She looks sideways, not meeting my eyes. “There’s more to that story, but it’s really not my place to tell you that. And it probably doesn't even matter anymore since they grew apart. Although they grew to feel like they were family with the others, their prior relationship stopped them from ever feeling like brothers. Holden is still extremely conflicted about it, but he hides it well. Oliver channeled all his emotions into his art, while Holden lost himself in his music and some other… recreational choices. He’s got himself under more control now.”
I can feel my brows furrowing in confusion, a small frown appearing. What the hell is she talking about? Before I can question her, she quickly moves on.
“To sum it up before your head explodes with all this information, Thomas, Kai, Holden, and Oliver are all the same age but have been with Brad for different amounts of times. Declan is the oldest and the twins the youngest. That’s pretty much it for the Summers. Now, let's talk you. What are you going to do now that this interview went to shit?”
“Fuck, I don’t know what to do. Maybe I'll just finish up my visit and head home. Brad and I are establishing a pretty strong foundation, and I'm sure we can continue that long distance. I mean, there’s Skype and Facetime, and he owns an airline, for God’s sake. Maybe this is just another sign of it not being meant to be.”
“Harlow, I don't think you should be going anywhere until the police have worked out this stalker stuff.” Her eyes are creased with worry, and there's a small frown on her brow.
“Maybe all of that would stop if I just returned home. Nothing happened until I came here.” She shakes her head adamantly, the frown growing deeper.
“I’m telling you, Jacinta is a lot of things, catty and distrustful just to name two, but she's not a psycho. She wouldneverhave sent you that picture of your pony. Even if the creepy shit didn’t start until you came to LA, that doesn’t mean that the stalker is from here. Who knows what made them start acting out now? No, best you wait and see what the detectives can work out. In the meantime, I happily volunteer to chaperone all the dinner dates and club hopping you can stand!”
Conversation changes to much more mundane things after that. She tells me a little of her upbringing and how she and Holden met in college. Turns out they bonded over shared assignments and a love of music.
A few hours later, after we dragged out the meal, drinks, and dessert, where we talked enough to now feel like I have another bestie, we’re walking back to where I parked the Vanquish when I notice a crowd of people surrounding the car.
“I wonder what that's about?” I say to Hope, a little confused. Oliver does have vanity plates saying NP Ink. Could it be paparazzi?
Hope pushes her way through the crowd of people, towing me along behind, her hand on my wrist. But both of us come to an abrupt stop when we see what they're looking at.
“Holy shit.” The words hiss out of Hope’s mouth as we both look on, stunned by the sight in front of us. Oliver’s car is covered in paint. Words like whore, slut, and go home are branded all over the vehicle in red paint. The tires are slashed and the windows smashed. In short, the car is trashed.
“Oh my god, Oliver is going tokillme.” My heart is racing with worry over both Oliver’s reaction and this. Is this the same person who did all the other things? Just as I say that, a cop car pulls into the parking lot, blue and red lights flashing, and two officers hop out.
The crowd begins to drift away as the officers approach us. “Does one of you own this car?” one of the cops stops and questions while the other strolls around the vehicle, his flashlight shining into the windows.
“Ah, well, I was driving it, but it belongs to a friend.” I stammer a little bit, still in shock at the vicious sight. I sink down onto the sidewalk, not caring if I’m flashing anyone in my short skirt, dropping my head into my hands.God, this is not what I wanted to do tonight.Seriously, this was supposed to be a night of no worries. I’m about to get back up and deal with everything, but Hope comes to the rescue. She instantly has her PR persona on and fishes around in her handbag before coming out with a card and handing it to the officer.
“I’m Hope Green, Head of PR at Neighpalm Industries. The car belongs to Oliver Summers. I'm sure you can appreciate the fact that it’s late and there is nothing to see here. I guess whoever did this is long gone. I'm just going to organize for it to be towed. While I’m taking care of that, could you please advise Detective Thomas James? He is investigating a possible stalker for Miss Stubbs here, and I’m sure this fits in with the rest of the incidents.”
He frowns as he looks at the card. “If that’s the case, it’s better that we have it towed so that forensics can go through it. If you just give us a moment, I can ask you a few questions and we can get Detective James on the line to see what he wants to do. He may want you to stay until he can get here.” Hope frowns but nods, and they move just over from me, leaving me to my freak out in peace and quiet.
My eyes can’t leave the wreck that is the car. I’m pretty sure that's going to be classed as a write off, and I can only imagine how Oliver is going to react. Looking around, my brain prickles with that weird sense of an idea just out of reach, and I run my eyes over the scene again until I remember something. Hope had wanted me to use valet parking because of the stalker threat, but I hadn't wanted to waste money, so we’d compromised by parking in a well-lit spot. But now, both of the lights that had lit up the parking lot are smashed.
“Hope!” I call out to her, and she and the officer look up. “Weren’t they working when we parked here earlier?” I point to the now dark lamps.
Her nose scrunches as she pauses, thinking, before she responds, “Yeah, they were. That's really weird.”
The two officers exchange a look, and one decides to expand his search outward from the car, flashlight shining behind and under other cars, hand on his holster. I scramble to my feet.
“There’s a good chance that the person who did this was waiting for you to return to the car and was going to use this for distraction. It’s a good thing there were people around earlier.”
“Holy fuck!” slips from Hope’s mouth before she exchanges a worried look with me. “I’m just going to get one of the Neighpalm cars to come and pick us up. The Detective I spoke to on the phone said it was alright for us to leave. He said he’ll catch up with you tomorrow.”
“That's a good idea,” the officer tells her. “I don't want you two wandering around on your own.”
Hope paces back and forth for a little while as I wrap my arms around me, trying to ward off the chill that's settled into my body.
“Jesus, they seem to be escalating. I better call your dad and tell him,” she says, pulling her phone out of her purse, but I quickly snatch it out of her hand.
“Please don’t, he’ll only worry. I’ll tell him in the morning. Come on, now that I don't have to drive, I’m going to have lots of shots and just forget about everything for a while. I don’t even care if I have to ride hungover tomorrow. Let me have this, please?” I beg. “I’ll call an Uber later to get me home.”
“You willnotdo something so stupid. Your stalker could be waiting for exactly that opportunity. The same car that takes us to the club can return and take you home. Midnight sound okay, Cinderella?” Her eyes still show worry, but she’s smiling again.
“Sounds freaking perfect,” I answer, my heart finally calming a bit as she makes a couple of calls.
Chapter Twenty-Three
