Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 68177 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68177 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
“What the fuck is going on? You two are freaking me out.”
“Last night, someone broke into my place and trashed it,” I tell him, expecting him to react, but he just stares at me, unblinking. “I wasn’t home. Braxton and I were at his cabin.”
“I have people looking into things,” Braxton cuts in, sitting on the couch on the opposite side of me. “The cops are involved and up to date on what’s happened.”
“Do you have any idea who did it?” Jamie finally speaks, and I look at Braxton. He’s been on the phone all day off and on with the cops and the people he hired, but has been keeping things to himself, so I don’t really know what’s going on.
“We don’t.” Braxton rests his hand on my thigh. “We’re still waiting for them to look at the footage from the cameras in the building, and the police are running the prints they picked up off the package, but it might be a few days before we hear anything from that.”
Jamie mumbles something I can’t understand as he scrubs his hands down his face, and then he runs his hands through his hair. “So, until then?”
“We just have to wait.” I shrug. “I know it sucks, but there is nothing else we can do right now.”
“Are you going to stay here with him or do you want to come stay with me at my apartment?” he asks, and Braxton stiffens, his hold on my thigh becoming almost painful.
“I’m going to stay here.” I lower my voice when I have his attention then continue, “Please don’t be mad.” I don’t want to upset him or make him feel that I’m choosing Braxton over him, but I feel safe here. Even with everything going on, I’m not afraid, and I know that’s because of the man at my side.
“I’m not upset. I get it. Besides, I think you’re safer here anyway.” He leans back to rest his ankle on his knee. “I’m gonna tell the guys what’s going on, and they might want to come check on you.”
“They’re welcome here anytime,” Braxton says, and I cover his hand with mine, giving it a squeeze, hoping he understands how much that tiny gesture means to me. “What are you doing tonight?”
“Nothing, what’s up?” Jamie asks.
“My parents are here, and we’re planning on going out to dinner. You can join us if you like.”
“Please join us.” I hold my hands in the prayer position.
Jamie smiles at me. “Yeah, all right,” he agrees, and I lean over and hug him. When I let him go, he stands, locking eyes with Braxton. “Since I’m here, why don’t you give me a tour of your pad?”
Without a word, Braxton kisses the side of my head and gets up.
I look between the two of them and fight the urge to roll my eyes. “You two do know I’m not an idiot, right? I know you’re going to go talk about me.” I wave them away. “Go on. Go make each other feel better.”
Both men laugh as they walk off, and I smile to myself.
I pick my cup of tea back up and take a sip, relieved that’s done and wondering what’s next and what will happen when this is over. Until yesterday, I didn’t know Braxton had a valid reason for his over-the-top behavior. I didn’t know there was a viable threat against me, a threat that was a catalyst for his overprotectiveness. I just wonder how much he will change when this situation is taken care of. A small part of me hopes he doesn’t change too much. I like that he’s protective and possessive. I like that he cares enough about me to worry. Then again, maybe I’m just as crazy as he is.
Shutting the door on the dishwasher a little later, I hear the front door open right before Alisha and Bret appear carrying large black garbage bags that are leaving a trail of water across the floor.
“Girl, if I find out who did that to your apartment, I’m going to shoot them,” Bret grumbles in my direction before taking the bag from Alisha and carrying it to where I know the laundry room is. I watch him go, wondering if I messed up. Maybe I should have stayed to clean up and not allowed them to help.
“We saved a lot of your clothes. They just need to be washed,” Alisha tells me as I grab a towel to clean up the floor. “And I put all your underthings in a separate bag, since I didn’t know if you would want to keep them.”
I meet her concerned gaze. “I really appreciate you doing that.”
“You’re welcome.” She looks to where her husband just disappeared then whispers, “Bret isn’t mad at you; he’s just really worried about this situation. We both are.”