Page 152 of Slumming It

And yet, I still felt that nearly uncontrollable urge to gather her to my chest and shield her from all of those prying eyes peering out from open doorways up and down the hall, where the upturned carts and scattered mess remained.

Ignoring all of it, I stared down at Emily, savoring the sight of those expressive eyes, the cute nose, and the mouth that almost always looked on the verge of smiling.

She wasn't smiling now, but I knew in my gut that if I closed my eyes, I would see her smiling in my memories like she'd done so often during the month I'd made her my own.

But that was over.

Even so, I heard myself ask, "The guy with the golf club – who was he?"

"Jeffrey? He's just a customer, why?"

"What kind of customer?"

"At the pancake house. He's a regular." She bit her lip. "Or at least he was, back when I worked there."

Breakfast.

Shit.I should have caught that from the beginning. But the truth was, my mind was all kinds of messed up, and the sight of Emily wasn't helping.

I hadn't planned to see her again. And yet, now I couldn’t stop looking. I took a single step backward and eyed her from head to toe, making sure there were no signs of harm that I'd missed.

The purse was different – larger than normal – but she was wearing the same jeans and sweater that she'd been wearing when I'd dropped her off a couple of hours ago.

Those had been two of the worst hours of my life. And given how shitty the first part of my existence had been, this was truly saying something.

But that didn't change anything.

In the coldest voice I could muster, I asked, "So why are you here?"

"Because I know what you're hiding." Her troubled gaze met mine. "I just don't know why."

Chapter 60

Emily

The suite was just like I remembered – with one glaring exception. Every trace of me had been wiped utterly clean as if I had never been here at all.

There were none of my shoes in the corner and none of my books stacked on the end table. Even my phone charger, which I'd always kept in the same socket near my favorite sofa, was nowhere in sight.

I had to remind myself that I'd told Reese to give everything away. I just hadn't expected him to be so quick and efficient about it – or to toss all of thoseotherthings that I'd brought here on my own.

Where had he taken them, anyway?

Were they already rotting in a dumpster downstairs?

Or boxed up for Rita?

Did she even have the same model of phone?

Doubtful.My phone was like five years old, and given how importantshewas, hers was probably brand new. I gave a silent scoff. Good luck charging your new phone withthat,blondie.

Sure, part of me was irate. But mostly I was sad – and not about my things. Even on a modest budget like mine, possessions were replaceable.

People weren't.

That's why I was here.For him. Not for my stuff.

Emotions aside, this hadn't been easy. I'd had to run a crazy gauntlet just to make it up here at all.