Page 15 of Reckless
“More like Jackson Cole’s goons scared him off.”
We share a giggle. The addition of security on set hadn’t gone unnoticed by the crew—or the cast. Three hunky, former military types pulled their eye as much as Griffin did. To their credit, they didn’t do anything to encourage any attention and always remained strictly professional. Sometimes I even forgot they were there when I could tear myself away from the office to supervise events and shoots on set.
“I’m just glad I was finally able to move back in.”
“Wasn’t the hotel Griffin sprang for pretty lush, though?” Emily asks.
I think of the thick, fluffy towels, the bathtub the size of a small pool, and the California king bed I already miss. “Definitely lush. I may have shed a tear or two when I turned in my key, but it’ll be nice to go back to my own space. Besides, Griffin’s done more than enough for me already.”
“You aren’t afraid to go back there after what happened?” She shivers a little, the dangling earrings sparkling in the flashing lights of the club. “I would be. I mean, damn, you could have really been hurt.”
“I’m more afraid of what it’ll mean if I let something like this scare me away from living my life again. Going back to normal.”
She still looks a little skeptical, but she says, “I can see that. I still think you’re crazy. Damn brave, but crazy.”
We both finish off another glass of wine, then hit the dance floor. I lose myself in the music, letting it take over my body and clear my thoughts. Taking Emily up on the offer for drinks after work was the best decision I’ve made in weeks. It’s the perfect way to toast our success and celebrate moving back into my apartment.
From waiting for another text message that never arrived to coordinating with the police, apartment complex, and cleaners to get my apartment back in working order, the week seemed never-ending. For a while there, it seemed like moving back in would never happen, but today I received word from the management company that the cleaners were done, and I could move back in. The police still didn’t have much to go on, but at least I could go home again.
As the music moves through me, I close my eyes and let myself feel the relief and pride for all the work we’ve accomplished so far. Emily had really outdone herself with the stills she’d taken. Even the one she’d snapped of Griffin and me had made the final cut. When it had gone live on our accounts, I thought it may incite the stalker to escalate, but so far, there’s been nothing.
A part of me even convinced myself that the messages had nothing to do with the break-in, but those pictures were pretty damning. The only question is why? It’s a question that haunts me late at night and in the spare moments that I have to myself throughout the day. It’s a question that simply doesn’t have an answer.
Emily and I stay at the club until well after midnight. Since it’s a Friday night, I won’t have any work waiting for me in the office, and I’m not required on set. It’s the first real day I’ve had off since moving to L.A., and I plan to go home and sleep until I can’t sleep anymore. It’s funny how much you covet sleep when you become an adult when it was the last thing you wanted to do as a child.
“Thank you for sharing a ride with me. I know it’s out of your way,” I tell Emily as she walks me to my door.
“Don’t sweat it, girlie. I just want to make sure you’re safe so I can head back to the bar and flirt with that bartender without worrying about you here all alone.” She holds her breath while I fish out the key. “You figured out the alarm system, right?”
“Yes, Mom, I had the maintenance guys walk me through it until I could program the damn thing in my sleep. I promise I’ll set it as soon as I close the door.”
She clings tight to my side as we do a quick walk-through of the apartment, which is now in pristine condition. The cleaners did an excellent job of making it look as close to brand-new as possible again.
“Wow, it doesn’t look like there was ever a break-in.”
“They did an amazing job, right?”
“Well, I still think you should beg Griffin to let you stay at the hotel forever, but I’m a greedy bitch. That place was swanky with a capital S. But I guess if you wanted to risk your life and stay here, then I don’t see why you can’t. For now. Promise me you’ll call me if anything happens.”
“I promise,” I say, then shove her toward the front door. “Now go get your bartender. I’ll be fine.”
She leaves, but only after she hears me bolt the door and set the alarm. I’d be lying if I said I’m not nervous about being alone again, but I’m determined to get back to normal as soon as possible. Which means living in my own place and not letting some creep scare me away. I’ve been through worse before, and if I could survive that, I can deal with some nasty messages and broken glass.
I continue thinking that until a few hours later when I check my phone.
Funny how it only takes one simple action for all my careful progress to be blown to smithereens.
Chapter Eight
Griffin
My whole body aches. Hell, I swear even my hair aches.
Today’s shoot wasn’t anything incredibly important, but it was physical as hell, and now I’m paying for it. As soon as I got back to my apartment, I took a shower with the water as hot as I could stand. Now I’m icing my back and drinking a cold beer, but only one, and trying to make it last as long as possible.
And trying not to think about Phoebe. More like trying not to worry about her being back in her place all alone. I’d tried to convince her to let me have Jackson’s guys watch her twenty-four-seven, but she wasn’t hearing it. Stubborn. Plain and simple.
Against my better judgment, I pull up her contact info on my phone and tap out a quick text message.