CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Rule No. 2: Try not to be so intriguing. I can’t help myself. I’m always thinking about why you have so many secrets.
What are your thoughts on take out Chinese food, ice cream, and ugly cry movies? I have a selection I can bring over for some girl time.
Reading Rachel’s message put a smile on my face after a long day doing my best to avoid and ignore both Donovan and Jackson. After my less than polite yelling at a point when I’d lost the ability to keep my cool, both men had tread carefully when requesting actual work tasks from me the remainder of the day. At five sharp, I’d left the office and made the typical sprint to my car. Sprinting again when I arrived home, I’d locked up tight and jumped in the shower. My plans for that night had been to read a book, or do something equally as relaxing, and I’d promised myself that I would ignore my phone.
Thankfully, I broke that promise the first time it buzzed over the surface of my kitchen counter. A night with Rachel would be a good distraction from everything else that was going on - even if I knew she would drown me in questions about Donovan.
But the truth was that I had questions about Donovan myself, and maybe another woman’s perspective would be helpful.
I’ll be waiting for you. I typed back.
Setting the phone down, I straightened up the apartment as much as possible before she arrived. Rachel must have assumed I would say yes because she was knocking on my door within minutes, and she would have taken much longer had she waited to order the food and pick it up.
Unbolting four deadlocks and the chain, I opened the door just enough to let her squeeze through, then locked it tight again once she was inside.
She arched a delicate red eyebrow at me. “Are you expecting a home invasion tonight or a serial killer? What’s up with all the locks?”
“Just being cautious,” I answered, attempting to sound as nonchalant as I could.
Setting the food down, she eyed me warily. Rachel had known me since we were young and she, better than anyone else, could tell when I was upset or I was lying. Deciding not to continue digging into the reason for the numerous locks, she dug into the bag and pulled out several small containers of food. She also unpacked the tub of ice cream and stowed it in the freezer.
“I brought three movies,” she announced while pulling plates from my cabinet. Since she’d made herself at home, I took a seat on one of the stools and watched her dish up the food onto two plates. “Two are sappy, sentimental romances and one is a romantic comedy. I didn’t know whether you would feel like laughing or crying tonight, but judging by the shabby robe and puffy eyes, I’d say you’ve cried enough in the past day. I guess that means we’re stuck with the comedy.”
Her eyes lifted to mine as she settled a plate on the counter in front of me. “So, are you going to spill about what’s going on, or do I need to play twenty questions to get it out of you?”
One of my problems wasn’t something I could talk about. Although Rachel loved me to death and wouldn’t judge me too harshly for signing up with Dark Realities, she would still question my sanity and most likely lecture me about the mistake for the rest of my life. The other problem, however, was something I could talk about, and hopefully Rachel would know exactly what I should do.
“It’s Donovan,” I admitted, not missing the dreamy look in her eye at the mention of my frustratingly annoying new boss.
Her expression brightened at his name, her shoulders relaxing a bit as she dug silverware out of my drawer. Tossing me a fork, she answered, “Ah, yes. Donovan Stone. Why didn’t you tell me he was the man interviewing you that day? And why do you work in such a shitty part of town if you’re working for him? His main office is located in the center of the city.”
“It’s a satellite office,” I said around a bite of fried rice. “Donovan doesn’t like people.”
“Is that why you two get along so well?”
Glancing up at her, I recognized the knowing smirk pulling at her lips. It took effort to swallow the food with her looking at me like that. “We don’t get along.”
A burst of laughter shook her shoulders. “If you say so, Mia, but you let him touch you.” Her brow arched. “You won’t even let me touch you without having a panic attack, and yet you were holding his hand across the table. If you ask me, that means you two are definitely getting along.”
Shaking my head, I averted my eyes and tried to focus on the food in front of me, but Rachel wasn’t letting the subject go. “Since you’re not being forthcoming, I’m going to attempt to piece this puzzle together myself. And if I’m right about what I think happened, I’m going to be killing a certain gorgeous bachelor tomorrow.”
Without even tasting the food I’d shoved in my mouth, I curled my body tighter, but eventually sighed and met her eyes again.
“Did you sleep with him?”
“No.”
Her eyes narrowed, but eventually she pretended to believe me. “You need to be careful with him, Mia. From what I know of Donovan Stone, every woman wants him, but everybody who is anybody knows to avoid him as much as possible. There’s something broken about that man and don’t you think it’s weird he refuses to talk? I didn’t believe the rumors at first, but after meeting him last night, I was floored. From what I’ve heard, he hasn’t spoken in three years! I know he’s some kind of software genius, and maybe that level of intelligence is what messes with his head, but you don’t need that kind of complication in your life. So, did you sleep with him, or not?”
