Chapter Forty
Kurt
Thank fuck, it seemed like this mess was over. It had been three days without any new developments. The only missing link was where Amanda had used the computer to communicate with Jennifer.
The bottom line was Amanda was unstable, to say the least. Voices in her head, aliens had stolen the baby I’d made with her and put it in Sawyer, I had proposed and promised her forever until I met Sawyer—the list of delusions was endless. Her lawyer was trying to convince the prosecutor that she wasn’t fit to stand trial but should be remitted to a mental facility instead. If she was considered to be sane, she’d stand trial.
I wanted her to pay.
Normally, I wasn’t a vengeful person, but this psycho deserved something far worse than a stay at some mental hospital for what she’d done. I pressed my palms against my eyes as the elevator ascended to our apartment. Fuck. Let this be over.
At least our initial recordings of “Found” had gone well. We were hoping to release it within the next two months if all went according to plan.
Having our own label was the way we wanted to go with the band. The settlement from the douchebags at our previous label would be sent over this week. Between Garrick and me, they were fucked.
At least that shit was over. One more thing off the list, and on to the next. Tonight, Cameron was coming over so we could tell him about Adriane. Then, we were going to call Sawyer’s parents. She was adamant about never wanting to see them again. The fucking mob. What the fuck were they thinking?
Last year, I’d been assured they were clean when I learned they’d met with Navarro. And when I talked to Knoah this morning, she confirmed it wasn’t a lie. But now, they might have been involved in the plan to take Knoah. Or it might have gone deeper. We weren’t sure. .
Double fuck.
The elevator doors opened, and I grabbed my bag from the floor. Next on the list was my father. We’d be having dinner with him somewhere in the middle of the month. He’d wanted it sooner, but I figured we might need some time to plan. I was ready to be done with all of these people. But I wanted to space it out and not put too much pressure on Sawyer.
I walked into the apartment and called out, “Sawyer?”
“In here.” Her voice came from down the hall. There was something amazing about coming home and having Sawyer there waiting for me.
At the bedroom door, I stopped. Sawyer sat in the middle of the floor with her shirt raised up and her stomach covered in sticky notes.
Oh shit. Has she gone crazy? I knew she loved the silly things, but this seemed a little…extreme. Approach with caution. I cleared my throat and asked, “What’s going on?”
She looked up at me with a pointed finger and narrowed those gorgeous brown eyes. “This is your fault. I forgot my hair appointment this morning. Totally slipped my mind. It’s the Hendrix factor taking over my body!”
“So you covered your stomach in sticky notes?”
From the way her nostrils flared, I knew I was in trouble. Oh shit. I held up my hands.
“This is not funny, Kurt! Do not mock me. I’m trying to let the baby absorb organization and the love of colors and sticky notes.”
“Okaaay…” I glanced over at George, who was covered in them, too. What else could I say and not get in trouble? Sticking with okay seemed the safest way to go.
Sawyer waved her hands about. “I figured George needed a dose of organization, too. He’s been leaving his toys all over the place. I’ve tried to tell him to put them away after he’s done.”
It was hard to keep a straight face. I felt sorry for our poor dog and looked his way. “Is it working, George? You feeling the need to pick up after yourself?”
He looked at me with those big brown eyes, begging me to save him from this hell. Then I noticed something around his neck. “Is that a bow tie?”
“Yes, compliments of Waldo. He sent it this morning. Since George is his dog godchild, he figured he needed lots and lots of accessories like him. Isn’t it adorable?”
George cocked his head to the side as if to say, “Please, make her stop.”
Sawyer checked the time. “Cameron will be here any minute.”
I realized that some of this was the nerves about talking to her brother and confronting her parents tonight. Fuck it. If this helped her get through it, I’d wear them, too. I grabbed a few and put them on my stomach. Sawyer stopped freaking out and smiled. Bingo. “I figured this might help me absorb some of your love for color.”
I waited for her to take them off, but she pulled her shirt over her sticky-note covered stomach. Umm, okay…So that meant I couldn’t take mine off, either. “Are we leaving these on?”
“You bet your ass. I want the colors to absorb into Dylan. For him to embrace this. Two human slobs and a dog slob…my sanity won’t be able to take it.”
I mashed my lips together to keep from laughing too much. “He’s going to be born looking like a bag of Skittles.”
She slapped my shoulder and patted her shirt. “He will not. Be nice.”
Leaning down, I gave her a kiss, glad to see that she was relaxing a little. “Admit it, you love my mess.”
“Let’s just stick with I love you.”
As we walked to the kitchen, it occurred to me that at some point, we were going to have to decide where we wanted to live. Shaw Tower was not a permanent solution with a baby on the way. Sawyer went to the fridge and brought out a couple of trays of food. Savory wraps and dips lined the tray. “Those look good.”
“Thanks. I wasn’t sure what to do about telling Cameron. So I cooked.”
I grabbed a chip and plopped it into the crab dip. “Delicious, too. You need any help?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
At the counter, Sawyer kept fidgeting with the food, placing it in different arrangements. I needed to reassure her. Together, we could survive anything. I wrapped my hands around her stomach and felt the paper crunch. “It’ll work out.”
“I hope so, Kurt.”
Knock. Knock. Knock.
George ran to the door and barked. “It’s okay, boy. It’s Cameron.” He sat and looked at the door, waiting to make his own judgment. This morning Cameron had been cleared by security. I kissed Sawyer’s cheek and said, “I’ll get this.”
At the door, Cameron stood with Monica. George walked over to Sawyer, forming a barrier. Handing me a bottle of wine, Cameron said, “Glad to have you guys back in town.”
“It’s good to be back. Come on in. Sawyer’s pulling out the food.”
I closed the door behind them. Cameron immediately said, “What’s going on? Something happened, didn’t it? How’s Dylan?”
Shit, he’s an observant fucker.
Sawyer gave a sad smile. “Dylan is fine. But we need to talk.”