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Eve bit her bottom lip, the nerves darting forth. She pushed them back. “I’d like to deliver the food on my own. I’ve no doubt he knows about my issues. I don’t want him to think he can scare me either. If I don’t want to think of myself as weak, then I need to prove it to myself. Do you think he’d be that stupid to put his hands on me?”
“I wouldn’t say those two are the brightest bulb on the tree. Gerald always had a short temper, unable to control himself. Gregory could be the same. I didn’t like how he looked at you.”
Eve shrugged. “I’m used to people staring at me. That’s all everyone always does in my life. Stare. Judge me. What’s one more person?”
“Okay, fine. I don’t like it, but I trust you to know what you want to do. I hate it when Griffin and Bryce try to do things to hold me back, and I won’t do that to you. Call me when you leave the place.”
“I can do that. Thank you. I appreciate your faith in me.”
“Hey, if you change your mind and you don’t feel comfortable doing it, that’s okay too. I didn’t go there by myself for a long time. I hate admitting he scares me, but he does.”
“I’ll be careful.”
With the conversation over and settled, Eve said good-bye and left. The drive home was uneventful. She honestly didn’t expect anything less.
She’d yet to get used to the alarm blaring in her ears before she managed to press the numbers to disarm it. It made her feel secure having it, especially with Griffin still at work. She plugged the numbers again, resetting the alarm.
After showering and changing into new clothes, she decided to start supper. Though when she looked through her fridge and pantry, nothing popped out and said, “Make me!” She settled on chicken and potatoes after much deliberation. The chicken defrosted in no time, then she added some seasoning to it. She peeled the potatoes, cutting them into small pieces and layering them around the chicken. She put the lid over the casserole dish and then shoved it into the oven. Then she cleaned up her mess, turning to the dish towel she had hanging on the wall to wipe her hands.
Her entire body froze.
Pink hearts splattered around a white towel stared at her.
That wasn’t right.
She knew she had hung up a towel with red, white, and blue stars on it. It was almost August. Not that Labor Day was close yet, but from May to September, decorating the house with the American colors felt appropriate for the summer season. She would never have hung up hearts.
Would she have?
No. Definitely not. She distinctly remembered hanging up the other towel two days ago.
Maybe Griffin changed it on her without her knowing.
Okay. That sounded like a more plausible explanation than the one rolling through her mind—that someone else had entered her house and changed the towel. But why? And if it was Darrian, why do little annoying things like moving her stuff around or changing a towel? What was the end goal?
She jumped, screaming when the doorbell went off.
With her heart racing, she walked to the front door and peered through the peephole. Her entire body jolted back.
It wasn’t Darrian on her doorstep, but the second worst thing to be standing there. His lawyer. A man who could cut through any red tape with nothing more than a rusty nail file.
A groan escapedas he shifted in his seat, the pain in his back flaring. Griffin should’ve gone to the hospital like Duke suggested, but he was already running behind and he didn’t like leaving Eve alone for too long.
It was nearing six o’clock and he should’ve been done by five. She’d been on her own for the past three hours. He’d busted his phone in the melee with Dicky, so he’d been unable to check in with her.
Juliet hadn’t called the office and had dispatch reach out to him, so he assumed Eve left without any issues. No calls to nine-one-one, so he could also assume no issues when she got home. Still. He needed to see with his own eyes that she was okay. Just because a week passed with no word from her brother didn’t mean nothing would happen.
He tensed when he pulled into his driveway, eyeing the man he didn’t recognize on her doorstep.
The aches and pains running up and down his body grumbled as he threw open his door and stalked to her house.
“Can I help you?”
The man turned, eyeing him up and down. Yeah, he didn’t look the best. His shirt had been ripped, so he’d changed into a T-shirt he kept in the trunk for times like this. He’d changed before he’d wiped all the blood off, so he smeared some on the shirt. He had the start of a black eye on the right side of his face, along with a bruised cheek. His left arm was covered in gauze where Dicky had swung the candy cane and cut him good. Not enough to warrant stitches, but enough that it bled.
“No, you cannot.”
Then the man turned back toward the door, knocking. More like pounding, in his opinion. Griffin knew Eve was home because her car sat in the driveway. Since it’d been at least a minute, going on two since he pulled in and exited his vehicle, he knew she wasn’t answering the door on purpose. This gentleman wasn’t Darrian, but he could only assume he was someone Eve knew.
