Unknown number: I see you don’t you know you’re mine yet
I gasped.
My fingers turned to rubber, and I dropped my phone on the foot well. Dread washed all over me and I looked around us. Looked for him. For Victor.
“What happened?” Dare asked and stepped on the brakes before we’d even pulled out.
I shook my head.
“N-nothing,” I answered, barely able to breathe.
“It’s not nothing, Zach. You look like you’ve seen a ghost. What happened?”
I reached for my phone and when I sat up Dare snatched it out of my hands before I could pull it out of his reach.
“Damn it, Zach. Look at all these messages. Why didn’t you say anything?”
I shrugged, feeling my eyes itch and the hairs on the back of my neck rise.
“I…I don’t know,” was my honest answer. “Because there’s nothing I can do about it? He…he can’t hurt me over texts.”
Which wasn’t exactly true considering the reaction I had every time I read one of his messages, but Dare didn’t need to know that. I’d already burdened him enough with my bullshit life.
“Oh Zach,” he sighed and reached for me, aiming for my face, but I pulled back. I looked away.
I didn’t want him touching me. Not if Victor was watching. If Dare ever touched me I wanted it to be pure, romantic, transformative. It’d be nothing of the sort if Victor was witnessing it. It’d be sullied. Dirty. Nasty.
He’d already taken so much from me. I wouldn’t allow him to take Dare too. Not him. Not ever.
“Just drive. I want to go home,” I said matter-of-factly in an effort not to cry.
I wasn’t successful.
SEVENTEEN
DARE
Iglanced back at Zach and wanted to pull him into a hug. Into my arms.
All this time he hadn’t told me about the messages. All this time and he’d been suffering in silence while I thought he’d been safe. He might have been physically, but mentally?
“You should have told me,” I said when we got into the house.
I tamed Lookah’s response and he turned to Zach for comfort, who sank into the couch and embraced my dog’s affection.
“I know. I know. But then again what can you do about it? Huh?” he mumbled, barely able to look at me.
He had a point. What could I do about it, barring blocking the unknown number or confiscating the phone, so he didn’t have to get retraumatized with every text message? Not that taking one more thing from him would do wonders for his mental health, but it was better than the alternative wasn’t it?
No, Zach was right.
There was nothing I could do about it. But that didn’t necessarily hold true for someone else.
I pulled my phone out and retreated into my bedroom while I waited for my call to be connected. Seconds later, Wyatt’s gruff voice came through, and it put a nasty, bitter taste on my tongue.
“Where are we with Victor Lombardi?” I asked, not bothering with pleasantries.
“Same place we were yesterday. A dead end,” Wyatt replied in a similar tone.
