AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Running. I’m not going to keep chasing you down the fucking street. Just stop. You obviously need help.”
I cross my arms stubbornly. “I obviously came to the wrong place.”
“Who were you looking for anyway?”
I blink. “Mr. and Mrs. Rosenberg. They took me in eight years ago when I had no one. They were the only family I knew. And I know they owned the Inn, so…”
“You needed a place to hide.”
“Just for a while.”
“How long?”
“Until they forget about me. Until I’m no longer news. Until…he finds someone else.”
“Look, Dad’s got someone checking out of the hotel in a few days. Why don’t you stay at the cottage until then?”
“At Elliot’s?”
He sighs. “Yeah.”
I consider the offer and shake my head with a bitter laugh. “Do you know why I left all those years ago?”
He shrugs. “Don’t really care.”
“Because I was pitied. I was homeless. I had no one.”
His jaw tightens and I know he sees where I’m going with this.
“I’m back to square one. Except all my stuff isn’t in boxes. They’re in my fiancé’s condo in D.C. and I can’t get to them.”
“What do you need?” he asks without a second thought.
I shake my head. “I don’t even know. Nothing seemed important enough.”
He looks around, his eyes squinting from the sun as the train approaches. He slides his shades back on. “I can’t in good conscience let you get on that train.”
“Aren’t you tired of babysitting me?”
“Sure am.” He cocks his head. “Come on. Let’s go find someone else to take you off my hands.”
“You sure know how to swoon a woman off her feet.”
“You know you’re the first human being I’ve met who hasn’t checked their phone,” Chase says as we sit across from each other at Township Bakery. I forget who owns it, but nothing about it has changed. It’s not your typical colorful bakery that showcases cupcakes, fancy French breads, and Italian desserts. This one looks more like a cigar shop without the cigars. It’s rustic with wood floors and furniture. There’s one large square coffee table in the center and surrounded by small round tables and oversized lounge chairs.
“It’s dead. Forgot to grab the charger on the way out and honestly…afraid of turning it on,” I grumble, taking a bite of my toasted blueberry muffin. Then cursing myself for showing my vulnerability. Even in the smallest amount. To this guy—who’s done nothing but treat me like the pest he can’t get rid of. And what do I do? Open up about my situation and my fears.
No better than signing a contract I didn’t read.
I don’t ask why Chase brought me here instead of the Inn. But if I had to guess, it’s the questions from his brothers he knows I’m in no mood for.
“Okay, so we’re not adding a charger to the list of things we need to get you.”
“I’m not buying anything. I don’t have a lot of cash and I don’t want to use credit cards right now.”
“What are they going to do? Call your bank and look at your statements?”
“Can never be too careful.”
