“What the hell, Bon? Where is this coming from?” I ask as I take a few steps toward her. “I thought we were fine. We talked—”
“I said it doesn’t matter,” she interjects. “It never did. I’m just another client to you.”
Fuck.
She is a fucking expert at this pushing-away shit.
A phone rings, and my stomach drops to the floor at the noise of it.
Bonnie whips her head around for the ringer. Her eyes are wide, the color quickly draining from her cheeks.
I remember I have to act like I don’t know anything about it.
She finally picks up her phone and stares at the number on the screen, the electronic seeming to shake in her trembling hand.
“What’s wrong? Who is it?” I ask, though I’m on the verge of puking knowing that it could be those guys again.
“I don’t…”
“Is it her?” I ask through my panic. “Your stalker?”
She shakes her head. “No. No, she doesn’t call. She never calls.”
“Do you want me to answer?” I ask.
She shoves the phone into my outstretched hand, then presses her hands behind her head. “Take it. I can’t. I can’t hear that voice again.”
My brows raise. “Again?”
Her eyes are glassy when they finally meet mine. “Yeah.”
The word is barely above a whisper, as though she thinks if she speaks too loudly, they’ll be able to hear her. I hate the fear in her dark blue eyes, the memory of the panic on her face the other night coming to the forefront of my mind.
I don’t want to hear that voice either.
Even so, I tap the green button and try to keep my face as neutral as possible.
“Who is this?” I answer.
The beat of silence that follows makes my ears ring, and when he speaks, my insides turn frigid.
“Hello, Gemma.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
GEMMA
“Who is this?”I ask.
“It’s your new best friend,” the guy says. “I’m trying to find someone. Maybe we can work together.”
“What do you want?” I ask.
Bonnie takes a step back and braces her entwined hands behind her neck.
I want to hold her so fucking badly. I want to tell her it’s okay.
“I want Bonnie’s stalker, of course,” he answers.
