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The guy shifted so he could see me better, but he was inspecting the opening between us, and seeing something or not seeing something, he suddenly kicked open the door.
I yelled, scrambling back.
He smirked at me, motioning to the door. “Never open a fucking door without the chain attached.”
Right. That’s what he’d been looking for. Apparently I got stupid when I had wine.
“Did you open the door?” Lo yelled. “Who’s there? Are you okay? Are you still alive? I’m shitting my pants.”
“What’s going on?” Roger’s voice came closer.
I was eyeing the guy now, who had remained standing in the hallway, an eyebrow raised up, waiting for me to do something.
“Billie just opened the door for the guy.” She told me, “We gave up on the number. Please tell me you’re still alive. Who is it? What’s the guy look like?”
He was… I considered the best phrase to describe him. The dirty blond hair. The ripped and lean body. The gun holstered on his hip, which was making my stomach feel a certain way because nothing was between us. The taser gun and handcuffs hanging on his other hip. The loads and loads of tattoos all over him. And then there’s his face, which didn’t seem right that he’d be that pretty with all that weaponry on him. I didn’t know why that made sense to me, but it did. “He’s a dirty golden tattooed warrior god.” He crossed his arms over his chest and I saw a badge hanging there on a chain from around his neck. “He’s a cop.”
“He’s what?” Lo barked.
“I’m not a cop.”
“He’s not a cop,” I repeated.
“I’m a bounty hunter.” He glanced away, muttered, “Fuck’s sakes.”
Roger must’ve grabbed the phone, his voice came out so much louder, “A dirty golden tattooed warrior god? Take a picture of him, just so we have it on hand.”
I did, also saying, “He’s not a cop. I don’t know if you heard that. He’s a bounty hunter.”
“A bounty hunter?” Roger was impressed.
The guy, who could hear everything, had tipped his head backwards. His hands were braced at his sides. I sent it to them.
Roger saw it first, “Oh. He’s good looking.”
Lo sucked in some air, like I had earlier. “Good looking? That guy is hot. And he’s a bounty hunter? If he says he’s there for Brett, I say go with him. And normally I wouldn’t ever say that, but if he’d been there to abduct you, he already would’ve. Plus, if it’s true and Brett’s in trouble, you need to go to him. What’s he doing now?”
“He’s still standing there.”
He rolled his eyes, his hands lifting up in frustration. “Your man is probably already doing something seriously fucking stupid and you’re still discussing this? My woman would’ve been out the door carrying a baseball bat and grabbing a bulletproof vest on the way the first second I mentioned anything.”
I lowered the phone and scowled. “Okay. One, I don’t know you. I don’t remember Brett mentioning a Chandler Montag—”
“My name is Channing Monroe.”
“—and Brett told me to stay put unless he himself came for me. Don’t know if you’re aware, but I had a couple run-ins with serial killers. That makes me cautious.” I caught sight of the door, that'd been kicked open. “Normally makes me cautious. Plus, I’ve already maybe pissed Brett off beyond repair which was why I was drinking that—” I swung around to point at the wine bottle, and I forgot that I’d opened a second one too. “—because I needed to calm my nerves. Not the best idea, but I felt really bad. And I was talking to my sister on the phone and she was making me feel a little better about it all.”
Lo gasped again through the phone.
“What?” Roger was now squawking. “What? WHAT? Why are you gasping?”
I could hear her tears. “She called me her sister. Roger, she called me her sister.”
I looked down at the phone. I was going to be a blubbering mess in two seconds. “I did. I—” I yelped as the guy crossed the threshold, grabbing my wrist, and he pulled me after him. “Ow! Ouch. I can walk, you know.”
“What’s going on?”
The guy plucked the phone from my hand, shutting the door behind us and tugging me after him. “My name is Chandler—” He cursed. “My name is Channing Monroe.” He rattled off a bunch of information. The phone number for the police department, then the phone number for the Roussou police department. He also gave his own personal phone number, followed with instructions to call his wife with her name and her phone number. For some reason, he gave the number of a restaurant called Manny’s, which I perked up about because Brett mentioned that place too, but for the love of me, I couldn’t understand why he was giving that information to Lo and Roger. Also, I doubted they were able to get everything down by the time he was done because he said it all so fast.
