Maybe when his conference was over, he’d come back and we could continue where we left off.
Gavin had said he wanted more, but then, so did I. But the thought of telling him what I needed scared the ever-loving crap out of me. How would he react?
I racked my brain, trying to think of a way to tell him of the affections I craved.
Cuddling on the couch? Yes, please.
Soft, stolen kisses against my lips and neck? Always.
More quiet moments with him at home? Anytime.
But I couldn’t wrap my head around how I’d approach the topic without sounding like a needy girlfriend.
If there was one thing I knew about Gavin, it was that he needed control. He wouldn’t respond to commands in the same way I did, with the obedience and acceptance of a loving partner. This man was broken. He didn’t know love. Not in the way that I did, with two loving parents and an easy upbringing. He had never witnessed a healthy, loving adult relationship, and he didn’t know how to be in one.
The only way for this to work—for my longings to get through to him—was to show him. I had to show him. By example. By brushing soft kisses against his knuckles when we parted, pressing my mouth to his neck while we made love. And I would have to do the scariest thing of all . . . I needed to be the first to say those three little words that terrified me.
I had no idea how he would react, but it was time. Because I did love Gavin, with every ounce of my soul.
Nerves suddenly dancing in my belly at the thought, I ran a hand through my tangled hair and swung my legs over the side of the bed. Rolling to my feet, I grabbed a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt, and threw them on before heading downstairs to the kitchen. After making myself a quick cup of tea, I grabbed a bagel and sat at the rickety kitchen table to plan my day.
It was better to keep my hands and my mind occupied. Otherwise, this new, bright relationship with Gavin just might swallow me whole.
The house still needed a ton of work. The moldings needed to be sanded and the kitchen needed to be painted. It wasn’t a day in bed with the world’s best lover, but fixing up my home was still something that would give me immense satisfaction once the job was done. I made myself a little shopping list and stuffed it in my pocket before finishing off my tea and hopping to my feet.
Grabbing my purse from where I’d left it on my sofa, I slung it over my shoulder and opened the front door as I took a deep breath of the cool morning air.
At least, that’s what I’d intended to do. Instead, I breathed in something rank and unsettling.
Confused, I moved to take my first step, nearly tripping over a mound of wadded-up newspaper on my doormat. It was stained a deep crimson that seemed somehow menacing.
With my heart hammering in my chest, I crouched down and gingerly opened the paper only to slap my hand over my mouth in horror. My fingers trembled as I dared another look. The coppery smell of blood was stronger now, and I held my breath as I stared at the gory flesh that had been wrapped inside. I didn’t know quite what I was looking it, but the viscous liquid had soaked into the paper beneath.
My knees quaking, I took a step back and slammed the door. Then, with trembling fingers, I locked it for good measure.
This was no accident. This was a message for me. A message of fury and hatred and ugliness.
Whoever had done this had been here, on my doorstep, in the last few hours. Gavin would never have left if he’d seen the carnage on his way out. That fact alone left me feeling exposed, violated, and the bagel I’d eaten felt like a ball of lead as my stomach pitched.
I wrapped my arms around my waist, trying to settle myself, but if there was one thing I knew, it was that I couldn’t be alone.
Not right now.
I pulled my phone from the back pocket of my jeans and dialed the first number in my contact list. The person I knew would protect me no matter what.
“Hello?”
Gavin’s deep rumble of a voice sent a wave of calm reassurance over me. I closed my eyes, readying myself to tell him what had happened.
“Hey,” I said, but my voice came out as a trembling whisper.
“What’s wrong?” he demanded, his immediate concern crackling over the line.
“Is your press conference over?” I asked softly.
“Just ended. What’s wrong, Emma?” His voice was more urgent now. There was no downplaying how scared I was, and he could read me all too well.
“I need you to come here,” I said, digging up what little strength I had left. The image of the bloody mess was seared into my mind. “S-someone left dead animals on my doorstep. I think it might have been Nathan. You’re the first man who’s spent the night here since . . .” I could bring myself to finish the rest of the sentence.
“Stay put. Make sure the door is locked, and I’ll be right there.”
The line went dead, and I shoved the phone in my pocket before leaning against the back of the sofa.
If Nathan had seen Gavin here last night, did that mean he’d been watching me all these months since we’d been apart? That, even when I thought I’d found freedom from my abuser, I’d always been under his thumb?
Tears welled in my eyes and burned down my throat, but I held them back. He’d made me cry so many times before, but I wouldn’t give him that power again. Not if I could help it.
Twenty minutes later, my doorbell rang. Although I knew it was Gavin on the other side, I approached the door carefully, looking through the peephole before unlocking the door and opening it.
I was surprised to see Gavin was flanked on either side by his brothers. They all wore grim expressions as they stepped over the gore on the steps.
“We took a look around before we rang the bell,” Gavin said, cold fury lighting his eyes.
I nodded, looking from one brother to the next. “Come in.” I stepped aside as they filed in like soldiers prepared for battle. “C-can I get you all coffee or—”
“Sit down, princess,” Cooper said. “We’re going to get you through this.”
Quinn gave me a solemn nod. “Let’s start with the essentials. Have you eaten? Do you need a glass of water?”
I nodded and then shook my head. “I ate, and no, I don’t need anything. I’m just glad you’re here.”
“Let me make you some tea anyway,” Cooper said, making his way into the kitchen.
“I’ll go take photos and call the police,” Quinn said, more to Gavin than to me.
Gavin ran his hands up and down my arms, doing his best to soothe me. “Are you okay?”
I nodded. “I think so.”
The doorbell rang, and when Quinn opened the front door, a man stood there staring down at the mess on my porch. He was graying at the temples but had sharp blue eyes that seemed to take in everything around him. A camera was slung around his neck, and he leaned into the living room with curious eyes.
“Mr. Kingsley?” he asked.
Gavin moved toward him. “Rick, thanks for coming on such short notice.”
When I glanced from Gavin to Rick, Gavin introduced us. “Emma, this is Rick Hart. He’s the best private investigator in the city. We’re going to get to the bottom of this.”
Leave it to Gavin to hit the ground running. I hated to admit it, even to myself, but just having him here taking care of things when I was so wrecked made me almost dizzy with relief.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Hart. Please, sit down.”
Rick sat and I joined him, taking the seat across from him as he offered me a reassuring smile. “Gavin filled me in. I’ll take some photos, but I wanted to talk to you first. That must have been quite a scare to wake up to.”
I nodded but said nothing.
“The police are going to ask you a lot of questions similar to mine, but because there was no written threat, it’s going to take cutting through a lot of red tape to get an investigation under way at all. You understand?”
I nodded again, sick at the thought that this might go nowhere.
Gavin, probably sensing my distress, took a seat beside me and covered my knee with his warm palm. “It’s okay, Emma. Rick is going to make sure we figure out who did this so we can protect you.”
I glanced at him, slightly encouraged, then turned my attention to the investigator again. “Okay, so your questions?”