Chapter 18 #2
“Why? I’m safe here, right? I mean, that was the whole point of coming here.”
“Yes, but I’m still not leaving you alone until we catch that motherfucker.” He glanced at the bed. “It’s a king-sized bed…there’s room enough for both of us.”
I dropped down to sit on the edge of the bed as a myriad of questions swirled in my mind. I settled on the one that kept popping to the forefront.
“I thought you didn’t allow women to sleep over?”
He rolled his eyes at me, then shook the wrinkles out of a T-shirt and hung it up in the closet.
“With random women or club bunnies, I don’t. You’re different.”
My heart melted for a split second until the voice of reason kicked in. I was different because I was Uncle Bill’s family, and I needed protection from a stalker. That’s all.
Once he finished putting his things away, he led me over to the loveseat, then settled down next to me as he filled me in on his discussion with King and the others.
“Beau’s being careful. He must be using cash since he’s not used his debit or credit cards since this morning at a coffee shop in Pittsburgh.
That makes it almost impossible to find him unless he slips up.
He’s due back at work Friday morning, so we’ll see if he shows up.
At least we’ll know he’s back in Pittsburgh then. ”
“He always carries a lot of cash. It’s a way to show off, more than anything, I think.” I told him with a grimace. The more I thought about how much of an ass he could be, the more I questioned my judgement in staying with him for so long.
“I don’t want you going to the studio tomorrow.” Trick seemed to be bracing for an argument, but I wasn’t going to give him one.
“I’ve already cancelled my booth rental. I’ll lose the deposit, but I don’t think I’d be able to concentrate enough to be productive anyway.”
Trick nodded in relief, then took a deep breath. “If Bull can’t find anything by remote access that links Beau to the emails, hacking Brick’s system, or trying to break into your place tonight, then King and I are going to head to Pittsburgh as soon as Beau shows up there.”
I started to object, but Trick held up one hand to silence me.
“Listen, darlin’, we can’t let this go on indefinitely. If that means that we have to force a confession out of him, that’s what we’ll do. We’re going to take care of that sonofabitch, one way or another,” he finished grimly.
“Since we don’t have any proof that Beau’s even in Indianapolis, do you think it’s possible that he hired someone local to break in?”
Trick shook his head. “Bull did some research into the mindset of stalkers. According to the FBI profilers, those assholes need to feed their obsession by doing it themselves. They’re usually possessive, so they wouldn’t want anyone else around their target, either.
That tracks, especially given how jealous your ex is.
So, yeah, there’s a slight chance that he could have hired someone, but it’s highly doubtful. ”
I didn’t know if that made the situation better or worse.
“Bull has an alert set if any more emails come in from either Beau’s personal account or that fuckin’ soulmate shit. He’ll let us know if anything pops up.”
I nodded, then let out a yawn, and Trick chuckled.
“It’s getting late, darlin’, and we’ve had one hell of an evening. Let’s try to get some sleep.”
I went into the bathroom to change into shorts and a T-shirt to sleep in, feeling strangely uncomfortable getting undressed in front of Trick if sex wasn’t involved.
When I opened the bathroom door, Trick was already in bed on the side closest to the door. His gun and his switchblade were both on top of the nightstand, and I did my best to ignore them as I went around to the other side of the bed.
Trick rolled over toward me and gave me a quick kiss on the lips.
“Goodnight, darlin’.
He rolled back over before I could say anything more than a simple “goodnight” right back.
After laying there stiffly for far longer than I should have, I finally drifted off only to awaken a little while later gasping for air, with my skin clammy and my heart pounding out of my chest. I couldn’t remember the nightmare in any kind of detail, but the lingering feeling of terror was enough to leave me unable to close my eyes and relax.
The sound of Trick lightly snoring next to me was oddly comforting, and it eventually lulled me back to sleep.
I was jerked awake in the middle of the night, this time by Trick. He was moving around restlessly, thrashing his head from side to side on his pillow.
“Leave her alone,” he mumbled, then made a pained sound deep in his throat.
“Trick,” I whispered urgently, resisting the urge to reach out and shake his shoulder to wake him.
A man I’d worked with at the radio station in college had come into work one morning with a black eye, courtesy of his wife who suffered from night terrors. He’d made the mistake of touching her during one of her nightmares, and she’d punched him in her sleep.
“Trick,” I called his name loudly this time since the first time hadn’t worked.
He awoke with a start, instantly alert.
“What’s wrong?” He flipped on the bedside lamp, then sat up and looked around the room as if trying to spot the danger.
“You…” I hesitated. “I think you were having a nightmare.”
He dropped his gaze to the bed and his shoulders slumped. He exhaled heavily, then nodded.
“It won’t happen again. Sorry I woke you, just go back to sleep.”