"Yeah, well, we all know you say one thing and mean another, Denali." His dry laughter sounds like he's already a pack of smokes in before noon. It's rough, heavy, and raw. And menacing. "I told you I'd never be far from you, bitch."
A cold sweat breaks out on my brow, and the shiver that snakes down my spine is chased by a very real fear. "What?—"
"Look across the street, Dee," he purrs, and I can still see the way his lips curl up in that deadly and threatening smile when he's toying with someone. "Smile for me."
I don't move. I'm rooted to the spot. Somehow, though, I get the strength to peer up over the side of the trunk, and it's then that I spot him.
Maroon sweater, tan pants, those stupid black loafers that he loves so damn much. He has his phone to one ear, sunglasses drawn over his eyes, and a smile covering his face—all typical attire of people in this metropolis at this time of year.
He raises his hand and waves at me, a move that makes me feel like a rabbit being cornered by a fox whose only goal is to eat it for dinner.
"Wave back, Denali. It's impolite to ignore me."
The blood left in my veins has turned to ice. There's no way that's him, but there he is. Standing there. Watching me. Following me.
My hands are shaking. He's not been this close since I threatened to take out a restraining order on him. He hasn'tever dared to find me and lurk. I flip open google, searching for his scheduled programs, hoping I'm wrong. The articles pop up almost immediately—America's Sweetheart Theo filming off the coast for a new action flick! Week two of filming kicks off for the American Heartthrob!He's supposed to be in the middle of the ocean. There's no way that's him. But if it isn't—how could he know? There's no way, and yet, there has to be, because I'd bet every last dollar in my bank account that the man across the road is him.
A city bus slides up to the curb, blocking my view, and just like that, the spell is broken. I forget all about my sweater and slam the trunk shut, scurrying to the sidewalk in the hopes that I can get back inside before he comes across that street and causes problems. I don't want problems—I've got enough, thanks. Kai's image is tied to me. If something with Theo happens while he's inside, fifty feet away?—
The bus moves away, and Theo's gone. Just like that. No sign of where he went, no indication that he was ever there. But the call is still ongoing on my end of the phone, so I lift the receiver to my ear and hear his last parting words.
"I'll never be far, Dee. Just you remember that. You belong to me. And I always get what I want."
I don't even register the cold when I manage to slink back into the building, hopefully without looking like I've seen a ghost. I sit back against the wall, but my thoughts are racing.
I can't work like this.
I only notice I'm shivering when Burke comes over and throws a sweater around my shoulders, giving me a playful wink and sticking around for a little small talk. But I can't process what he's saying. I'm two hundred miles away, where Theo's supposed to be today, drowning in an ocean of my own fears.
When Kai comes up to me to tell me it's quitting time, and that we're off to our next engagement, I'm back to stable, at least.I paste on a brave smile and pretend everything is okay, because it has to be.
The rest of the day passes in a blur, mostly because my mind is not on my work, for the first time in a while. I have to snap out of it.
I've dealt with Theo for long enough on my own. If this is him, and he is back to actively crossing lines himself, I'll handle it.
I say it in my head, over and over, in the hopes that that'll make it true.
Because I'm not so sure I've got this anymore.
chapter eighteen
Kai
Denali's beenin my house before dawn for a little over a week now. Between the four days of back and forth with police, giving them all I could remember, answering questions, being made out to be the perp instead of the man who was drugged, and the way legal asks me if I know how bad I've made it for myself if they have to press charges, I feel like it was my fault, that I've done something wrong. But there the whole time to remind me it's not, is Denali.
Every time someone suggests I caused this, she snaps to action, reminding them that I'm a victim, that I was damn near assaulted, that I'm the one they're paid to protect, not the perp. She's adamantly defending me, like a guard dog, and it makes me feel seen and protected in a way I haven't felt in a long time.
It also makes me a little horny every time she takes it toe to toe with a cop, because there's always the chance they could arrest her for standing up for me. For stepping in where she's not wanted. At least by them, that is.
It doesn't seem to bother her in the least. She's fierce in all the best ways, and she comes to my aid like no one else I've ever known.
Last night's performance was grueling, but I'm through it now. It went off without a hitch, and I even managed to go home feeling like I'd gone above and beyond, that I'd improved as an idol, that I was back to pre-hiatus levels of skill.
The girl I brought home with me is long gone, having rolled out of my bed fifteen minutes ago to gather her clothes. Probably to snoop, too, but there's nothing she'll find in my house that'll give her any sort of ammunition. I live a simple life and all my secrets are carefully locked up where she'll never get to them. Let her snoop. As long as she's gone when I get out of my bed.
I lay there for a whole half of an hour, trying to find sleep, but it never comes. The only thing I can mange to do is stare at the ceiling and wish that I had someone to talk to. That I had a friend who could explain to me why last night went so sideways so fast.
I'm still hot and sticky and sore from tonight's performance, and from the sex I had with the girl from after—if you can even call it that. I needed something to do to unwind, and Denali insisted I just carry on as usual while she's around, so I'm trying my best, but no matter what I did, it still didn't feel right. I ended up letting her blow me until I'd had enough and took care of myself the rest of the way, finishing her off with my fingers while my head was a mile away.
