So, it’s as bad as I feared.
“That must be hard on you,” I said softly, rubbing Gavin’s bicep, and he flexed beneath my touch.
“A little. It’s hard to know I was the cause of all this, you know? I never meant for this to happen.”
“We were the cause,” I reminded him gently, refusing to let myself off the hook. “And I didn’t mean for it to happen either.” I pursed my lips. “It’s one of those things that will take time, I think.”
“I know you’re right.” He kissed my forehead. “As usual.”
I offered him a soft smile, and another silence passed between us before he sat up in bed.
“All right, what do you want to do today?”
“This?” I asked, turning over and letting the sheets fall away from me so he could see my naked body. He surveyed me with hooded eyes, studying my breasts, the space between my thighs, but then he shook his head.
“You make a tempting argument. But are you sure there’s nothing you want to do? I don’t want to keep you chained to the bed all day.”
“Yes, because I’d hate that.”
He smirked at me. “Come here, woman. While you think about what you’d like to do today, there’s something I want to tell you.”
I wondered if it was something about his visit with Cooper, but Gavin stayed quiet for a few more seconds, leaving me in suspense.
“What is it, baby?” I asked him, bringing my palm to his stubbled cheek.
He was quiet for a second, his eyes locked on mine. “I’m . . . crazy fucking in love with you,” he finally murmured.
“Gavin.” I sighed, totally taken by surprise.
I’d waited so long to hear those words from him, and this declaration—so bold and sure—I could almost have laughed if I weren’t so caught up in the moment. Gavin didn’t do anything halfway. He was always brave and confident, and how he expressed his love was no different.
“I love you too, a million billion,” I whispered, pressing my lips to his.
“Right back at you, baby.” He kissed my lips softly as we lingered together in a state of bliss.
After we’d cuddled and kissed and exchanged a few more I-love-yous, which felt so natural and right, Gavin was back to grinning down at me.
“Have you thought of anything you’d like to do today?” he asked again.
“I wouldn’t mind going shopping at the fancy organic market you turned me on to. I’d love to make you my grandma’s homemade chicken potpie. It has this flaky puff-pastry crust that’s to die for.”
“Sounds great.”
I sat up in bed. “The only thing is, all my clean clothes are back at my place.”
“Then we’ll go there, and I’ll watch you try on dresses.” Gavin shrugged. “Easy.”
“Okay.” I grinned, then quickly slipped into a sweatshirt and worn jeans before following him down to the car.
We pulled onto my street with its rows of little brownstones, all uniform and perfect in a row—
All except mine, which had a giant hole where the door should have been.
The planters outside were cracked, as if someone had taken a mallet to them, and the splintered wood from the door was scattered on the steps like shrapnel after an explosion.
“Oh my God,” I whispered, the familiar feeling of cold, bitter violation coiling through me.
“Fuck.” Gavin snarled, his whole body tensing. “Stay in the car,” he warned me when we’d finally parked.
But I couldn’t. How could I just sit here and wait? I had to see for myself what this person—what Nathan—had done to my grandmother’s house.
I waited until Gavin got out of the car and disappeared into the brownstone to follow him, stepping numbly into the place that had once been my home.
And the second I saw it? It was even worse than I’d imagined.
The hardwood floors, original to the old building, were gouged and carved up. The moldings I’d so carefully painted were wrenched from the walls. All my work, my hours of devotion to make this place just like my grandmother’s house had been, was ruined.
My heart pounded as I pulled my cell phone from my pocket, dialing the numbers without thinking. When the police dispatcher answered, I gave her all the information calmly and quietly, then waited while she gave me instructions.
This was a crime scene now. Soon, I’d hear sirens roaring down the street, and would be asked to answer even more questions. But I couldn’t worry about that now.
All I could think was, what kind of person would do such a thing?
And what would they have done if they’d come here to find me home, maybe asleep in my bed?
I wrapped my arms around myself and shivered, thinking of the way Nathan had thrown me into dressers and desks. The way he’d knocked my head against walls. How badly he’d hurt me.
It wasn’t impossible to think he’d reached the tipping point. That he might have taken his mallet to my skull too.
A creaking on the stairs let me know that Gavin was approaching. I looked up at him, trying to keep my face impassive as his gaze met mine. If he was surprised to see me there, he didn’t show it. In fact, he showed nothing but raw fury.
I swayed on my feet as I tried to think clearly. “I think he’ll really kill me, Gavin. Nathan will stop at nothing.” I motioned around the room. “If this doesn’t prove it, I don’t know what would.”
He shook his head. “It wasn’t Nathan.”
“What?”
“It wasn’t Nathan,” he insisted, his jaw clenched. “Come with me upstairs.”
I followed him wordlessly, only stopping short for a moment when I noticed the ocean of feathers in my hall. As I opened the door to my bedroom, however, I realized exactly what had happened. Whoever had done this had taken a knife to my down comforter and pillows, scattering a million feathers over the whole room. I repressed a shiver at the sheer violence of it.
“Here.” Gavin pointed to the wide mirror over my dresser. In my favorite red lipstick, someone had written Die, Bitch in spiky, jagged cursive.
“Creative,” I said in a deadpan voice, still trying to process what had happened here.
“No. Not that.” He shook his head. “The writing. I recognize it.”
I blinked.
“This was Sonja,” he muttered, raking a hand over his face. “Sonja has been the one doing this. You said the car that hit you was red? Sonja drives a red car.”
And Sonja had been trying to seduce him for weeks, only to be shot down.
A woman scorned . . .
The revelation was so shocking, I could barely keep up.
“So, what do we do?” I asked.
“We tell the police so they can arrest her.”
As he finished speaking, the sound of approaching sirens grew until they echoed around us.
When the police arrived, we told them everything. And just as easily as Gavin had said, Sonja was taken in for questioning.
Within an hour, she’d broken down and told the whole story of what she’d done. How she’d left the bloody mess on my doorstep. How she’d tried to kill me in the street that day. How she’d tried again last night, and lost her mind when I wasn’t there.
It was hard to hear it all, to know someone could harbor so much malice against me, but when she was taken into custody and we were free to go, I headed home with a renewed sense of freedom.
No more wondering or second-guessing. I was finally safe.
Still, as we sailed down the road, I couldn’t help but notice Gavin’s mood. Tension remained in his jaw and his shoulders, and as we made our way closer to his apartment, it only seemed to get worse.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“Nothing,” he said, clearly lying.
“Pull over.”
Gavin did as I asked with a sigh.
When we were on the side of the road, a steady stream of cars whizzing past, I twisted in my seat to face Gavin.
“What’s going on?” I repeated. “I thought you’d be relieved that they caught Sonja. Everything is going to be okay now.”
“I’m struggling with the fact that, yet again, the trouble in your life was due to me,” he said, his face a mask of guilt. “Everything bad that’s happened to you is because you’re with me.”