He does have a point. But still …
“Do you have a … gun?” I ask warily.
“Yes,” he says slowly, seemingly gauging my reaction. “And it can keep us both safe.”
Sighing, I walk over on wobbly legs and sit down heavily on the sofa. I shake my head. “I can’t leave with you. Firstly, I don’t trust you—kind of a big one. And secondly, the only thing triggering this is a photo in your wallet, which you say was planted.”
“It was.” He takes a seat on the coffee table, putting him in front of me.
I can smell the mint from the soap he used in the shower that he took not so long ago. Even though it feels like a lifetime ago.
He’s become a different person to me in such a short period of time.
Yet I still feel exactly the same about him.
It’s confusing.
If, an hour ago, he had sat here, asking me to go on a trip with him, I would have said yes without hesitation.
But he is also not the Jack I knew from an hour ago.
And he is most definitely not asking me to go away for the weekend with him.
He’s asking me to go into hiding with him from a mystery person who might not even exist. Based solely on the fact that a picture was put in his wallet.
“I think you’re overreacting about this, Jack. I really do.”
“And I get why you think that. Because you think the real killer is behind bars. I know he’s not. I was worried about your safety, Audrey, but nothing has happened to you since you moved here, aside from finding that dead rat in your apartment, so I figured you were safe for now. This photo in my wallet changes everything. Someone wants you away from me. That might not put you in immediate danger, but it means something is happening, and I’m not willing to put your safety at risk.”
“Maybe if I just stay away from you, that will solve all of my problems,” I say the words with all the anger I feel inside of me.
Jack sighs. It sounds defeated. “Okay. Just promise me … you’ll be careful. And if anything happens—”
“Then, I’ll call the police first.”
The hurt in his eyes causes an ache in my chest to bloom.
I hate that I have feelings for him. It makes this so much harder.
Jack nods. It’s a final kind of nod.
It splinters something inside of me. But I let it fragment, and when he gets up and leaves my apartment, I don’t stop him. Even though my tortured heart is crying for him to stay.
A shadow.
I jump out of sleep. Bolting upright. Heart beating like crazy in my chest.
I hate it when I have those nightmares. He’s always there. I just can’t ever see his face. Always a shadow.
I press a hand to my chest and try to steady my heart and breaths.
Mouth dry, I get out of bed and go to the kitchen to get a glass of water.
As I’m walking, the memories of yesterday flood me. Finding out who Jack is. Who his brother is …
I’m still struggling to believe it.
But really, I shouldn’t be surprised. I have no luck in life. Only bad Karma finds me. Over and over.
The worst thing is that I miss Jack.
I hate knowing that he is just down the hall in his apartment, sleeping, and I’m here, alone, without him.
Could we get past this?
Could I?
I won’t deny that a part of me wants to. But I don’t see how we could.
Considering his brother is in prison, partly for crimes committed against me.
The thought of all of this brings an ache to my chest. I don’t want to think about it. I can’t. So, I do what I do best. I box up all thoughts of Jack and pack them away in my mind.
I get a glass from the cupboard and the water from the fridge, and then I pour myself a drink.
I take a sip.
I feel restless. I know I won’t get any more sleep tonight.
If Jack were here—
Stop.
Sighing, I sit down on the sofa. I look at the book on the coffee table. It has been so long since I read a book.
I have been too busy with—
Nope.
I put my glass of water down and pick the book up. I open it up. The words on the page blur into one.
“Great. I can’t even read now.” I slap the pages of the book together and toss it onto the coffee table.
And knock the glass of water over.
“Shit!”
The water is running off the table onto the floor.
Just fucking great.
Righting the now-empty glass, I jog to the kitchen and grab the paper towels from the cupboard.
Taking it back with me, I stare down at the mess.
It’s everywhere.
Fuck my life.
Bending down, I start mopping up the water.
I didn’t know a glass could hold so much damn water.
I’m on my hands and knees, mopping the floor up.
Christ.
It’s gone under the sofa.
I slip a hand under, trying to wipe it dry, but it’s run too far for me to reach.
I’m going to have to move the sofa.
Ugh. I really should have stayed in bed.
I put my hands on the base of the sofa and give it a firm shove back. It moves back a bit.
Another shove. It goes back farther this time now that I’ve got some momentum going.
A bit farther back, and I’ll be able to clean this mess up.
One. Two. Three.
I give it a big shove.
It slides back easily.
Bingo.
I grab some fresh paper towels, and on my hands and knees again, I start wiping the water up.
As I move around on the floor, one of the floorboards shifts. Pushes down at one side under my weight, the other side coming up.
Oh great. A loose floorboard.
I’ll have to get the super to fix it.
I bet the water has trickled down through the gap. I get some more towels and wipe around the loose board,
