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“Yeah,” he whispers.
I lift my head, so I can look into his eyes. “That’ll be nice.”
He nods. “Yeah, I haven’t seen Kenz since she and Harper came down a few months ago. After that—”
“More traveling. More holidays.” I already have a sense of the drill by now. I’m trying to be optimistic about the whole thing, even if it sounds negative.
“It’s going to be tight through the end of the year.”
An idea comes to me, and I giggle, which sends a stab of pain through the muscles in my side. “Well, there’s always phone sex and video calls.”
“Sometimes, I really don’t know how to respond to you, Libby.” Riker’s laugh jostles my side as well, but I don’t regret the comment.
“I like to keep you on your toes.” And right now, jokes are the only way I can keep my mood up. The only way I can keep the panic from taking over and the tears from falling as I try to enjoy my last few fleeting moments with him under the darkened clouds left by the intruders.
* * *
When I pull up to my house. I spot Spiegel dashing across the yard with a stick in her mouth. Trent and Brooke sit on the front stoop. By the time I get to the trunk and open the hatch. Trent is heading my way and snatches the luggage.
“You know, most people come home from vacation rested and refreshed, not looking like they’ve stepped out of a bar fight.”
“Thank you, Trent. Always comforting. Though, I guess we both know I don’t do much like most people.”
“If I acted too serious, you might really worry.”
That’s the truth.“So, what have I missed in Ashville?”
“Nothing worth mentioning,” Trent says. “Although I’m sure Lewis will miss our witty banter next week.”
I look forward to reading those reports Monday morning. Whoever said vacations were good for mental health had obviously not spent much time around me.
“Trent learned the dangers of speaker phone.” Brooke puts her hand on her hips and gives him a smirk.
“Sorry about that.”
Brooke shrugs and retains her attention to Spiegel. “If we didn’t have a reason for a good fight now and then, we wouldn’t have a reason to—”
“You don’t have to finish that,” I say, rolling my head back to look up at the sky.“You guys want to come in for a bit? I can put on some coffee.”
Or dig up some whiskey.
Even though Trent lives about five minutes away, I’m not looking forward to a quiet, empty house just yet. There’s too much on my mind. And although I’m trying to convince myself that much of it is empty paranoia, I can’t help but wonder if whoever hired those men is satisfied since Riker broke them up early.
If they found me in Georgia, it’s not going to be hard to find me in my own home.
Trent carries my luggage up to the house, and as soon as I open the door Spiegel blasts past him, almost knocking his legs out from under him.
While I put on coffee, they settle in the living room.
“You get any updates from the police?” Trent calls in.
“Not really,” I grumble, stabbing the power button on the front of the coffee maker. “The guys seem genuinely clueless and they haven’t been able to track communications or the money transfers.”
“You think they’ll be back?” Brooke asks. “Well, obviously not those three, but whoever’s behind it?”
So much for personal paranoia. I give a noncommittal shrug. “They told the police they were just supposed to rough me up and give me a scare, so hopefully this is mission accomplished because from where I sit, they succeeded.”
“But who was the message for?” Trent asks.
