I had ignoredJada’s five calls as I drove back to her house.
This day went to hell in a hurry.
She’s going to be pissed that I didn’t tell her all of this before.
A sick feeling had taken over my stomach.
I should never have pursued her, wrapped something as perfect as Jada up in my fucked-up world. I knew better and I have to take responsibility for this. This epic fuckup is my fault.
I pulled up to Kari’s house, thinking that I should be pulling up to move Jada’s shit out of it and into mine. Instead, I was going in to probably make her never want to talk to me again.
Par for the fucking course.
I parked the Denali, got out, and made my way to the door, a sense of foreboding hanging over my head like a storm cloud. I rang the bell and waited.
“Who is it?” Her sweet voice sounded through the door.
“It’s me, baby.”
The door flew open. She stood there in a pair of gray shorts and a cute pink shirt. She looked gorgeous, as always. I wanted to scoop her up and take her away somewhere far away.
“Hey,” she said, her eyebrows furrowed. “What are you doing back here?”
She stepped to the side as I walked in.
“I need to talk to you.” My voice was rougher than I would have liked, but this wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have.
“Okay.” She closed the door behind me and followed me in the kitchen, her steps hesitant.
“Is Max here? Kari?” I asked, looking around.
She shook her head, her ponytail bouncing. “Nope. Just me. What’s going on? I’ve been trying to call you.”
“I know. I didn’t want to discuss this over the phone.” I sat down at the table and motioned for her to join me. She pulled out a chair slowly and sank into it, her eyes never leaving me.
“What’s going on?” she repeated.
I blew out a breath and caught her up on the events related to Simon.
“Cane,” she said, her eyes wide in horror as a realization of what I was getting at hit her full force. “The day I wore the shirt … first of all, I never wear that shirt. Kari despises it. I’ve had it forever. That day when we went for a walk, I felt like someone was watching me.”
My stomach lurched, bile hitting my esophagus.
That motherfucker was watching her.
Her jaw dropped open and she visibly shivered. “When we got home,” she swallowed, looking around the room. “Cane, when we got home that afternoon, the back door was open.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I narrowed my eyes, in complete disbelief that she wouldn’t find that just a little fucking important.
“Because I thought I was being paranoid!” She looked around the kitchen like she was thinking. “And the night at the bar. I felt it then, too. That whole night, I just felt like something was wrong. I even thought I saw Simon standing there.”
“You should have told me this!”
“Well, maybe if I had known everything that was going on, I would have. You didn’t tell meanything.”
I watched the clarity wash over her eyes and I braced myself for her reaction.
“I’ve been walking around every day with no idea. I was completely vulnerable.” She gasped. “How could you let me do that, Cane? I … I don’t even know what to say.”
