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This piece of shit had managed to get into Nost at least twice and was right now in it again, preying on unsuspecting women.
This asshole had grabbed Emma’s arm at the bar.
Xavier felt his blood boil as he called his friend, the Chicago detective. He didn’t know if there was anything that could be done, but he sure as hell would find out. He got voice mail and left a message. He pulled up some of Emma’s messages and realized the ex-con had tried to message Emma again, this time under his new profile. Xavier wished he could pull up her location, but even he couldn’t do that from the code in his office. He’d need a new profile on Nost, and fast, in order to find her and even then, that might take too long.
But he had to warn her, he thought. If Emma was anywhere near this man, he had to find her. The man was dangerous.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
EMMA SAT WITH the friendly, but a little bit bland, guys who’d bought drinks for them. She was pretty sure two of them were interested in Sarah, but one—the blond with the average build—was absolutely fixated on her. He kept finding reasons to touch her, which Emma wasn’t so sure she liked. He seemed nice enough. Casey, who lived around the corner in an apartment he shared with the two friends he was with, was working a low-level accounting job, but hoping for advancement. They were exactly the same age, but somehow that just didn’t feel quite right. His friends kept trying to order Jäger shots, which just made Emma’s stomach turn. Clearly, these fellas hadn’t left the college binge-drinking scene behind just yet. The way they slammed beers made Emma think about frat parties and keg stands. She sighed. She missed Mr. X: his sophistication, the way he seemed...beyond all the immaturity.
Except for the fact that Mr. X wouldn’t even give you his real name, a voice in her head reminded her. At least Casey here gave his full name right off the bat. And she knew so much about him already in the first five minutes: Boston College grad, licensed accountant, loved college football and camping. Wanted to take her sometime, he said, to Starved Rock, his favorite local campground. Emma tried to muster up some interest, but just failed. He was nice enough, but just dull.
Then, she wondered if it was because she knew too much about him. Had Mr. X been right? Did knowledge make a person...boring?
“One time when we were camping...” Casey continued, happy to steer the conversation, as Emma nodded and smiled weakly. As Casey spoke, relating some tale about raccoons getting into his cooler and stealing a beer, Emma tried to block out his voice. She studied his blue eyes, his average, but somewhat cute face, and wondered: Would she have sex with this man in an alley at dusk? In a public restroom at a fancy hotel?
Inwardly, she shook her head. It didn’t matter if she knew everything about him or nothing, she decided. Casey just didn’t light that spark in her.
Mr. X was different. Special, somehow. He had to know that.
“And then we found that he’d somehow popped the top of the can. Can you believe that? Raccoons, man...they are smarter than you think.”
Casey finished his story and Emma laughed politely. She glanced at Sarah and couldn’t tell whether or not she enjoyed the attention of Casey’s friends. Would she be up for bailing? Now? Sarah flipped her red hair off one shoulder. Looked like she might be flirting with one of them...or hell, both, for all Emma knew.
“Well, this guy needs to go drain the snake,” Casey said, getting up from his bar stool. Emma flinched a little at the vernacular. Did he have to say it that way?
Emma just nodded and Casey sauntered into the crowd, looking for the men’s room. Emma felt her phone buzz in her pocket and she tugged it out of her jacket. She glanced at the face and saw a text from Mr. X.
Where are you?
She felt a ripple of anticipation run through her. He hadn’t contacted her for a week! Emma thought Sarah had been right—he’d been done and it was time to face facts: that whatever they had was just a temporary thing. But, here, on her phone, was proof that Mr. X hadn’t walked away. Not just yet, anyway. And he hadn’t been in a car accident, either. No, here he was on her phone.
Emma felt such relief, such joy, that he’d contacted her, she immediately started typing a reply. I’m drinking at...
Then she paused. He’d kept her at bay for a whole week. Kept her wondering, kept her hanging. She had every reason to be angry at him, she reasoned. She thought she might never see him again! He let her think that. Besides, if she let him in, if she invited him out, they’d just end up with steamy, amazing sex, and then he’d probably just disappear again. Is that what she wanted? No, she decided. Not this time.
