Chapter Eight
Remy
I drive home from my surveillance mission.
I caught a man playing basketball with his son while suing his employer because he slipped on a wet floor that hadn’t been marked with cones or signs.
Once I forward the photographs to my client, their business will use them during the ongoing trial, no doubt ending things then and there.
I hate cases of insurance fraud. People using fake injuries to defraud the companies for cash disgust me, not just because it’s wrong but every time they succeed, they make it harder for those truly hurt to be compensated the amount they deserve.
Missing people satisfies something in my soul but when those jobs are scarce, which is a good thing, Zach and I often help companies prove illegitimate claims.
It’s not that either Zach or I need the money. We each come from wealthy families and our college hacking venture led to us meeting important contacts, one of whom purchased the anti-hacking software we developed, paying a huge amount of money.
As a result, both Zach and I are wealthy in our own right but we’re not lazy and like to work. Admittedly, I enjoy the job more when I don’t have a willing woman waiting for me but I’m on my way to Raven’s now.
I’m drumming my fingers against the steering wheel in time to the beat of the music on the radio when my cell phone rings and the name of the alarm monitoring company shows on the dashboard screen. The clock nearby says it’s nearly eleven.
I answer via Bluetooth speaker. “Remy Sterling here.” The bar occasionally has alarm faults and I’m used to these calls.
“Mr. Sterling, this is Paul with Alpha Monitoring. What is your security code?”
The company is required to hear the code in order to know they’re relaying information to the right person.
“Gloria,” I say, a pang twisting my stomach as I speak my mother’s name. Once I took over the New York City bar, it made sense for me to change the code to something I’ll easily remember.
“Thank you. The alarm at The Back Door was triggered. Zone 24, far back apartment window, glass break. The police have been dispatched.”
I’ve made it my business to know the zones in case of an emergency and this is Raven’s apartment, her bedroom window.
“Thanks,” I mutter and disconnect the call. Ignoring my increased heart rate and the panic that spreads through me, I press my foot on the accelerator, instructing my vehicle to call Raven’s cell phone.
It goes straight to voicemail and the ride from Cliffside Park, New Jersey, to Manhattan feels twice as long. I drive well over the speed limit, my pulse hammering in my throat the entire way.
As far as I know, Lance is still behind bars, and I hang on to that thought, pushing aside his assault on Emily and his attempt on Raven.
By the time I finally pull up to the back parking lot, park and rush to the bar door, my nerves are shot.
I’m glad the main entrance is in the rear, hence the name of the bar, so I don’t have to waste time going around to the front of the building after parking.
A uniformed cop stands at the patron entrance. I flash my license and explain I own the place and am close friends with the tenant.
“Remy?” Raven’s voice calls out to me and the officer steps aside.
I take three steps and Raven comes running, crashing into me and wrapping herself around me like a spider monkey.
“I’ve got you,” I murmur, as I hold on to her, giving her the time she needs to calm down. Time I need as well.
Raven holds on to me, breathing hard into my neck.
“Ma’am?” The voice comes from farther inside the bar.
Raven releases her hold and turns, but I’m not ready to let go and pull her against me, so we face the second officer together.
“Yes?” she asks.
Despite my desire to take over, I know Raven needs control so I keep her tucked against me, taking what I need, too.
“The apartment is clear,” the uniformed man says. “Nobody was inside but the window is shattered. It’s unlikely anyone could have crawled through the glass without being cut up and leaving a trace of blood. But we still need you to look around and see if anything is missing.”
She stiffens against me.
“Come on. I’ll go with you,” I say.
She draws a deep breath and I watch from the corner of my eye as she pauses.
I have no doubt she’s mentally arguing with herself until she nods, straightens her shoulders, and steps out of my embrace.
On her own, like the brave woman I know her to be, she walks toward the back of the bar.
She might be shaking inside but she’s pulled herself together and while I’m glad, I know that means she no longer needs me.
Nor would she show any further weakness.