“No,” I answered, putting a little strength to my voice so she would believe me. “We kissed, but then things got weird and he walked away from me. I thought he would fire me when I walked into the office this morning, but the only thing that happened was his best friend warned me away from him, and then Donovan gave me a set of rules we have to abide by while working together.”
Her head tilted at the mention of rules, her lips moving as she finished chewing. “Rules? What kind of rules?”
Dropping the fork on the plate, I sat back in my chair and folded my arms across my chest. “The kind that make me at fault for everything happening between us.”
Her mouth rounded with surprise. “You? I’m sorry, Mia, but for as long as I’ve known you, not once have you initiated anything with a man. How are you responsible?”
I shrugged, suddenly feeling exhausted by the entire thing. “I don’t know. Because I’m so intriguing that he can’t stop thinking about me. Because I make him want to feel again, whatever the hell that means. And because he’s not in a place where he can offer me anything emotional...just physical.”
“Sounds like a bunch of bullshit to me. Are you sure he’s not insane? It would explain a lot. Losing your girlfriend the way he did would drive any person to the edge of sanity.”
My head snapped up. “You know about his girlfriend?”
“Um, yes,” she answered, dragging out the last word. “It was the talk of the town when it happened. I’m surprised you don’t know.”
Staring at her, I waited impatiently for her to continue. Finally getting the silent hint, she blew out a breath and lowered her voice as if there were somebody else around who would hear us gossiping.
“I only know what I heard from business associates and read in the news, but apparently Donovan’s girlfriend was shot and killed right in front of him. Poor thing lay on a sidewalk bleeding out while Donovan held her and screamed for help. Rumor is he hasn’t talked since that night, but nobody knows why. Who knows? Maybe he snapped and he’s crazier than we all realize.”
My heart hurt, my chest constricting as I tried to imagine the horror Donovan had faced. Jackson said his past relationship ended horribly, but I’d assumed it was a bad break up or something similar. I never would have guessed he’d watched his girlfriend die right in front of him. What little food I had in my stomach churned until it was a lump in my belly, tears wetting my eyes that I didn’t want Rachel to see. Excusing myself to the bathroom, I hid for a few minutes to pull myself back together. It wasn’t clear why I’d had such a visceral reaction to hearing the story, but now that I knew what he went through, I could excuse how distant and cold he could be. It also explained why Jackson had warned me away.
With the amount of pain Donovan carried, it made my past problems with my father pale in comparison.
“Hey, Mia,” Rachel’s voice chirped from the kitchen, the sound carrying easily because my apartment was so small. “Your boyfriend is texting,” she announced in a sing-song voice. “I think he’s changed his mind about those rules! Can I text him back for you?”
My boyfriend? Donovan texted me? “No!”
Bursting from the bathroom, I bounded through the apartment, snatched the phone from Mia’s hand, read the message and froze.
“Mia, what’s wrong? All the color just drained from your face. Mia?”
The text wasn’t from Donovan. Or was it?
Have you discovered my secret, Mia? Is that why you said what you said today? I haven’t stopped thinking about you since seeing you last.
It was the same thread from the night before, the same lack of identification. Just the message without any way of knowing who sent it.
“Mia? You’re scaring me. Why aren’t you answering me?”
I’d spoken to my stalker. I knew the man who was intentionally scaring me, the man who had stood in my bedroom watching me while I slept. What had I said today that mentioned anything about secrets?
Blinking tears from my eyes, I walked to my couch and sunk down on the cushion, carefully setting the phone on the table in front of me so that the message glared up at me from the glowing screen.
At some point Rachel had taken the seat beside me, her hand reaching out to snatch the phone from my grasp. “What the hell are these messages, Mia?”
Turning, I watched her scroll through the messages, her face deepening with anger as she read the conversation from the night before. “Who is this? Is this Donovan?”
Weakly, I shook my head and realized that if I wanted Rachel to walk away from this, I had no choice but to tell her the truth.
“The messages are from my stalker.”
“Your what?”
Blinking, I leaned back against the couch, resigned to the fact that I was going to spill all the horrid and embarrassing details to my best friend. I knew Rachel well enough to know she wouldn’t let this go until she understood every bad decision, every frightening or pitiable moment that led me to this point.
“My stalker,” I explained after clearing my throat. “The man who’s been messaging me and following me for a few days now.”
“A few days! What the hell, Mia? Why haven’t you told me about this? When did it start? Does this have something to do with Donovan?”
The last question tripped me up, because in truth, I had no idea if it had anything to do with Donovan. Bits and pieces I’d learned since working for him would lead me to believe that yes, he had some hand in this, but the likelihood that a man who’d watched his girlfriend die as a result of violent crime becoming a criminal himself...it didn’t seem like a possibility.
“I’m not sure.”
