“No, you just looked like your world was falling apart.”
He’s not far off the mark. My mother is declining more and more each day, and I continue to work my ass off like that’s not happening. Luke was a temporary respite from all that, but considering I just ended that relationship because I couldn’t keep doing that, it makes no sense to agree to have some playtime with this man in hopes that he will take my mind off everything. Stupid, really.
“Goodbye, Arlo.” I push past him, and without looking back, I walk out the door and get into my car.
The first time he called, it was from a private number, and I didn’t answer. Not that I knew for sure it was him, but I’m pretty sure it was. Because the second time he calls, it’s not from a private number, and I pick up. Glancing up at my white ceiling as I lie in bed with a glass of wine next to me, I have to remember to breathe when he speaks.
“Cora. I didn’t think you would answer,” he says.
“I contemplated not answering,” I admit.
“I’m glad you did.” When I don’t say anything, he adds, “Open the door, Cora.”
Everything in me freezes at his words. Open the door? What the hell does he even mean by that?
“Yes, I’m at your door. No, I’m not a stalker. I have a gift for you, so please, open up.”
Glancing at my glass of wine, I contemplate not getting up. Sighing, I grip the phone in my hand. The wooden floor beneath my bare feet is cold as I make my way to the door. Then I just stare at the door and wonder… should I open it?
What if he’s here to kill me?
For all I know, he could have a fucked-up kink where he not only strangles women with those beads while he fucks them, but he does it to the point of killing them.
“I can hear you breathing.” His voice rattles through the door.
With a sigh, I unlock the first deadbolt, then hesitate before I do the rest. When I pull the door open, there he stands, in a black cotton shirt and black slacks. Does this man even own jeans? Or anything with color?
He raises a hand with several sheets of paper held in it.
“What is that?” I ask.
“Information for your mother.”
“My mother?” I squeak in surprise. “How would you know—” I shut up as I reach out for the document. I read over it quickly, my brows pinching together.
“I have access to the best doctors in the world. This doctor is a well-known neurologist who has seen great results with his patients.”
“Why would you even do this? And how?” My brows are furrowed as I talk, and I shake my head at his words, blinking rapidly while I look up at him.
“My friend is a detective. I asked him to pull up everything there is about you.”
I gasp at this information. “That’s extremely invasive.” I shake my head. “Why would you tell me?”
“Because I want to be truthful with you,” he says, sounding sincere. “Can I come in?”
I glance back down at the document and then back up at Arlo. “I’m not sure I want you in my apartment.”
“Fair. But I promise not to fuck you tonight.”
“That also doesn’t sound reassuring.”
He shrugs. “I’m only a man standing in front of a beautiful woman.”
I roll my eyes and step back so he can come in. He smirks at me as he enters, and I shut the door once he’s inside.
I stand slightly behind him as he takes stock of my apartment, watching his eyes move slowly across the space. The floor plan is open, almost loft-like, which makes everything feel a little too exposed with him here.
Warm wooden floors stretch beneath our feet, complemented by thick beams that run across the ceiling, giving the place a touch of rustic charm. My furniture is crisp white, clean, and minimalist, with the only real pop of color coming from the deep-red rug beneath the television stand.
