39. Chapter 39
Chapter 39
Rina
My stubborn tendencies may have taken things too far this time.
Planning this sounded easy. Getting information felt like a necessity, especially with other women in jeopardy. But as I’m sitting here attempting to eat a bite of my steak, I’m second-guessing everything.
Tyler’s anger and aggressiveness from the last time I saw him are nowhere to be seen, but there’s something lurking just under the surface. His smarmy smirk sends a tremor down my spine every time its attention is focused on me.
“Sooo…” I know I need to push conversation with him, but all I want to do is run far away and straight into Arlo’s arms. “How’s work going?”
“The usual, nothing exciting. I’d rather talk about you and why you ghosted me.” There’s the aggression. His tone is firm and annoyed.
“The man I was with, he’s from my past and I needed … closure. There was some bad blood, and I wanted to hear him out, but that-that wasn’t fair to you. I apologize.” Do I sound earnest enough? God, I hope so.
He holds my stare for an extended moment, and all I can do is hold my breath and hope he believes me. Everything relies on this.
“Is he out of your life now?” His curiosity shines through his attempt at a bored tone .
It physically hurts me to give him the answer I need to, especially after our conversation at the falls earlier. “Completely out. It was just for closure, I promise.”
He pops a piece of steak in his mouth, chewing slowly as he contemplates if I’m being truthful or not, I assume.
“Let’s start fresh. I’d like to just forget about the last time we saw each other. I wasn’t at my best,” he says.
“We can do that.”
“How’s business going? Had any interesting requests lately?”
It’s an odd question and very specific. I build furniture and that’s not a question that’s common, but it instantly brings the request for my dream bed to my head. Is he digging for that? Does he want my reaction to receiving that weird-as-fuck request?
“Umm, I had one that was kind of flattering.” It wasn’t, but if it gets him more comfortable opening up to me, I have to run with it. “They wanted me to construct my dream bed. It’s not something I’ve really thought of, so I haven’t gotten back to them yet. I need to come up with a plan first.” I smile.
The small smirk on his face tells me I did well and fed right into what he wanted.
“A very interesting request. You’ll have to keep me updated on the progress of that one.” He takes a small sip of his drink, and I hold in the cringe that wants to break free. I’ve never been more aware that I rarely hide my emotions on my face and how hard it is to hide them right now.
“Absolutely.”
He talks about mundane things for most of dinner, nothing too in depth, and I’m thankful because I’m trying to figure out how to broach the subject of getting in his house. I know that’s where I’ll get the most information, whether it’s from what I see or from him being more comfortable in the privacy of his home.
There’s a lull in the conversation, and I decide to go for it. If I have to sit here any longer and fake it, he’ll catch on to my disgust and fear of being in his presence.
“Would it be possible to take this somewhere more private?” I go for sultry, although I’m not sure I pull it off.
He tilts his head as he looks at me. Right now would be a great time to be able to read minds, but unfortunately, I’m just a plain old boring human.
“Where did you have in mind?” Damnit, he’s not taking the bait as easily as I hoped he would.
“Well, I don’t live here, so we can’t exactly go back to my place. Maybe yours?”
God, I hope that wasn’t too forward.
“You want to come back to my house?” I almost fist pump at the excitement peeking through his question.
“I would love to. You know, get to know you a little better but not in such a crowded place.” I subtly look around and realize that was stupid to say because it’s a nice steakhouse. It’s not overly crowded or obnoxiously loud. I’m really bad at this covert work, and I hope I don’t fuck this whole plan up.
“Let me just grab the check.” He makes a big show of pulling out his wallet and flagging down our waiter. I watch once he gets his card back and see him barely leave a ten percent tip. What a fucking asshole.
“Let's go,” he snips as he shoves his chair back. His abrupt change in tone starts my heart racing. Adrenaline floods my veins, and I try to use Arlo’s breathing technique to calm myself down. This was only the first step, the easiest step, and now I need to be the badass I always claim to be.
I start walking to my truck, but he pulls me in the opposite direction.
“Where are you going?” he sneers.
“To my truck? I was just going to follow you.”
“I’ll drive, and then when you want to go home, I’ll drop you off back here or you can just grab a ride share.” He doesn’t leave me any options, and I have a feeling if I push this issue, he’ll give up and I’ll lose the chance to end this.
“Sure, sounds great.”
The drive to his house is a mix of not shoving his hand off my thigh, as well as listening to him brag about all the jobs he’s gotten recently. He name-drops some big animation companies, and I roll my lips together to stop myself from saying something sarcastic and ruining this whole thing.
We pull up to a fairly standard house for the area, in a nice neighborhood, and it just confuses me more. He brags about all his money and flashes expensive shit around like it’s his job, yet this is the most average house on the block.
“I wasn’t expecting you to want to come here, so excuse the mess,” he says before he climbs out of his car and heads to the front door.
Well, in this case, chivalry is well and truly dead, I guess. Not that I’m surprised.
I shove my way out of his car and walk to catch up to him as he opens the front door.
The inside is like eighties floral threw up on all the textiles. The mash of patterns is nauseating and puzzling. It’s nothing like I pictured when thinking about the pretentiousness that’s Tyler. I expected a classic bachelor pad, all steel and leather.
“It’s nice,” I say cautiously.
“I’m in the process of remodeling. It was my mother’s house, and it is desperately in need of a change.”
“I see.” I’m not sure how I’m supposed to respond, so I keep it neutral.
“Do you want a tour?”
Yes! I scream internally. “Sure.” I keep my tone interested but calm.
He walks me through the main area, points out the obvious spaces, like the kitchen and dining room, before heading down a dark hallway. It’s eerie, and I’m waiting for the jump scare. This is how all scary movies go, so I figure it’s just a matter of time before I get hit with one.
“Spare bedroom, bathroom, office…” He trails off as we reach his office and starts to shut the door, which I find odd.
What I catch a glimpse of inside changes everything. My breath catches, and the blood drains from my face before I remember I need to continue the charade. Just seeing a wall covered with pictures of me, as well as other women, isn’t proof. It will be once they execute the warrant, but I don’t think it’s strong enough. It doesn’t prove anything other than him being obsessed. I need something to nail his ass, to ensure he ends up in jail and doesn’t get to leave.
I clear my throat. “It’s a very spacious house. No wonder you wanted to keep it.”
He snorts. “I’d tear down the whole damn thing if I could, but free housing is free housing.”
I nod, unsure of what to do next.
“And this is my bedroom.” He walks into the room at the very end of the hall, and I reluctantly follow him. The smarmy look on his face makes my skin crawl, and with sudden clarity, I realize I’m all alone in his room with no clear way out if things go south.
Terror. Anxiety. Regret. All of them hit my square in the chest, and I wonder why I was so fucking stubborn and thought this was a good idea.
I look around aimlessly and slowly start moving my hand into my purse. Maybe if I can grab my phone, I can send an S.O.S. text to Arlo.
“Are you uncomfortable?” Tyler’s voice halts my movements. “You wanted to come here; I thought this was what you wanted.” The way he says it isn’t friendly or understanding, it’s sinister and full of anger.
“I-I—”
“You can’t take it back now, Marina. You’re mine,” he sneers before he lunges for me.