Page 29 of Own

“Give him a call. See if we can’t work out a way to keep this quiet and help his business now that they won’t be tormenting him. What were they using as blackmail?”

“Cheated on his wife at a party they orchestrated.” Interesting. “I’ll call him once they’re squared away.”

I nod, and we head out, needing this day to be over so I can get inside my woman.

CHAPTER 16

Hester

When I first arrived this morning, I’d been overflowing with anxious energy. Everything made me jump, and being alone had me nauseous. But it slowly got better throughout the day.

When Cato called, excitement sent my heart racing; then he went silent for too long before distracting me with his sexy talk, but I can’t stop thinking about those few quiet moments. Even though I’ve only known him a short time, I know that’s not normal.

As I continue sorting older books the library has had in storage for the used book sale we’re having in a few weeks, all I can think about is Cato. Our future, our present, the danger that seems to surround him.

What being in his life will mean for me.

There is no doubt that what happened here the other day pertained to him. The bus incident was random, yet somehow it felt like he was the bigger threat in that moment.

“You’re thinking too hard,” Chelsea teases, making me realize I’ve been scrunching my face. “What’s on your mind?”

I wish I could tell her, but I don’t believe Cato would appreciate that. He seems like a man who prefers his privacy. Instead, I lie, which I hate. “J-j-just co-co-con-concentrating.” Which she sees right through if the narrowing of her eyebrows says anything.

“How about we take a break for lunch? The coffee shop next door isn’t busy this time of day.” If Chelsea had her blood tested, I’m pretty sure it would mostly consist of caffeine at this point.

Staring down at the stacks of books, I nod my head and reply, “S-sure,” then stand, dust off my butt from sitting on the floor, grab my purse from the desk, and follow Chelsea to the front, where she tells the librarian what we’re doing. As always, offering to bring her back a drink and treat. That’s one thing I truly adore about my friend; she’s generous to a fault.

Outside, the sunshine is both warming and blinding, and after hours spent in the windowless back storage room, my eyes burn from the brightness of the cloudless sky. But it’s too beautiful to complain too much.

“Okay, now that we’re out of there, you have to tell me what’s up with you and Mr. Danger in a sexy suit because, my girl, you are positively glowing.” She’s nearly fidgety with excitement.

Shrugging, I don’t know how to express the happiness he makes me feel or how attentive he is to my needs. Or the way he seems to know and understand me better than I do myself. Cato Daire is the kind of man I’ve only ever read about in the romance stories I devour. To the core, he’s the perfect alpha anti-hero. He’s a menace to the world around him, but he’s so soft for me, except when he dominates me in bed. And even then, he’s sweet and gentle until he loses control, and still…

I think I love him.

Pausing on the sidewalk between buildings, I feel both frightened and empowered by the clarity, but I can’t tell him. Not yet. Not until I’m more secure in our relationship, because if my past has taught me anything, it’s that the moment I feel safe, my world gets torn apart.

“That was a ton of emotions that just flew across your face, H.” Chelsea’s calmer demeanor must mean most of it was worrisome. “Are you alright?”

“Y-y-yeah.” I inhale a deep breath, let it out slowly, and confess, “I c-c-could l-l-lose my-myself to him.” And that’s the most terrifying thing in the world.

“Isn’t love grand?” Her joyful sigh is the opposite of how I feel.

Humming in agreement is the only response I can manage right now.

Shaking the thoughts away, I force myself to focus on what’s in front of me, and right now, it’s the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the sweet scent of baked goods. I’m a sucker for a lemon drizzle loaf, and that’s exactly what I order along with a vanilla and cinnamon latte.

“I’ve got to tell you, whatever you’re feeling—and not sharing with me—looks good on you, H. You don’t look like a scared little kitten anymore, and your confidence shows in the way you hold yourself now.” Chelsea’s grin is contagious. I hadn’t realized I’d changed at all.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

She gasps, and my head whips to stare at her. “Look at that, no stutter.” I realize that she’s playfully teasing me, but my cheeks still heat in embarrassment. “Okay, okay, I won’t point it out anymore. I’m just saying, I think he’s good for you.”

We finish eating, with Chelsea taking up most of the conversation, then paying for the treat she promised, and head back to the library. My neck tingles, and a shiver crawls up my spine, feeling like I’m being spied on. The farther we walk, the slower I become until I abruptly stop to glance around.

I know that feeling. It’s the same one I had when those men on the bus attacked me. The same one when those two men came into the library and assaulted me. Someone is watching me, and not in the way I enjoy when Cato stares a little too long at me.

Chelsea stops too and turns back to me, asking what’s wrong, when suddenly her eyes widen, and I’m sprayed with something wet as she drops to the ground. Screams erupt around us, and people run for cover. I’m knocked into several times, too stunned to move, while I stare down at my best friend, the only friend I’ve ever had, and see her struggling to breathe, with blood bubbling up and spilling between her lips.