Page 17 of Blood (A Killer’s Love #4)
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Kaleb
My earlier good mood has vanished. They weren’t at the station, and McCallister was his usual annoying-as-fuck self. He kept me there for hours, repeating the same questions over and over.
Fuck. Is it too early in the evening to go back to bed and call it a day?
My office clock reads six o’clock. And to top it off, Sam still hasn’t texted me back. My eye twitches again.
Toeing out of my shoes, I wiggle my toes. My injured skin stretches. It’s not painful, just irritated, like the rest of me.
Opening my top drawer, I search for painkillers, cursing when I find the box empty.
Lifting it high, I wave it, trying to gain Pauline’s attention in the other room. When I do, she gives me a thumbs-up.
Perfect.
Grabbing my cell, I call Samantha. It goes to voicemail again. “Call me back. We need to talk.”
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I sigh. Great, I’m getting a tension headache.
I am many things, but patient isn’t one of them, so I call again. And again. By the fifth call, I’m beyond irate and throw it on top of my desk.
Fine. She wants to act like a fucking child, then I’ll treat her like one. I pick up my cell again, but this time, I scroll to a different name.
“Hey, Kaleb.”
“Hi, sweetpea, is she with you?” I ask, trying to match Shelby’s light tone.
“Who?”
It seems avoidance is contagious.
I drop all pretense of niceness. “Give Samantha the phone.”
“You’re on speaker,” Shelby murmurs.
“I’ve been calling and texting you.”
The other end of the line stays silent for a second before Sam mumbles, “I don’t have my phone.”
“We’ve talked about this, Samantha.”
“You’re not my fucking dad,” she snaps.
My jaw actually drops at her words. “I noticed. The other night made that particularly clear,” I shoot back.
Both girls gasp. Did she tell her best friend what happened?
Now is not the time, I remind myself. So I change the subject. “What’s this I hear about a belated Halloween party?”
“None of your business,” Sam answers.
“Shelby?” I ask, hoping to get more from her.
“I told you that I don’t like Halloween. I invited a few friends over, but then the burglaries started happening. Everyone canceled their trick-or-treating plans, so I called off the party.”
“So it’s canceled? Then why am I hearing about it from Edward’s dad?”
The news of a house party at Shelby’s nearly sent me over the edge earlier today. Where Shelby is, Samantha isn’t far behind.
“Well, it was canceled, but then everyone heard what happened, and they wanted a party to relax. Some of the parents and kids are trick-or-treating today instead, so I thought, why not? It’s nothing huge, just a few friends, food, and films. More of a movie night,” Shelby rushes to add, but it doesn’t make me feel any better.
“No alcohol, and make sure you lock up after everyone leaves. I’m sure you’ll have fun, but Samantha won’t be there.”
The girls respond at the same time.
“Yes, I will!”
“Why not?”
Ignoring Sam’s rebuttal, I choose to answer Shelby’s question instead.
“She’s grounded.”
“No, I’m not!”
“Awww, what for?”
Again, I focus on Shelby’s question.
“For not having her phone and being unavailable. Clearly having a word about it wasn’t enough,” I lie. “ I don’t want you going to a party without me” probably wouldn’t fly too well.
“You can’t ground me. I’m not a fucking child, Kaleb.”
“Yet you’re acting like one. Stop fucking ignoring me.”
“Go fuck yourself,” Sam hisses before the line cuts off.
“I’d rather be fucking you,” I reply with no one to hear.
Shit.
“Do I even wanna know?” Pauline tuts, pushing my door open, a bottle of water in one hand and a packet of painkillers in the other.
The perfect woman.
“Thank you,” I mouth, taking both.
When she sits on the corner of my desk with a raised brow, I shake my head. “Women.” That’s the only explanation I give.
“Tell me about it,” she huffs. “One of the new hires just called out sick again. A woman,” she adds when I give a confused look.
“Which one?”
“Justine.”
“That’s the fourth time this quarter, and we’re only a month in,” I state.
“I know,” she agrees, “hence . . . women.” Pauline stands, pushing off my desk. “I need to find someone to take it. Most are already out on jobs.”
“I’ll take it,” I say without thinking.
“What? No, after everything that happened last night, you should be at home resting.”
True, but I need space more. “It’s fine. My house is trashed, and the cops have not released it yet. I could do with getting out of town for a few days.”
“The contract is for Wilder Furniture in Virginia. There and back will be about six days.”
Perfect. “How about we call it seven?”
“Want me to book you a motel near Charlottesville?” Pauline offers.
“No, thank you. I’ll sleep in my truck.”
Ideas of how to extend my drive pop into my mind, but even now, not knowing where Sam and I stand, the idea of fucking someone else doesn’t appeal. I just want her.
Another kill will just have to do.