That was probably why it was proving so damn hard to stay away from her, keep my hands off of her. Because, whether I truly understood it or not, I was interested in her. In more than a fun, casual way. Or, at least, that was what it felt like. What the fuck did I know? I had no experience with anything other than casual when it came to women.
I was still waiting to hear back from Sawyer when my phone started to ring on the counter in the kitchen.
I felt a strange swirling tightness in my stomach as I saw Miranda’s name there.
Because something within me told me that she wasn’t willingly calling me to talk about her day or something like that.
Something happened.
“Miranda,” I answered, hearing a choked sound to my own voice.
“Brock,” she responded, voice shaky.
I was already moving through the apartment and out the door.
“Where are you?”
“Work,” she responded in that same uneven voice.
“What happened?”
“Hey, Brock, it’s Cam,” Cam’s voice said.
“Cam, what the fuck is going on?” I asked, taking the elevator down.
“Miranda was attacked.”
“What the fuck do you mean she was attacked?” I asked, racing through the lobby and outside, side-eyeing the doorman as I went, since I still hadn’t marked him off my list. Though, clearly, he was still at work.
“She decided to take a walk to go grab lunch. To clear her head,” he added, and his voice was going lower, like he was trying to keep Miranda from overhearing, and getting her even more worked up.
“And?” I growled, hailing a cab, then throwing myself inside, knowing it would take much longer to use my car and find parking once I got there.
“Someone caught her between buildings and shoved her into the wall.”
“Fuck. Is she hurt?”
“She’s a little scratched up. But I think she’s more freaked out than anything.”
“Was she mugged? Did they take anything?”
“No.”
That was… bizarre.
It wouldn’t have been completely crazy for her to have been targeted to be mugged. Looking like she looked. Wearing the nice shit she wore. Anyone who knew anything about brands would have seen her and known there would be a nice amount of cash in her wallet.
But if they didn’t take anything… what the fuck was the point of attacking her?
I mean, sure. It was the city. Sometimes there were just crazy and violent people around. But just random acts of small amounts of violence weren’t that common.
“Did they say anything to her?” I asked.
“Not that she heard, no.”
“Okay. I’m five minutes away. Can you make sure the security lets me up?”
“Already done,” he said. And of course it was. This was Cam, after all.