"This is my girlfriend, Cat Callaghan." I could have kept the introduction to just her name but felt the need to make it known she's mine.
"Noted," Wilkerson states. "Have a seat." He resumes his position behind the desk and waits for us to be seated before continuing. "I need you to sign these." He slides a paper to me. "It's the incident report from the break-in.'' I skim the report before signing anything, then hand it back. "Is there any chance you may know this person? An ex, perhaps?" Wilkerson lens back in his chair.
"No exes."
"A former employee, crew member, anyone you can think of who may have been disgruntled or pissed off in the past?"
"I've yet to fire anyone, and I'm sure I've pissed a few people off in my life, but I hardly think they would be professing their undying devotion to me and threatening bodily harm over the fear of losing my affection," I tell him. "All your questioning leads me to believe you're hitting dead ends on the investigation."
"We don't have much to go on," he states. "You hired Lev Petrov. I don't know him personally but know he's good at what he does, which is finding the small details." Wilkerson leans forward, placing his forearms against the surface of his desk. "I've been at this job for a long time, and one thing I can tellyou is stalkers never give up. They feed off the fixation they have for their target. Over time it consumes them past a point of no return. They tend to be mentally ill and unstable individuals, so never let your guard down."
When we’re finished, we leave Wilkerson's office and head for my apartment. Glancing in the rearview mirror, I look for Quinn, who was cut off at the light by some dickhead driving a Lamborghini.
My mood feels heavy and paranoia has me looking over my shoulder every few seconds. What if Wilkerson is correct, and things get worse before they get better? I park my truck. "It will be okay." Cat tries to be optimistic and rubs her fingertips at the base of my neck.
"I'm risking too much being here—having you here with me."
"I wanted to be here, Easton. You didn't force me."
"I should have said no. I don't want something to happen to you because of me," I admit.
"First, I don't like being told what to do. And second, I feel safe with you." I close my eyes and lean into her touch when she places her palm on my cheek.
Quinn's bike rolls up beside my truck, and he cuts the engine. "Sorry to ruin your love bird's moment, but I need to drain the dragon."
In and out. That's my plan as we enter my apartment building. The moment the three of us step into the elevator, a hand shoots in from outside, stopping the door from closing, and in steps Mallory.
"Oh, hey. You're back." Her eyes light up and travel over me like she is the predator and I'm her prey, until they fix on mine and Cat's joined hands. She loses her happiness. If looks could cut a person, Mallory would have sliced right through Cat. What the hell is up with her? Mallory plasters a fake smile on her face. Mallory's eyes cut to Quinn, who leans against the wall as theelevator begins to move. "Aren't you going to introduce me to your friends?" She saysfriendslike it leaves a nasty taste in her mouth.
"Mallory Vargas, meet my brother-in-law Quinn, and my woman, Cat," I introduce her to them.
Mallory rolls her eyes. "Your woman sounds so primitive and degrading."
Before I can respond, Cat grabs my face and rises on her toes.
"I find it to be a huge turn-on," she claims with a kiss.
My girl has claws. Nice
"Fuck yeah," Quinn boasts. "You fit in perfectly with our side of the family."
"Whatever floats your boat." Mallory blanches and changes the subject. "I heard about the break-in. Can't believe something like that happened here. I've been worried sick it may happen again. I sure hope they catch the person responsible." She takes a pause, perhaps waiting for my response, but I have none. "Any leads on who sent you the letter?" she asks.
"How do you know about the letter?" I glare at her.
"Oh, we all know about the stalker situation." She waves her hand, and I don't second guess what she says because the walls have ears in this business. A couple more seconds pass in uncomfortable silence before the doors slide open. "This is my stop," Mallory chirps, and Quinn holds the door for her to step out. "Quinn, Cat, it was nice to meet you." The door closes.
"That was awkward," Quinn grunts.
"She's had a thing for me since we hired her, but I've never been interested."
"Does she know that?" Cat asks as we exit the elevator.
"I've told her as much." I punch in the door code.
"I don't think she's gotten the memo." Cat follows me inside my apartment. I stop and grab her in my arms, lifting her feet off the ground.
"I'm pretty sure you set her straight when you kissed me."
