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“Because they’re sick in the head? The both of them.”

I gave her a sharp look and she immediately took a step back. I rose to my feet with the shards I had gathered and threw them in the trash can. The truth was I wanted to fly to him, but I felt as if I had been hit by a truck and I needed a bit of time to process everything in my head. I turned to Sandra. “I’m not ready to make any decisions either way or even talk about this rationally. Let’s leave it for now and get on with the orders, okay.”

“Okay,” she agreed.

I managed to keep my cool for the remainder of the day until I closed the shop and walked to the van. I sat in my van and I knew exactly what I must do if I wanted to remain sane. I pulled out my phone and called his number but got the same response. It rang out. I felt a slight pinch of worry. What if Marie was right? The part of me that was afraid to hope immediately pushed the thought away.

I searched for Bradley’s number. Having to contact him or even speak to him brought a feeling of unease to my belly, but I knew I had to. I dialed and waited. He picked up on the second ring.

“I was wondering if I’d ever hear from you again,” he said, and I noticed that his voice was different, his words were slurred. He was either half-asleep or he’d been drinking.

I didn’t care.

“I want to know everything,” I said. “About what you found out about Caleb, how and where. Could you please send me all the links?”

For a couple of seconds there was silence from his end. Then he spoke, his voice sour. “Of course. The one time you contact me and it’s of course about him.”

I didn’t have time for his tantrum, but I didn’t want him to hang up on me either. Right now he was my starting point.

“Bradley—” I began.

But he cut me off. “Come over,” he said. “And I’ll tell you everything that you need to know.”

He ended the call and I was left staring at a silent phone. I was about to call him back to refuse when a text message arrived. It was his address. I didn’t hesitate. I started the van and drove to his house.

Bradley’s place was one of the old, smaller Southwest houses on the outskirts of Folsom. My thoughts kept drifting off to Caleb and I missed the directions from my navigation system a couple of times. When I finally found it, the light drizzle from earlier had turned into a full-blown downpour.

I didn’t have an umbrella with me, so I decided to run for his door and pound heavily on it. He must have been watching out for me because he answered before I could even start knocking. He ushered me in with a loose smile.

I could tell instantly that he was intoxicated. He grasped the doorknob tightly to keep himself stable, and his eyes … were glazed and oddly haunted.

“You’re finally here,” he said with a light slur. He shut the door behind him, and then turned to face me with a sly smile on his face. “And you’re wet.”

“Bradley,” I said with a frown. “Tell me everything you know.”

All the amusement disappeared from his face and he stared hard at me. “Why? Are you planning on forgiving him?”

I wanted to tell him that it was none of his business, but since it was clear he wasn’t fully sober the best thing for me to do would be to get the information I needed from him as peacefully as possible and be on my way as quickly as possible.

“Bradley, you came to me with unsolicited information about my boyfriend. Now I’m asking you for the details. Is that wrong? You were the one who told me to come over.”

The blank expression on his face was slowly replaced by an embarrassed smile. “You’re right. I’m being an idiot. You’re my guest. I’ll get you a towel.”

“No need, I just—”

“You want to be sitting down for what I have to say,” he interrupted. “The living room is through there. Have a seat and I’ll go get you that towel.”

He began to walk away and all I could do was head further into the dimly lit house. I was glad to see it was clean and neat. He wasn’t a slob. I didn’t want to be here longer than was necessary. I took a seat on an armchair and hugged myself. I felt wet and cold and wished he would speed things up.

He returned with a towel and handed it over to me. I accepted it, but for some weird reason I was loathe to let it touch my skin. Since he was watching, I lightly patted it down my wet arms before putting it aside.


Tags: Georgia Le Carre Billionaire Romance