossed the space and clapped a hand on Rhys’s shoulder. “You, my friend, are too close to this. You just told me that. I don’t even know what Viv’s saying, but you know I’m right.”
He shrugged out of his buddy’s embrace.
“Is that Wes?” Viv asked.
“Yeah, it’s him,” Rhys muttered. “Acting like an ass.”
“Put me on speakerphone.”
Damn it, Wes. Rhys groaned. He didn’t have time for this bullshit. He needed to track down Jules and find out what she’d been told. Then they could head to her parents’ house and figure out their next move.
“What’s the problem?” Viv demanded. “Speakerphone, Callaghan.”
Rhys pinched the bridge of his nose but tapped the screen. “Done.”
“Wes?”
“Here.” Wes plopped into the chair again, smiling like he thought the entire situation funny. “What’s up, boss?”
“That’s what I want to know.”
“Nothing much,” Wes said. “Didn’t look like Jules was able to identify anyone from the video footage. Rhys is climbing the walls to figure out who he needs to kill.”
Rhys growled a warning to shut up.
Wes’s grin grew larger the more Rhys glowered. “You know what, Viv?”
“No,” she snapped. “I don’t know what the hell you two are jabbering about.”
“Rhys thinks I should take over future event security.”
Rhys glared. They didn’t have any events for several weeks, so there was no need to loop Vivian in yet. Then again, why not, when Wes could have this much fun at his expense? “I’m going to kill you before I get to anyone else,” he muttered.
“You going to explain yourself, Callaghan?”
No. He wasn’t. Not right now.
“Rhys might need one of your legendary relationship chats,” Wes managed, choking on laughter.
Yeah, Wes was a dead man.
Whatever he saw on Rhys’s face made him laugh harder. Or maybe that was Vivian’s silence. When she zipped her lips, Rhys had a problem. The quiet lingered, making his problem grow to epic proportions.
“Why do you think that?” Vivian finally managed.
“Yeah, Rhys,” Wes said. “Why might I think that?”
He’d wipe that shit-eating grin off his buddy’s face when their boss wasn’t listening. “No reason.”
“Dum dum da-dum,” Wes hummed a wedding ditty, somehow still laughing, still smiling, still unaware that Rhys was seconds away from forcing his mouth shut.
“I can’t deal with you two,” Vivian snapped. “Rhys, you and I will chat later.”
A headache pulsed behind his eyes. “Got it.”
“In the meantime, both of you, stick with Jules Lowry like you’re a scar that can’t fade. Do you understand me?”
They muttered an affirmative, and Rhys pocketed his phone. “One day, when you least expect it, there will be a woman you can’t walk away from.”
“Right. Like that would ever happen. I don’t do relationships.” Wes opened the door. Bright fluorescent light flooded into the small viewing room. “But you do. Let’s get your girl, see what she needs, then grab a beer.”
Rhys grumbled. Those three things were exactly what he needed to do. Not that he’d give Wes an iota of agreement.
“Come on, big guy. Don’t fight it. You know this whole thing is funny.”
“A stalker and the fire? Not funny. You know what is? Absolutely jack shit.”
“Nope. I’ve been predicting you and Jules would get together for years.” Wes preened. “ Years .”
Wes wasn’t wrong, but Rhys ignored him.
They followed the hallway until they found Jules with Sloane in a private conference room with their heads bent together. When Jules tipped her head back, her eyes were red-rimmed and glassy. She’d been crying. Tear streaks stained her cheeks.
She fell into Rhys’s arms. He gathered her close and let her bury her face in his chest. Jules wasn’t performing, wasn’t managing emotions. She just fell apart against him like he was the only place that made sense.
“It’s okay.” Rhys stroked the back of her head. “Everything will be okay.” But he eyed Sloane, mouthing, “What happened?”
“She held it together until now,” Sloane whispered.
He held her close. “Where do you want to go, baby?”
“My parents’.”
“Wes and I will take you there.”
“I’ll meet you over there,” Sloane said. “Abigail needs backup. Tabitha is in full drama mode. Your mom can’t handle much more.”
Jules inched out of his arms. “They think it’s Mason. That he’s behind all this.”
Rhys would keep his opinions to himself until someone convinced him otherwise.
He had a mental catalog of every interaction with Mason and with Tabitha.
Mason couldn’t get enough attention and never wanted Jules for the right reasons.
Tabitha had a diabolical streak. Then again, her cunning had always been lacking.
Her behavior was obvious when she thought she was sly.
Her neediness aggravated everyone. The Lowrys put up with her because of the family connection.
Well, hell. Now, Rhys was talking himself out of Tabitha’s involvement as well as Mason’s.