Either way, I can’t let this fucker fly under the radar. If he’s escalating, he’s going to hurt someone again. And if that someone ends up being Hannah ... I shove the thought aside, refusing to let it take root.
I jot some notes into our ongoing Call Me Anytime file, my head swirling the entire time with the stark reality that Shane is currently listening to yet another caller—thatHannahis talking to—who could very well be the sick fuck who killed Gwen and Heather.
The thought of her sitting there, taking those calls, listening to men like Waylon describe their twisted fantasies, makes me restless. She’s tough, I know that much, but I can see how this job is wearing her down.
None of this shit sits well with me. If I’m being honest, it makes my blood pump a little harder through my veins.
Come hell or high water, I’m going to solve this fucking case, and soon.
19
Hannah
4:30 p.m.
“Ruby, darling, I’ve got a busy weekend ahead of me, but I’ll give you a call next week, okay?” Felix, one of my most frequent callers, says into my ear.
“Okay, Felix,” I answer without hesitation. “Have a good weekend, honey.”
Felix is a bit of an odd man, who doesn’t always act like the typical caller. Sometimes he goes for orgasm gold, but more often than not, he just wants to talk to someone who will listen. I have a few other callers like him, and honestly it’s kind of refreshing, considering most calls involve me hearing them jerk off.
The call ends shortly after that, and it only takes one glance at my phone to see it’s my favorite time of the day—quitting time. Quickly, before another horny dude can call my line, I switch my CMA phone to “off duty” and stand up from my desk to stretch from side to side. My hips and back crack audibly with each movement. You wouldn’t think spending eight hours sitting in a chair taking sex calls would make you feel stiff, but I’m telling you, my twenty-five-year-old body feels like it ages five years every time I have to work a shift.
I start to grab my purse and keys but pause when I realize I didn’t drive here.Domdrove me here.Shit.He spent most of the day out in the van, only coming in to check on me a few times, and truthfully, I don’t even know if he’s still here. Regardless, I’m thankful for everything he did for me last night and this morning, as it made me feel cared for in a way I haven’t in a long, long time—even if he was just doing his job.
Phone in hand, I send him a quick text.
Me:So ... can you still give me a ride home? Or did you leave already?
I hit send, but then I can’t stop myself from adding another message.
Me:It’s no biggie if you can’t. I can call an Uber or something.
Dom:Hannah, of course I can. I’m waiting downstairs for you.
At his words, my heart trips a little inside my chest, but I swiftly counter that by taking a long, cleansing inhalation into my lungs before letting it out slowly through my mouth.Relax, Hannah. It’s just a ride. No big deal.
I send Dom another text, letting him know I’ll be down in a minute, and finish up the process of closing down my sex cubicle. Red lights off and computer shut down, Ruby is officially done for the day.
Hallelujah.
Purse, keys, and phone in hand, I wave to Monica on my way out. She smiles and waves back, her cute face always a bright light in the otherwise dark room that is working at Call Me Anytime. I offer a friendly smile to the other girls as I walk by them too.
Lana, a woman in her early thirties who takes the Emerald calls, winks in my direction as I pass her booth. The other day in the break room, we had a really nice conversation where I learned she’s a single mom to a little boy named Cullen. She’s incredibly sweet, and her reason for working at CMA hit close to home—it’s not about choice; it’s about survival.
We even exchanged cell numbers, and I’m going to make a point to invite her to lunch with me and Monica from here on out.
Stepping out into the hall, I close the door behind me and make sure it locks tightly for the safety of everyone still inside, and then I make my way down the hall to the stairwell door and push through. Light from outside pours into the narrow space, and my eyes blink and water as they try to adjust. I swear, I work in the equivalent of a cave.
With slow and purposeful steps, to make sure I don’t fall, I make my way down the two flights to the exit door and push through into the fading sun of spring.
And the first thing my gaze comes into contact with is Dom. The van is gone, but he leans against the wall of the building, one cowboy-booted foot kicked up against the brick, his phone in his hand as he scrolls. He’s not in his normal professional-detective-suit attire but, instead, sports the same clothes he had on this morning. Though, with the crispness of his white T-shirt, it appears he’s made at least one alteration.
This isn’t the first time I’ve noticed how attractive he is, but for some reason, right now, it feels impossible not to look.Gawk, actually. Because hell’s bells, Dominic Dunn is ... handsome. He’s the kind of rugged, magnetic guy who could make any room feel too small just by stepping into it.
I take in the way the sun’s rays bounce off his light-brown hair and the way his blue-green eyes are so damn striking that I can actually see the colors from this far away. My gaze travels slowly down his body, taking in every inch of his muscled-up frame.
He’s not just handsome, Hannah. He’sinsanelyflipping hot in the most entrancing way.
