I laughed softly, blowing on the tea. "My least favorite trope."
"The worst," she agreed seriously.
I finished my tea, thinking my way through how I could possibly bring up the topic of "I think I like you more than a little." Nan read her book in silence, and I heard Tessa poorly practicing her clarinet in her bedroom at the back of the cottage. I watched sunlight dance on the creeping philodendron that bordered the kitchen walls, and I took a moment to feel peace in my safe place. When I was finished with my tea, I thanked Nan, kissed her on her soft cheek, and then left the cottage.
I didn't have much of a plan, but I did have a resolution. I couldn't let Benjamin leave without saying something. I couldn't live with the what-if, with the niggling doubt that keeping myfeelings to myself was the best course of action. It was safer, true. But I would hurt no matter what I did because he was leaving, and I was already devastated over it.
That decided, and with no plan about how I would impart this embarrassing information, I approached my house with my heart thudding painfully in my chest. My windows were open, letting in the cooling evening breeze, and I heard Benjamin talking softly to someone on his computer. As I reached for my door handle, some of his conversation drifted through the open windows.
"… know I've been gone a while," he said.
A female voice whined, "I'm dying of boredom without you."
I paused, rooted to the spot. Was that one of his co-workers? Benjamin chuckled ruefully. "You entertain yourself just fine without me, Maura."
"Not the way you do," she replied in a sultry tone.
My thudding heart practically cracked as it came to a frozen stop. Benjamin sighed. “Flattery gets you nowhere.”
"Come on," the woman pouted in response.
I swallowed, my throat tight. He must work with one of his previous lovers. Unless she wasn't “previous,” and Benjamin really did have someone to return to. How could I possibly confess my feelings to him when I wasn't sure if he had women waiting for him in Oregon? I'd have to be an absolute masochist to put myself through that kind of misery. I stepped away from the door, then started backing silently away from it.
Dimly, I heard Benjamin say, "When I get back, I promise—" And then I was moving away from the porch and walking—I wasn't sure where, but I knew I couldn't stay and wait for him to finish talking to someone else in that gentle, cajoling voice of his.
Keeping my thoughts to myself was the better option, after all. As I turned away from the house, I got an alert from the security app on my phone that someone was at the gate. I pulledit up and found the local grocery delivery service waiting with the things I'd ordered this morning. Sighing, I let them in and started down the driveway. At the very least, I could keep busy.
Being busy was better than being heartbroken.
Chapter Twenty-One
FROST
“When I get back,” I drawled, annoyed that Maura was flirting with me again when I’d made it clear that I had no interest in her, “youcan work remotely and I’ll bug you with 30 emails a day. Sound fun?”
Apparently realizing that absence hadn’t made my heart fonder, Maura rolled her eyes. “Oh, fine. Let me know when you’ll be back in office.”
“Will do,” I promised. I hung up, and my thoughts immediately fled the conversation and landed lightly on…
Evie. I realized with a start that Evie hadn't returned from her grandmother's. It had been thirty minutes, maybe, and a niggle of worry prodded the back of my mind. I stood from the table, stretching and peering through the windows. She had the self-preservation instincts of a can opener, but even she wouldn't have left the property without me… right?
I checked my phone and saw that there had been a blip from the front gate security measure, but Evie's username had cleared it before it had set off alarms. Frowning, I opened my text chain with her.
Frost: You okay? Just checking in.
She didn't read it, and she didn't respond. Frowning harder, I went to the front door and opened it, looking down the driveway. It was empty, as far as I could see, even though it disappeared into the trees and the gate wasn't visible from the front door. The wind swept over long grass and through the thick trees, and a rustle of movement caught my eye. It was a grocery bag, weighed down by its contents and listing off the driveway and into the bushes. A line formed between my eyebrows as I started down the path to investigate it. My instincts screamed that something was off.
As I neared the bag, I spotted a shapeless, white form off to the left, half in the bushes and out of the line of sight of the house. I started to jog, and then I made out Evie's form, her legs sprawled out at an angle and her back to me as she lay in the grass. I sprinted, my heart leaping into a panicked rhythm. I shouldn't have let her go, even to her Nan's cottage. I let her out of my sight.
I skidded to my knees beside her, and immediately, I took in the fact that her wrists were tied behind her back with a zip tie, a thin stream of blood was already drying on her forearm, and her eyes were closed. “Evie,” I choked out.
Her lashes fluttered, and with bleary eyes, she seemed to force herself to look at me. Her throat worked, but she was sluggish, almost sleepy, and didn't seem to realize who I was.
I forced myself to take a calm breath and not panic.Checklist, Frost. M.A.R.C.H. Protocol.I glossed over the blood on her arm—it was too little to be a massive bleed—and gently rolled her toward me, mindful of her head. She was breathing, albeit shallowly, and her color was pale but not blue or anemic. As she groaned and tried to force her eyes open again, I felt for head injuries. She didn't have any; that imbued me with an immediatemeasure of calm even though my heart wanted to gallop out of my chest. "Evie," I said a little louder. "Evie, can you open your eyes?"
She mumbled something, but I couldn't make it out. I checked her radial pulse above the zip ties—it was fast but not frantic. I checked her pupils next, which were blown wide, and my suspicion that she'd been drugged became closer to a certainty. Guilt and fear nearly strangled me, and I gathered her to me, whispering, "You're okay," again, like a spell that might make it true.
Mindful of her hands tied behind her, I lifted her in a bridal carry, pressing her face to my chest. "Come on, Evie," I encouraged as I fast walked back to the house. "Wake up, honey." I jostled her, trying to pull her out of the effects from whatever drug they'd used. I hoped it was something logical like ketamine—anything off-market could kill her.
