The two cops rose from their chairs beside the sofa. “We’ve got everything we need for now. We’ll be in touch.” As they left, Gabe returned from the bar.
With a jerk of his chin, Gabe gestured for Jordan to follow him down the hall.
When they were out of Vanessa’s earshot, Gabe said in a low voice, “Whoever this is must have been watching the building for a while, because he knew where the cameras were and blacked them all out.” He ran his hand through his hair. “How is she?”
Jordan sighed. “Hard to tell. There wasn’t much she could tell the police. She didn’t see anyone, and he didn’t attack her.” But he violated her privacy, and he’d pay in blood for that. “I’m getting her out of here,” he said firmly. He’d made up his mind the second she tumbled through his door.
Gabe nodded. “Good call. I’d do the same if it were my woman. This guy is playing some sick, twisted game.”
“He is.” But what infuriated Jordan was that he couldn’t pin what this asshole wanted.
He’d been in her apartment. If he’d wanted to grab her, he’d had the chance. Instead, he’d snuck into Vanessa’s apartment, taken a picture of her while she was changing, stolen her underwear and then…left.
It didn’t make any fucking sense, but tonight was too close of a call. He wasn’t risking her safety any more than he already had.
Twenty minutes later, they were finally alone. Her facewas still pale and drawn, her long hair limp over her slumped shoulders. Seeing her so fucking vulnerable gutted him, because this wasn’t her.
Vanessa was bright and full of life, energy, sass, and color. Over the last couple of weeks, that light had slowly diminished. The show had kept her going, giving her a reason to leave the apartment and pour her passion into something she loved. But she didn’t go out dancing anymore. Even her visits to Bowie’s had become less frequent.
It had happened so gradually he hadn’t noticed, but seeing her now, the antithesis of who she was, made the flame of vengeance flare in his veins.
When he found this motherfucker, he’d make him pay for what he’d done to this beautiful ray of light. It would be a slow, painful reckoning.
“You must be exhausted,” he said gently, hovering over her like his body alone could shield her from anyone who wanted to hurt her.
Vanessa’s slim fingers stroked Nigel’s fur. He’d never been more damn grateful for the tiny beast, but he also wondered if the furball was vying for a sleepover tonight. Speaking of which?—
“You’re sleeping here tonight.”
Her gaze finally popped up to meet his. As drained and upset as she was, defiance sparked in her eyes. “Says who?”
“Says me,” he growled. He made a show of looking at his watch. “It’s almost two in the morning, and you’re exhausted. Fuck, I’m exhausted. Besides, are you really telling me you want to go back over there and sleep in that bed?” He jabbed his finger in the direction of her apartment.
The grimace that crossed her lips was answer enough. “I was going to get a hotel room for the night.”
Now he frowned and crossed his arms. “A hotel? Okay, princess, would you like me to drop you off at the Heathman or the Ritz-Carlton to spare you a night in my bed?”
Her eyes widened. “Yourbed?”
So, she’d caught that, huh?
“I’m not letting you out of my sight until this is over,” he told her gruffly, and was surprised when instead of contempt he read something unexpected in her expression.
Relief.
He gave her time to argue if she wanted, because that’s what they always did. Although, come to think of it, they’d been doing a lot less of it lately.
When she said, with a slight slump of her shoulders, “I’m so tired,” he moved on instinct.
Unfolding his arms, he scooped her and Nigel up in one fell swoop and headed down the hall toward his bedroom.
She must have been more exhausted than he thought, because she didn’t resist. Instead, she nuzzled her face against his shoulder, like she was trying to take refuge there, and went lax in his hold.
“Nigel?” Her voice was muffled against his shirt.
“Don’t worry, he’s staying with us.”
She made a humming sound of approval that he told himself was for the rabbit and not for him. Damn, lucky bastard.
