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Still doesn’t explain why my phone is at his house or how it got here. I’ve racked my brain and determined that I can’t remember using it at my house at all. I had it with me at The Hyatt, then Daddy called me on it. I talked to Ben then messaged him to meet me at my house for lunch. The only way Rigger could have had my phone was if I left it at the office and he went there to get it and bring it home. But why would he do that instead of bringing it to me? That just makes zero sense whatsoever.
The other thing that’s messing with my head is the very real possibility that either Greer or Ben took it. But if they did, why the hell would they bring it to Rigger? No matter how many possible explanations I come up with in my head, none of them make any logical sense.
I get to Shooter’s a little past five o’clock and the only bartender that Rigger talks to isn’t even working. Making this whole journey a lost cause.
But, there’s hope. Because it’s still early enough in the evening that I can get a replacement phone. I won’t be able to retrieve any texts but I can get my voicemail and any messages that he may have sent through social media.
An hour later, I’m sitting in my car, rocks in my stomach as I download the most important apps from the cloud to my new phone. I had to settle for a downgrade due to low inventory but I don’t really care. I’ll get mine back eventually. For now, I just need a way to communicate. It’s taking too long, though, and without internet it’ll keep taking forever.
Groaning, I shoot Ben a quick message, letting him know what’s going on in case he texted me in the last few hours, and by the way, does he know where my phone is? I don’t tell him I know where it was last spotted.
I then peel out of the parking lot and head to my condo because it’s closer than Daddy’s house. Walking inside, it feels eerily empty without Ritz here to greet me. But with my ultra-fast internet speed, the first app comes in from the cloud in a matter of seconds. And the message I see is from the one person I least expect.
Devin.
Hey girl. Just had a strange call from Rigger wondering where you were. He seemed pretty anxious to get up w you. Hope all is okay …
I check the timestamp:3:17. I reply right away.
I’m okay, just lost my phone and had to get a new one. Did he say what’s up?
I close the app and see that another one has loaded. Facebook. Sure enough, he’s messaged me there.
Tov, check your voicemail for fuck’s sake. NOW goddamnit!
The urgency of his message startles me.
Christ.
He was last active two hours ago but I reply nonetheless.
Checking right now. Sorry, I lost my phone. What is going on???
I don’t know why I’m asking when I could just call my freaking voicemail and listen to what he said. It’s frustrating that they won’t download from the cloud.
My hands are trembling and sweaty and my heart feels like it’s about to beat out of my chest. Maybe he’ll see my reply right away and go ahead and call me.
I dial my number and go through the prompts to listen to the messages, wandering to my balcony and leaning against the rails as I enter my password. There are a few older messages on there that I never deleted, one of which belongs to Jackson. I think about how weird it is that the one person I should be bonding with right now—my sister—is the one person I have no interest in spending time with. I really do hope this feeling passes.
Finally, I hear Rigger’s sleepy, deep voice. He called at 6:02, twelve hours ago.
“Good morning. Just wanted to let you know I’ll be at the Hyatt before nine in case you need anything. I won’t interrupt you … or get all up in your grill.” I laugh softly. A private joke between us. “But, well, you know. I have to keep an eye on you, whether you want me to or not. Also …” He pauses, clears his throat. “If you wouldn’t mind, keep your gate open when you leave. I put a security camera by your pool last night—one of those cheap-ass deer cams but it was all I had on me, and I wanna stop by and get it.” Another pause. “And yes, I tried to get in the pool house last night but the door was locked. Okay … good luck, Vay. Hope all goes well. You know I’m here if you need me.”
I touch my lips, and my body shivers remembering his kiss.
There’s another voicemail from him, around noon.
“Tove, check your texts. Bye.”
Okay, that’s not at all cryptic. Or helpful.
He speaks again, at 1:38. Sounding as irritated as ever.
“Hey, I just left your house with the camera. Ben’s car was there so I didn’t knock on the door. Although now I wish I had,” he groans. “I looked at the footage on that deer cam, and … it looks like someone might be in your pool house. It’s grainy as fuck … I can’t be sure. I’m going to stop back over and leave a better camera I can monitor with my phone. But I wouldn’t stay there if I were you. I know you said your dad was doing some remodeling so it could be one of the contractors, but … I don’t know. I don’t feel good about this. I think you should change plans and stay at a hotel. Or maybe Devin’s, if you feel comfortable with that.” A pause. “Fuck it. I’m going to call her, see if she’ll check on you because that’s the other thing. I—” There’s a beep in the background. “Shit. I have to take this call. I’ll call back. Just … hang tight for a sec.”
I rub my forehead. I’ve never heard himthisall over the place. And all because of me. I feel unsettled, though. He thinks he saw someone in the pool house? I think Ben did too, the way he was staring out the French doors, asking me who was out there.
And Daddy telling me to stay away from the pool house while he’s out of town sends icy daggers through me.