Setting the phone down, she turned to me, her hands folded together like a kindergarten teacher would do when scolding an out of control child. “This is what we’re going to do. We’re going to start from the beginning. You’re going to give me every detail about how this started, when it started, why it started and how you plan on making it stop. Then we’re going to carry out whatever plan it is you have to stop it because, surely, you can’t enjoy being harassed by a stranger who claims to be watching you at all times.”
Clapping her hands once as if to emphasize the list she’d finished reciting, she said, “Let’s begin.”
Sighing, I clenched my eyes shut and opened them again to find her staring at me with an expectant gaze. Rachel wasn’t going to let this go, so I spilled every detail including how I’d signed up with the website she already warned me about only for it to disappear once I received payment and the list of rules. I told her about finding the rose in my bed one morning, and the details of the software Donovan recently sold to his clients. I told her about my sprints to the car, and the fact that whoever was texting me had access to my life. I told her I’d considered going to the police, but hadn’t found the time yet, or the proof. By the time I was finished confessing all my sins, her face was a lovely shade of crimson, the anger tightening her shoulders and causing her jaw to tic from how hard she clenched her teeth.
At the moment, I wasn’t sure if I was more scared of the stalker or my best friend, because it was obvious by the expression on her face that she was going to slaughter me for what I did.
“Is that all?” she asked several seconds after my voice went silent and I let out a breath, relieved to finally tell someone about my problem.
“Yes,” I breathed out, the weight of my foolish decisions now weighing on me even more after confessing them.
“Oh, Mia.” Rachel’s expression softened in sympathy, her shoulders losing some of their tension as she curled up beside me. Careful not to touch me, she laid her head against the backrest and stared over at me instead. It was same look from when we were teens, the same look she’d given me when I finally explained everything my father was doing to me at home. No, he’d never crossed the line into criminal abuse, but the emotional abuse had been enough to wreck me when I was a vulnerable girl learning what it meant to be a woman.
Judging by the current state of my life, I couldn’t deny that my father had been right. I was a failure, and it appeared certain that I truly would amount to nothing in this lifetime.
After several minutes of comforting silence, Mia blinked her pretty eyes and spoke softly about what would happen next. “This is what we’re going to do: First thing in the morning, you’re going to call into work and so am I. Then we’re going to take all the emails, messages, bank deposit information and whatever else you can find to point the police in the direction of Dark Realities. We’ll even take your computer and hope they have some expert there who can use your internet history to track down the site. I’m sure once the police get involved and tell whoever runs that stupid game that they need to stop, all of this will be over. Then you can move on with your life and sleep better at night. How does that sound?”
“It sounds good,” I admitted, the tension of the last few days rolling off me with the hope that, soon, this would all be over.
“Excellent,” she nodded once, sitting up and rubbing her palms over her thighs. “Then I’ll head home and grab some clothes and overnight stuff. I’ll sleep on your couch tonight just so you’re not alone and you will NOT answer that last message. You also need to give the police a list of names of every person you spoke to yesterday so they have a good idea of where to look. This guy claims to know you, so it won’t be a long list of people to interview.”
Eyes widening at the thought, I shot up and shook my head. “No. I can’t do that. If they interview Donovan and he has nothing to do with it, he’ll fire me for sure. I can’t risk my job, Rachel. Being unemployed is what put me in this position in the first place. Plus, I don’t even know what the message claims is even true. He hasn’t given me any information that proves I spoke to him.”
“Mia-“
“No! I’m putting my foot down on this. There’s no way in hell I’m risking my job. If I lose another one, I’ll have to go home and face my parents, and I’m not doing it. I’d rather sleep on the streets than admit to my dad that he was right about me.”
Her expression fell, but anger rolled behind her eyes. Rachel had always hated my father, always wanted me to run away and come live with her. But doing so would have only given him another reason to hate me, and the punishment would have been worse when he found me and dragged me home. “I can’t do that, Rachel.”
Practically begging, I held her gaze in mine, hoping like hell she’d see the predicament for what it was and not make it worse.
Her voice soft, she asked, “And what if this is Donovan messing with you? What if he only hired you so he could keep a close eye on the woman trapped in his game? What if he plans on firing you anyway once the two months are up?” She breathed out, her hand reaching like she wanted to pat my shoulder, but she snatched it away at the last second. “You have to admit it looks really suspicious on his end. If anybody could pull off some maniacal computer game, it would be him.”
My heart fell into my stomach, the pathetic beats vibrating softly beneath my skin as tears welled in my eyes.
Maybe it had been stupid of me to believe a man like Donovan had a genuine interest in me. Maybe all the torment he claimed was meant to build me up was actually meant to tear me down so far that I would eventually give in to the game to entertain his audience.
With that depressing chain of thought rolling through my head, I sighed again before standing up from the couch. “Maybe we should grab my computer and sleep at your place tonight. At least there, I’ll know we’re safe.”
Rachel nodded her head. “And tomorrow morning, I’ll be on the phone with your landlord telling him to fix those front door locks on the building or else.”