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I scroll to the next text.
I see you and he can't protect you.
I read the veiled threat behind the words and an uneasy feeling comes over me. Am I the he referred to? Because I sure as hell will do everything in my power to protect her. These texts are becoming increasingly sinister, and it sounds more and more like the sender is a fucked-up stalker.
“You need to speak to the authorities about this,” I tell her.
“What’s the point? They can’t do anything until there is actual physical harm.” She releases her hold of me completely this time and bends to reclaim her glass of what I assume is whiskey. I could do with some of that.
“That’s bullshit,” I tell her, a little more harshly than I mean to. I wander over to the kitchen where the opened bottle of Macallan is still on the counter. I get myself a glass and pour a generous measure. Turning back, I find Allie has taken a seat in a single armchair but still, the lamp remains off.
I carry the bottle and my glass over to the coffee table and shrug off my suit jacket, throwing it over the back of the sofa. Then take a seat on the adjacent sofa.
“What do you want to do then?” I ask.
With eyes still glassy, she says, “I don’t know.” She appears so helpless and fragile. It’s at odds with her usual ballsy confident happy attitude.
“Can I make a suggestion?” I ask, not wanting to take over, but be able to help in some way.
She nods and I continue, “Right. I have a friend who runs specialized security for celebrities in the city. He sometimes works with Ben, that friend of Blake’s who has a security company in DC. Anyway, he has some experience dealing with these kinds of threats.”
A tiny pinprick of hopeful light sparks in her eyes. “If you think he can help?”
I offer her an encouraging smile and say, “I’ll call him now,” then grabbing my cell, I scroll to my friend Todd’s number hoping he’s free to take my call and not on a job.
A half hour later and he’s agreed to come by on Monday to take a look at the messages and do some preliminary investigations. Todd is a former NYPD officer with local connections he can tap into. The call with him was on speaker, but Allie left it to me to do most of the talking. The only time she spoke was when Todd asked her directly if she knew of any reason for someone to be threatening her. She said no, but honestly, she looked pretty uncomfortable. The seed of doubt I have is growing branches. Gnarly, twisted branches. But I don’t want to push her and have her shut me out completely. At the moment, she trusts me to help her and if I have to do that with limited information, then I will.
Noticing her glass is empty and she still looks unsettled, I ask, “Do you want a refill?” Allie looks down at the glass clutched in her hand. I don’t think she even realized that she’d emptied it.
She nods and I splash some more of the burnished liquid into our glasses.
The silence between us lengthens. I want to unlock her thoughts into words, but I don’t really know how.
“Will you tell me what you’re thinking?” It’s a plea that probably won’t work but I have to try.
She places her glass on the table between us. “Logan, I really appreciate your help tonight. I feel safe here with you. That’s what I’m thinking. Thank you for that.”
Her words squeeze at my heart. She stands and I rise too. She looks up at me.
“What are your plans tomorrow?” I ask, before she can run away to her room again. It’s a Saturday so I can be free to make sure she’s okay.
A frown wrinkles her forehead. “I was going to do some more cleaning at my studio. But … after today’s experience I’m not sure now.” She explains how scared she was when the text came through and she realized she was alone.
“Let me come with you then. Until Todd can come on Monday, I don’t like the idea of you going anywhere alone.” Her smile replaces the frown.
“But don’t you have your own plans?”
“No, I’m free.” It’s not completely true, but I can easily cancel my trip to the beach house with Hunter or just go for the day on Sunday. “Besides, I was wanting to see your studio. And if it’s cleaning you need to do, then I can help with that too.”
She reaches out her hand to rest it on my arm. A zap of electricity runs down to my fingertips, and I nearly drop the glass held loosely in my fingers. She pulls her hand back quickly, bending to pick up her glass and take it to the kitchen. She felt it too.
I follow her and only when the counter is between us does she look up at me again. “If you’re sure you don’t mind that would be great. And thank you … again.”
With a tilt of my head, I drain the contents from my glass and walk around the end of the counter to put it into the dishwasher beside hers. She scoots out of my way and with a good night, she leaves me alone in the room.
Yet another night where I’m left standing alone in my kitchen. The difference with tonight is that I held her in my arms, and no matter how many times I tell myself it is purely to comfort a friend, it sure as hell didn’t feel like that to me.
Chapter fourteen