Once in the hall outside her open door, she steps inside and looks around, then makes her way toward the bed.
“Look, don’t touch. We don’t want to mess with anything forensics might discover,” the officer says.
I do my best not to roll my eyes. Of course, they’ll find Raven’s fingerprints all over her own apartment but I let the officer maintain his jurisdiction over the scene.
Raven takes in her bedroom and the destruction near her bed. “My jewelry is still on the dresser, my laptop is on the nightstand that isn’t near the window.” She pauses, still glancing around. “My Kindle is on the bed…” She shakes her head. “Nothing seems missing… Oh my God.”
I glance over to see she’s lost all color in her cheeks. “Raven?”
She walks stiffly to the window, stopping near the broken glass on the floor. Coming up beside her, I place a hand on her shoulder, and she flinches.
“Sorry,” she mutters. “You startled me.”
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
The police officer stands off to one side, his gaze narrowed, watching us intently.
She points toward the shattered glass with items lying among the shards.
“That broken piece. It’s a collectible Caleb got me for my birthday.
I think I was around fifteen. He gave me a Daenerys Targaryen Funko Pop.
You know, from Game of Thrones. I loved the show and that present set a precedent for each birthday after.
It was our special thing. Whatever I was into, Caleb managed to find a matching gift. ”
“Who’s Caleb?” the cop asks, his phone out, finger hovering to type important notes.
I glare at him. “Her brother, Caleb Kane. Now let her get through this her way.”
“Officer Jones.” A familiar man in a sport jacket walks in and snaps at the younger cop who immediately clenches his jaw but straightens his shoulders. “I’ll take over.”
I breathe out a sigh of relief. “Detective Garrett Lewis. How are you?”
My old friend on the force shakes my hand. “I heard your name over the police radio. I was in the neighborhood, so here I am.”
I’m grateful. “Garrett, this is Raven Walsh. She’s renting the unit. Raven, this is an old friend of mine. Detective Lewis.”
Garrett treats Raven to an understanding smile that never fails to calm a victim.
“Hi, Detective.” She swallows hard.
“Seems like you were explaining something when I walked in. Why don’t you go on?”
I put a hand on her lower back, keeping my touch light, to encourage her.
She nods. “I was saying, my brother bought me that broken collectible.” She gestures to the blonde doll-like figure lying amid the glass.
She tucks a strand of hair that has fallen from her ponytail behind her ear.
“He also bought me the matching collection of Edgar Allan Poe Funko Pops when I got older and more into dark stories, and look.” She points to her nightstand, also covered with glass. “Poe’s head is broken off his body.”
“Shattering glass wouldn’t have done that damage,” Garrett mutters.
“Lance, on the other hand, would. And he has.” She speaks with deliberate precision, clearly forcing herself to keep it together and not show her panic.
“What do you mean, he has?” Garrett asks.
She rubs both her arms with her hands. “He did the same thing to my first Funko. He broke Daenerys’ head and put it in my bed. He’d just seen The Godfather.”
Garrett meets my gaze and I know, without words, what my friend is thinking. No sane man would replicate the horse’s head scene in The Godfather.
“Caleb replaced the doll but the damage was done… at least in my mind. Lance liked to terrorize me.”
While I grasp both her cold hands in mine, Garrett asks, “Who is Lance?”
“Her other brother. He’s Caleb’s twin and he’s a sociopath. He’s been doing time for attempted rape and assault but she got word from her brother he was getting out early.”
“I thought I had time before they let him out,” she says.
“Normally, the department of corrections calls the victim and gives them a heads-up,” Garrett says. “As long as they’ve registered their information with the state.”
She nods. “But I wasn’t the victim, my roommate was. I was the star witness.” She spins to face him. “Emily! Someone needs to make sure she knows about Lance.”
“Maybe someone already did.” Garrett makes notes in his cell phone. “Look, I need to find out if Lance has been released before we can question him.”
