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“A grand gesture?” I murmur, my brows furrowed. “You think she’d go for that? She doesn't seem like a jewelry girl.” Although, she did look beautiful wearing my hand as a necklace the other night. I smile at the memory as my cock pulses to life. I drop Kat’s hand like it's burned me and shift away from her. How fucking awkward.
Pig,she’d say, before slapping the back of my head.
I shake all inappropriate thoughts of Rayvn from my head and change the subject, telling her all about Rohan’s news.
They say Alzheimer's is a silent killer, and they aren’t wrong. It’s one of the scariest diseases I’ve ever seen. One day you're fine, and the next, you're not. For some people, like Kat, it progresses slowly. For others, it’s a whirlwind experience that brings you face to face with not only mortality but losing a loved one right before you while you stand by helplessly and watch.
I was 18 when Kat was diagnosed. We did everything the doctors told us to. I became a full-time caretaker, one I would have gladly continued to be. But when things got too difficult for me to handle alone, Kat insisted I take her to a care facility. I refused to give up. I refused to stand by and watch the only person I loved be taken from me without a fight. There were no answers. No cures. No magic pills that would fix her and bring her back to me. There was no place I could send her where I knew without question, she’d be safe and cared for when I couldn't be there.
So–I made one.
I worked my ass off to make enough money to fund a company. I found investors and doctors. I found a pharmaceutical company and vetted the fuck out of them. We built an incredible facility, staffed it, and then…I openedRemény.
Remény is the Hungarian word forHope.The one emotion that I clung to when I buried the rest of them away so deep, I couldn't find them if I tried. I became a machine. Ruin lives. Make money. Donate money. Try to save Kat. Rinse and repeat. I went through the same cycle hundreds of times until finally, we had enough to start the drug research and formulation.
Two years ago, Kat took a turn for the worst and was moved intoRemény, which is the day-to-day medical facility for patients with Alzheimer's. We have a full staff of wonderful doctors and nurses, a board that oversees operations and finances. The company is a well-oiled machine and a prominent facility in the medical world. The money that comes in from patients' families and insurance fund Remény and keep the doors open, but the money I bring in goes directly to the research lab.
It may be too late for Kat, but I will do everything in my power to prevent other families from going through what we have.
Chapter Fifteen
October
“Mycoffeemugisin the wrong place,” I say slowly.
Silence greets my declaration as I stare at the offending cup with my head cocked to the side. “Your coffee cup,” Shiloh drawls, confusion clear in her voice.
I nod, pointing at it. “It’s not to the right of my Keurig on the drying mat, where I leave it every single night. It’s on the left, next to the banana hammock.”
“The banana hammock?” she asks, and this time I can hear a hint of humor in her voice, but I ignore it, refusing to deviate from my thoughts. I know I’m not wrong.
Spinning, I open the fridge and show her the evidence. “Now, normally, this wouldn’t be a big deal, but the creamer was on the second shelf instead of the first. My toothbrush wasn’t on the charger, like usual. My panty drawer was open an inch and my tank top was askew.”Leaving my meager tits hanging out for the world to see,but she doesn’t need to know that.
“Askew.” She says the one word so slowly that I swear it takes a solid ten seconds, and I quickly grow impatient. Turning the screen back to my face, I find myself nodding so hard I look like a bobblehead.
“A-fucking-skew.” Shiloh lifts Asher up and over her shoulder, patting his tiny little diapered tush while staring at me like I’ve grown a second head or put my tits on display as proof. “I’m pretty sure someone was here.”
That gets her attention. Her eyes bug out of her head. She opens her mouth to say something, but just then, the perfect little baby vomits all over his momma. She screeches and bolts up before running out of view, screaming for Logan. I sigh and drop my phone on the counter as I wait for her to come back.
Turning around, I close the distance between myself and the coffee maker once more. I don’t consider myself particularly methodical or anal about my stuff, but when you live alone and have for years, you develop a system. And when you spend as much time in your home as I do…
Yeah. That’s definitely not where I left my coffee cup. My brows furrow as I take a tentative step away. I slowly drag my gaze from the offending scene and look around the rest of my small apartment, checking for any other discrepancies. Not that I need more proof. I’m pretty solid in my theory at this point.
I’d be lying if I said a small thrill didn’t race through me at the thought of someone being in my house. I know it’s fucked up, and I’d probably benefit from a shit ton of therapy, but—the intrigue, the mystery. It’s as exciting as it is terrifying. As I walk around, taking in every inch of my apartment, I find one of my yellow throw pillows on the floor next to my couch. I bring it up to my nose and sniff the soft material. Smoke. Smoke and exhaust, along with something else. Something soft and spicy.Citrus.Orange and lemon? My heart pounds in my chest, and my palms grow clammy. The pillow slides from my hands, landing softly on the couch.
I whip around, this time scanning everything frantically. My eyes zero in on my front door, and I run to it, tripping over the rug in my haste. My palms slam against the wood as I test the doorknob and chain link.
Locked.
Everything feels heavy and weighed down as I drop my head forward onto the door and breathe through the panic. It takes me a few minutes to calm down and rational to seep it. Everything I found, everything that moved…I could have done those things. I could have walked in my sleep or could have still been out of it when I first woke up.
Yesterday, I took sleeping pills for the first time in my life, and it’s safe to say they knocked me the hell out. I slept solidly through the night, never waking once. When my alarm went off this morning, I had to physically force myself out of bed. The stress of everything going on with my dad and the Snow case has left me restless and sleep-deprived. Not to mention what happened at the club the other night with Wolfe. That was insane. And I was insane to let it happen.
It’s not the exhibitionism that bothered me or his roughness. In fact, I loved both of those things.A lot. I woke up the next morning, my throat so covered in bruises I had to wear a turtleneck to work. Lucky for me, I happen to love those restricting fuckers and wear them often, so no one even questioned my off-season wardrobe choice.
Wolfe’s harsh words and aggression didn’t scare me. The fact that he followed me there or sought me out, did cause me to freak out a bit, but not nearly as much as it should have. No…what bothered me the most—what isstillbothering me about the entire damn situation, is how completelyunbotheredI am.
My life feels like it’s tilting on its axis. My once boring and plain existence has now become so much more in such a short time. I barely know Wolfe. I don’t even know his last name. I’ve never seen his face. But I feel a connection with him that’s indescribable. I like him. I like him a lot.
