Chapter 43
One Month Later
Kitty lowers her cup, giving me a side-eye glance. “So, does that mean Lonnie isn’t here anymore?”
“It doesn’t mean he’s not.” I rest my teacup on the coffee table a touch too loud, and I wince as the fine china clatters.
“I know,” she says. “But a month with zero sightings or contact, surely—”
“It’s just very unlike him is all.”
“I’m not disregarding you,” Kitty says softly. “Without question, you know him better than most. It just seems odd.”
I scoff. “Nothing is odd to me concerning Lonnie.” A minuscule thread of anxiety pops and frays as I sink into the couch. “You know that everyone at school called Lonnie dumb while we were kids? They didn’t know he had an IQ of 175. Some idiot.”
Her delicate shoulders twist at my words. “Some of the most prolific killers were geniuses.”
“Exactly. Which is why I’m suspicious of the radio silence.”
“And what does Grant say to everything?”
“That he’s probably gone, but we shouldn’t take chances. I’m holed up in here indefinitely, it seems.”
Doe eyes scan the penthouse in awe, then she shoots me a glance of approval. “Not exactly torture, if you ask me.”
“Definitely not.” I agree. Grant’s house makes the ever-growing confinement seem less suffocating, but as the weeks drag on, apprehension grows. However, voicing complaints right now feels so wrong. I clamp down on my lower lip, silencing the urge to bitch about my situation.
Quiet lingers as Kitty drains her teacup. The silence lets up when her cup and saucer tap against each other as she places the items on the coffee table. Only then does she resume the conversation. “Where is your beau tonight?”
The question doesn't sit well with me, but that's not Kitty's fault. I shrug. “He said he'd be stuck in a meeting with Alan for a while.”
“Mm.” Her smooth forehead creases, causing fading makeup to cake together. “You don’t look happy about that.”
My gaze falls to the floor. “He’s been gone a lot this week. Last week too.”
Too much. My heart screams. Too much. And the distant, cold arm I’ve been getting the last few nights isn’t helping.
Seems like the chair sex served as our curse, because everything amazing fizzled after that.
“Gone?” Her head cocks as she brings polished hands to refix her hair bun. “Like how much gone?”
I meet her gaze, baby blue to my green. “Like every night the past two weeks 'gone,' and he doesn't get back till late.” A sigh of distress comes out, even though I've tried to stop it, and I know she deciphers what I'm thinking. I can see it as she blinks with concern. “Kitty—”
“Don't overthink it, honey.” She leans forward, closing some of the gap between the couch and the loveseat. “An overactive imagination does no one any good.”
“Am I overthinking it, though? He didn’t come home a few weeks ago, and when I called him, I heard a woman’s voice.” I raise my hands up in surrender. “He's not coming home till God knows when, and he doesn't want me going to work. Even the meetings I should be going to are off limits. He tells me to 'rest.'” A sickness hits my stomach. “I don't think I'm blowing this out of proportion. I think he … I think he's seeing som…” My voice fades off. The words are just too gut-wrenching to utter.
“And I think you’re wrong,” she pipes up. “Do you have women on your security team?”
“Of course, we do,” I mutter. “I’m just—”
“You need to think this through a little better, honey.”
I'm not stunned by her disagreement. Kitty plays the peacemaking advocate, all the time, but that doesn't mean I have to like it. The leather couch hugs my back as I slouch into it, arms cinching across my chest. “Go on.”
“Consider this. Consider how busy a man like Brexton is, to start. Then you come along, and whatever free time he has, he devotes to you and then some.” She smooths back a fly away as she continues. “Now you add the problems with Lonnie and the confession of your past. Nothing to take lightly. Plus, the issue with Lonnie stalking you demands immediate and full attention. That said, business for him doesn't stop, but now he has to find a way to protect you and deal with all this new information. A big portion to anyone's plate.” Her shoulders pull up, then drop. “See where I'm heading with all this?”
I rest my chin into my palm, contemplating it all. After a moment, even though I feel bad for doing so, I shake my head. “But Grant didn't even seem fazed when I told him everything. Even when he's asked for more details, he hasn't said much.”
“Which tells me he doesn't want to alarm you.” She stands, picking up both our empty teacups, then heads to the kitchen. “Trust me, honey, reaction or no reaction, he has to cope too.” A loose wisp of hair flies about as she turns to look over her shoulder. “Don't be too hard on him, and don't assume the worst.” Her eyes and nose squint in a jovial tweak. “He's crazy about you. Let him have some space, and it will all work out.”
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