If I couldn’t get to her, Cole or one of his teammates could. If they couldn’t, I’d call 911 or the New Haven field office. I needed to grease some wheels with them so they didn’t think I was overstepping if I needed their help.
I locked her window and turned to leave when I froze mid-stride.
The book of poetry I had been reading at the cabin was on her bedside table. Her train ticket was in it as a bookmark. Beneath it was the notebook I had been writing in.
I hadn’t intended for her to find it, but maybe—just maybe—she’d know it had been real for me too.
Loving her was never something I could fake.
Not once, during the entire investigation into my actions, had I ever apologized. I wouldn’t. I refused to feel any sort of guilt over what I felt for Dr. Amelia Hawthorne.
That would be like feeling guilty for breathing.
She was undeniable.
I had just locked the front door behind me when footsteps echoed up the stairs that led to the parking lot. I shouldered the backpack and untucked my shirt, hiding my gun.
I hated carrying a gun, but I wasn’t about to get written up for something stupid if I got caught without it on my person. The whole “don’t commit crimes while committing crimes” thing still rang true, especially when it came down to bureau policy.
“Hey, how’s it going?” The nonchalant greeting the guy offered as he passed me on the way up was muttered without expectation of a response.
I kept walking, but his footsteps stopped.
I turned the corner to go down the next set of stairs and glanced out of the corner of my eye to find Jake Hastings staring down at me as I headed to the parking lot.
Shit.
40
AMELIA
Monday, August 25 | 8:30 p.m.
My phone rang as I turned the steering wheel to slip down a side street. Cutting through campus on my way back from Dr. Chen’s office would save me five minutes getting home. Streetlights flickered as dusk gave way to darkness. “Hello?”
“Where are you?”
I glanced at the screen to make sure I had read the caller ID right. Never once had Jake sounded so panicked or aggravated. “I’m on my way home from an appointment. Why?”
“I thought you’d be home. I came by to see you, and that guy was at your apartment.”
It wasn’t fear that shook his voice.
It was anger.
“Whatguy?” I asked as I careened into an empty parking lot and stomped on the brake.
“The one that took you. He cut his hair. Looks more cleaned up. But I know it was him. He was all over the news.”
Right. It hadn’t been made public knowledge that Jude was in the FBI.
I didn’t know if Jude’s employment was the kind of thing that was kept classified. It had certainly been kept from me.
I was emotionally spent after going to work today and teaching in person while garnering strange looks from every student and faculty member on campus. On top of that, my in-person appointment with Dr. Chen ended with me unpacking the fact that I didn’t have anyone I truly felt connected to—except for Joel, who had truly been working his ass off to make amends.
Some cousins who lived across the country had emailed me, but it was more out of curiosity than care. My neighbors peered out their windows whenever I came or went but never talked to me. Vaanya and Caitlin had waved at me from a distance this morning. Marcus actually left the room when I walked in to get coffee, and Courtney pretended to take a phone call.
Jake was the only one who had reached out, and that was just because he was still trying to get in my pants.
