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I’m safe here.
With his friends, with the security alerted to a potential problem. The police gave them a bulletin. Something about Henry with his new face. Not that he was ever arrested. No mugshot on file. The news came right from Caleb, and he confirmed to me that the police presence would be noticeable.
Seeing a photo of him now—even though I just saw him in person, it’s not the same—compared to my memory of him from when we first dated was shocking.
He changed his nose and hairline. Hishairline.
It’s strange. He had surgery on his face to fool everyone. To become Thomas. But it also served to not trigger my memory, which worries me.
What kind of psychopath goes through all of that just to mess with someone?
A horn blows, and I glance up at the scoreboard. The Titans are up by two. A stark contrast to game one, when they got steamrolled by the LA team. The Titans are rushing around celebrating, and the row of us leap to our feet. I join them in cheering and clapping, and Jacob comes skating over.
He presses his hand to the glass, and I quickly mirror it.
My smile’s brightness is unmatched.
By the end of the second period, Jacob’s scored twice.
“He’s on fire,” Knox crows. He hops to his feet along with seemingly half the people in the arena. “I’m going to get beer. Willow?”
Miles scowls at him. “Get fucked, man.”
Knox rolls his eyes. “It was a joke.”
“A bad fucking joke.”
I wince.
Willow sighs as Knox disappears up the aisle. “He tries. He was actually on a good streak for a while. But he’s just been getting worse the last week or so.”
Huh.
“I don’t suppose my wardens will let me go pee?” I ask her.
She cracks a smile. “Aspen and I will go guard the stall door for you.”
We let Greyson, Steele, and Miles know where we’re going. Violet joins us, and soon we’re heading back down. On the ice, there are little tiny players skating around. They’re fully kitted out in hockey gear, and they move in a pack around the ice.
It’s kind of cute.
But my heart aches at the sight.
Because I’m seventy percent sure I took the permanent solution when it comes guarding against pregnancy. Either that, or I went to a clinic for an entirely different reason. All I remember is walking in the door and feeling the pinch of paininside.
Did I do that to keep myself from having Henry’s babies? Oranybabies?
I don’t know. But telling Jacob what I suspect might just cost me his obsession.
56
JACOB
I’ve got a missed call from my private investigator. He’s kind of worn out his usefulness, as he got the Henry Armstrong thing so completely wrong. Well, the Thomas-Henry thing. He missed that. Missed that Thomas was a made-up person or a stolen identity.
I consider not calling him back. Last we left it, he was going through the restraining order. Melody told me we now have the bigshot defense attorney, Caleb Asher, on the case. He happens to know Mel’s friend, Lucille Page. And, surprisingly, my friends. He helped Willow out of a jam before. Smoothed over some legal shit for us involving a dead body…
Anyway.