I set my jaw then speak. “If he hasn’t been let out yet, then he sent one of his minions.” I explain to Garrett how Lance kept an eye on Raven until she moved here.
“We’ll make sure she’s okay,” Garrett promises.
A knock sounds on the bedroom door. “Forensics,” a redheaded woman says, walking inside the room with her bag and kit.
“We need to let her do her job. Raven, do you have some place to stay?” Garrett asks.
“She’s staying with me,” I say in a definitive tone that brooks no argument. If Raven wants to fight me, she’ll discover my stubborn side. When it comes to her safety, I won’t give in.
* * *
Raven
Remy leads me outside the bedroom of horrors that I’ll never be comfortable in again. Once in my family room, I can catch my breath. Actually, I began to breathe the minute I heard Remy’s voice.
I look around the apartment like I’ve never seen the place before.
“We’re leaving town,” Remy says.
I blink, startled out of my thoughts. “What? No.”
My words surprise me. For years, I’ve told myself when Lance is released, I’ll run, so I’m shocked to discover, at the mention of doing just that, my spine straightens and I shake my head.
“You want to stay?” he asks, surprised.
I raise my chin. “This is my life and I’m going to fight for it.”
A slow smile lifts his lips, his eyes warm as he meets my gaze. “Okay. Then at least come stay with me so we know you’re safe. Let’s see how things play out.”
Instinct would have me saying no, I can handle myself, but I’ve read too many books where the heroine is, as readers like to call it, too stupid to live. I might be wary of getting too close to Remy but I’d be a fool to fight him when it’s in my best interest to go somewhere safe.
“Okay. After how easily Lance broke in and touched my things, I doubt I’ll feel safe staying there alone again. So yes, until I can figure out my next steps, I’ll go with you,” I say.
His wide smile tells me he thinks he’s won a huge victory. I shake my head and don’t reply.
“Forensics won’t let you back in while they’re working. I’ll just have Fallon drop off some clothes for you in the morning.”
It’s a testament to how freaked out I am that I don’t argue with him.
A little while later, once the police take my cell phone number and find out where I’ll be staying, Remy and I finally walk into his apartment. The place is familiar since I’ve eaten dinner with him and done oh so much more.
He stops short in the hallway leading to his room. “For tonight you can borrow a T-shirt from me. I’ve already texted Fallon and she said she would drop off clothes and toiletries in the morning.”
“I hate to put her out,” I say, the idea of being an imposition finally dawning on me.
“Fallon is happy to help.” He gestures to his bedroom and says, “Ladies first.”
I didn’t know what to expect but that wasn’t it. “Remy, I’m not sure me sleeping in your room is a good idea.”
He leans a shoulder against the doorframe and faces me. After a full day, he has sexy facial scruff and his eyes are heavy-lidded. “Are you still upset? Scared or worried?” he asks.
I release the lower lip I didn’t realize I’d pulled between my teeth. “Yes.”
“And are we still friends with benefits?” He raises his eyebrows, the question clearly important to him.
I nod.
“And friends help friends out. You don’t need to be alone tonight, or any night you’re here. Won’t you feel safer with me?”
I sigh. “Of course. But—”
“But nothing. Tonight, all I want to do is hold you so you can relax. Got any objection to that?” he asks.
“Of course not.” How can I say otherwise? “But, Remy?”
“Yes, Raven?” His lips lift in a knowing smirk.
I roll my eyes at his mocking attitude. “Just because we’re sharing a room, a bed, and after tonight, probably having sex—”
“Definitely having sex.”
I shake my head at his bold claim. “Fine, definitely having sex, that doesn’t mean anything’s changed. We’re still not in a relationship.”
Ignoring the slight twitch in his eye isn’t easy.
I don’t want to hurt him. I just need to hang on to that piece of independence I might need if Lance decides to go after anyone else I care about.
Because in that case, I’d be out of here without looking back, and I can’t let myself get emotionally attached, I think, ignoring the little voice that tells me I already have.