Maybe I ought to talk to her.
First, though, Kaelee opened her browser and searched for locksmiths.
An hour later, Cherie stood at the barstool beside her. “Any luck on locksmiths?”
“I have one scheduled for tomorrow,” Kaelee admitted. She glanced toward the table where Cherie had been meeting her latest date. “No love match?”
“She was sweet.” Cherie frowned. “Maybe I’m asking for too much. Maybe I just need to try going on a few dates with one person.”
“I’m not the right person to give dating advice. You want sex tips? I have you covered. If you want heart stuff, I’m not her.” Kaelee had settled her tab earlier and was nursing a glass of water. Getting drunk when she was already on edge seemed unwise. “Ready to head out? If you changed your mind about crashing at mine, I can drop—”
“Don’t be a dumbass.” Cherie waited patiently for her to stand. “If you feel more at ease, we could go to my place. My roommates are quiet.”
“I’m okay at mine. There’s a lock that’s only secured from the inside, so really…” Kaelee shrugged. She wasn’t about to inconvenience people because she was anxious.
“Come on. Pajama party time. We could get ice cream and watcha movie.” Cherie widened her eyes in a way that would not be amiss on manga art or a cartoon deer.
They were almost to her car when the phone chimed with a North Carolina exchange. She ignored it. The same number dialed back. Again she declined the call. A different North Carolina number dialed, and this time she answered. Typically, she didn’t answer any numbers with that prefix, but she felt awkward with the insistence of it.
“Hello?”
“Sabrina?” Her father’s voice rolled across the line, thunderous and terrifying as he once had been to her face.
Kaelee started shaking. How did he get this number? Why? Her skeletons weren’t things she liked to ponder, and he was the puppet master behind most of them. Controlling. Hateful. Vengeful.
“We heard this nonsense about yourbook, Sabrina. Aldens don’t make spectacles of themselves. They don’t embarrass the family name. Put a stop to it, or I will.” His voice was thick with the drawl of home, but it was, as ever with him, laced with the imperiousness that had no place in her life.
She shook so much that she closed her eyes against the fear crawling up her throat. Once, he’d been her daddy, her haven against nightmares and bullies; once, he’d been the man she trusted to keep her safe. When she stopped being the child he wanted, he morphed into someone heinous.
“You have the wrong number,” she managed to say somewhat steadily.
“You listen to me—”
“No.” She opened her eyes, swallowing back enough of the fear to stop from sounding so weak and breathy. “I will not listen to you. My name isn’t that. I don’t know you or want to, and you have no business issuing me orders.”
He was deathly quiet for a moment. “No one embarrasses my family, Sabrina. If you think your stunt is going to be tolerated, you’re gravely mistaken.”
“I am no part ofyourfamily, so my life doesn’t concern you.” Kaelee disconnected the call and promptly blocked his number. Her hands were shaking, and tears of frustration and terror raced over her cheeks.
Cherie wrapped both arms around her and squeezed.
“I don’t know how he found me,” Kaelee breathed.
Maybe the locks were a clue.
My God. Does he know where I live? Do I need to move?
For several moments, she stood there. Cherie rubbed small circles on her back, soothing her like she was a startled child after a nightmare, and murmuring, “You’re okay. You’re safe. I’m right here with you.”
“Would you think I was insane if I asked if we could crash in a hotel? My treat?” Kaelee straightened, swatting at the tears still on her face.
“Do we need to call the police?”
“No. No threats were made, not really. They can’t do anything anyhow.” Kaelee started walking. “I have my gym bag in the car, and we could stop at your place, and you get things or… hell, I’ll buy you pajamas and whatever makeup things you need or… I mean, you could stay at your own place, and I—”
“Hush. We’ll go have us a posh PJ party. Room service and high thread counts. I’m bringing a cooler, though. Ice cream—which I can grab at my apartment, too—and a bottle of wine. I have you, Kaelee. Friends don’t panic alone.” She offered Kaelee her elbow. “Let me be your knight for a change. You always look after me.”
Kaelee gave a watery laugh and blurted out, “My family disowned me. That was him. My father. He wants me not to publish my book because it would embarrass him.”
