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“I’ll just take a peek. I won’t disturb evidence.”
London clings to me. I’m holding on to her arm with both hands. She’s a few inches shorter than me, but she’s still holding me up.
Jacobi disappears inside, but the door opens wide enough to see the bloodbath. London sucks in a breath, and another tremor shakes me.
“Do you know who would do this?”
My laugh is rickety. “Some admirer.”
I let London go and hug my arms around myself. Standing on pavement in LA with the sun blazing down on me doesn’t stop chills from racking my body.
“Oh, Penni.” She leans her head on my shoulder. “Whoever did this is a piece of shit.”
It doesn’t seem like a good omen on the day I’m asking for a divorce.
The door opens and a metallic tang floats on the air. “No one’s here. You can come in, or I can arrange for a cleanup after the police get here and take what they need.”
I steel my shoulders. I’m an adult. This is my studio. I go inside, and nausea claws at my throat. There’s not as much blood as I first thought, but it’s smeared everywhere.
“It’s animal blood,” Jacobi confirms. At his feet is a grisly, fluffy pile.
I didn’t get to have pets growing up. I always wanted one. A cat. A dog. A hamster. Fish. I never had a chance to take care of an animal, yet one lost its life just so someone could scare me.
I can’t bring myself to look at the focal point of the mess again.
“I agree with you that it was probably a rabbit,” he says and squats. I rely on London’s eyes. I saw enough when I first entered. She still has her arms around me, but she’s watching him.
“There’s a sheet of paper.” His shoes scrape on the floor. I turn my head enough to see what he’s doing. He’s reading the paper. “ ‘You’ve disappointed me.’ ”
Tears spring into my eyes, and my pulse jacks right back up. I thought the letters would stay harmless. I didn’t think I’d find myself fearing for my safety.
He frowns at the paper, studying the writing, the cadence, the meaning. “London says you’ve been receiving letters. That’s been all until now?”
My nod is shaky.
London utters worries about who and what it means, but I’m watching Jacobi. People write off my dancing as superficial. They don’t realize that I’m an athlete. That the dress I wear is my team uniform. Like a competitive ice skater has learned to read judges and interpret their frowns, their scribbles, and track their hawklike gaze around the rink, I’ve learned to read people.
Jacobi shows no surprise.
Do his invasive tendencies reach beyond his wife? Of course. He’d want to know everything about the people she spends time with. “How long have you known?”
London whirls on him. His mouth flattens. His annoyance with me calling him out in front of his wife is palpable, but I don’t care.
“Cannon. He mentioned looking into it.”
What? The walking red flag who wears Hawaiian shirts and wrinkled shorts and oozes dirty sex in a back alley? The guy who looks at me like my dress, my heels, and the dancing skills I’ve worked on perfecting my entire life are as worthless as a gum wrapper on the sidewalk? The man puts me on edge because there’s something so familiar about him and I can’t put my finger on it. I swear I’ve seen him before, but I have no idea where we would’ve crossed paths. He certainly doesn’t run in Roman’s crowd.
He’s looking into it already when I told London just this morning I didn’t want his help? What the hell does that mean? How does he know?
I tear myself from London’s grasp. “How the hell would he know?”
Jacobi’s unfazed. His hulking form is a comfort when I’m scared spitless, but anger’s creeping in. What is Cannon finding when he’s “looking into it”?
What would he think if he learned how Roman treated me? Would he think I’m as daft and insipid as he suspects? I see it in his eyes when he looks at me.
Shame brands my cheeks.
“You’re important to London.” Jacobi turns to me. “Therefore, you’re important to me. Cannon, Kase, and I watch out for each other and for those who are important to us.”
