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It was something that made my guts get caught in a vice grip. I didn't like it. I didn't feel comfortable doing it. I used it sparingly.
And mostly with Liv.
The first person I had spoken to in decades.
It was something we shared.
Something private.
Meaningful.
With that, she headed back to her life, soon to learn that Astrid was right, that she was about to give Roderick another kid.
It's funny the things you don't know about a person even after living with them for years. I had no idea Liv wanted to have a single kid, let alone a brood. I couldn't help but wonder at times if maybe those desires were new or if they had always been there, buried deep under the surface, needing someone with a trusty shovel to uncover it.
Roderick had been that for her.
I couldn't help but consider if there were things about myself buried deep that maybe I didn't even know about.
And if Annie was going to be the one to uncover it all.
Time would tell, I guessed.
My mind was on all these things still as I jogged my way up the stairs, ready to take my shower, then get things going with Annie again.
Rounding the corner toward our hall, there was no reaction right at first when I noticed her door was open. My pride maybe even considered that it was possibly her way of keeping an eye for me so she wouldn't miss me.
It wasn't until I saw the whiteboard that my stomach sank.I really wanted to stay this time.
With you.
I'm sorry.I'm not sure how long I stared at that sign, but it was long enough that when I shook myself free from my swirling thoughts, my jaw was tight, my hands curled into fists, the hairs on the back of my neck rising.
Turning, I moved into her apartment, finding her guitar case gone, the sheet music that had been scattered around suddenly missing.
And her phone smashed on the floor.
That was where my gaze stayed.
On that phone.
Because it didn't make sense.
If she just needed to leave town, why destroy a perfectly good phone?
Unless she thought something was on it.
But what?
Something incriminating?
No. No fucking way. I might not have known her long, but I felt like I knew her well enough to know that she wasn't some drug dealer or smuggler or engaging in any sort of illegal activity.
From everything I could tell, she was raised in a loving family, brought up on heaping doses of love and good morals. And while I knew she struggled, I highly doubted anything at all would lead her to abandon that upbringing to do something illegal.
Besides, most criminals weren't subsisting on rice and beans and lentils. The whole point of crime was that it was easier - and more - money.
She'd cried over fucking Chinese food.
I'd been a creep, watching when she came home, just wanting to catch a smile when she saw it. Instead, she'd been wiping away tears. Of relief. Of gratitude. Over takeaway. Because she never could have afforded it herself.
She wasn't a criminal.
But she had admitted to moving around a lot.
It didn't seem to me that she was someone afflicted with wanderlust, just never able to stay in one place for too long.
So she was moving because she had to move.
And if she was going without notice, completely out of the blue, it suggested the need to move surprised her.
I only knew of one thing that surprised a woman, scared a woman enough to need to leave town.
That was a man.
It didn't surprise me that Annie would have men chasing after her. I just didn't think it was in the literal way.
Who was it?
An ex?
Some schmuck who refused to be told no?
Whoever it was, he had her running.
State to state, town to town, never being able to build a life.
I took a deep breath, trying not to get pissed about something I couldn't fix right in the moment.
I planned to fix it.
Assholes who wouldn't take no for an answer needed to face up to another man who wouldn't either. One who was smarter, stronger, one who was willing to do whatever it took to make him accept the woman's wishes.
Up to and including taking him out.
There was blood on my hands.
It wouldn't be my first body.
It likely wouldn't be my last either.
But to find him, I first had to find her, figure out who he was, what was going on, how she wanted me to handle it.
With that in mind, I closed up her apartment, not wanting the super to come across it open and put it up for rent again. I wanted her to have a place to come back to. Because I planned to bring her back. Protect her. Fix her problem.
I won't deny there were selfish reasons.
Yes, I wanted her to be safe, feel safe, be able to live her life.
