I wanted her in my house, in my bed, in my life, and there was no way in hell I would let anything happen to jeopardize that.
I slowed at a stoplight. “Do you have the address of the sale?” Even though the panic had subsided, a sense of foreboding washed over me. Haines’s son—a convicted fucking rapist—was still out there, and according to Haines, still obsessed. And Yve was alone. I would not leave her vulnerable.
“I don’t recall the address, but JP will have it. I’ll get it from her and text it to you. I’ll meet you there.”
I almost told him it wasn’t necessary, but maybe Yve would finally understand how seriously I took her safety if we both showed up. It wasn’t a game, and she knew that. She knew better than anyone what her ex was capable of, and I was going to make sure she didn’t take another risk like this again.
“Okay. I’ll see you there.”
I pulled into a parking lot to wait, but instead of texting me back, Jerome called a few minutes later.
“According to JP, she did go to the sale,” he reported. “But she also mentioned something I hadn’t realized. The flyer came in via a street kid today, not by mail or someone they knew.”
“That doesn’t sound normal.”
“JP thought it seemed a little strange, especially given that it was all high-end stuff, and the sale wasn’t listed on any of the normal places Yve looked.”
“Give me the address.”
I punched it into the GPS as he relayed it. Urgency and rage twined together in my gut.
An estate sale of high-end stuff, unusual notification, and still . . . something that Yve wouldn’t be able to resist.
“GPS says twenty minutes. I’ll be there in ten. I’ll call you if it’s nothing. But this doesn’t feel right.”
“Agreed. Please try to keep from killing yourself on the way there,” Jerome replied.
“Done.” I hung up and roared out of the parking lot.
Hennessy was my next call. Maybe it was overkill, but this one felt bad all the way to my gut.
“It’s Yve’s ex-husband. He’s obsessed with her,” I said as soon as he answered.
“Hello to you too, Titan. What the hell are you talking about?”
“Yve’s ex-husband. He has to be the one who caused the apartment explosion.”
“We’ve still got no leads, so I’ll take what I can get.”
I relayed the information about the estate sale and my gut reaction.
“Could be harmless,” Hennessy remarked.
“I’m not taking any chances.”
“Shit, man. You driving out there?”
“Right now.”
“Call if you need backup.”
“I’ll call you if we need body bags.” I hung up before he could reply.
JENNIFER CAME CLOSER TO ME with the knife, but my fight-or-flight response was thwarted by the damn duct tape. I needed to keep her talking. I really, really needed to avoid the pain that would come with that knife. You know, or getting dead. I had too much left to live for.
Taped to a chair, facing down a crazy bitch with a knife, a lot of things became perfectly clear. I was in love with Lucas Titan.
I’d sworn I’d never fall again—especially for a rich guy—but with Lucas, it hadn’t been a choice. He’d never made me feel like a possession to be owned. To the contrary, he’d made me feel like I was precious and worth protecting. I couldn’t hold who he was or what he had against him, because it was all an integral part of what made him Lucas Fucking Titan. And I loved him.
I didn’t know if he loved me too, but I wasn’t going to die before I found out.
“Why did you pretend to want to buy the store?” I asked, both to get a conversation going and because that part still didn’t make any sense.
Jennifer smiled in that crazy I’ve got a whole mess of screws loose way of hers. “Because Jay seemed so impressed that you were running it. It’s just a silly little store. How hard could it really be? And it wasn’t pretend. I am going to buy it and run it. Then he can be impressed with me running it.”
I wondered if the same argument applied to taking the perfume. Because if Jay liked it on me, then he’d like it on her. She was too blond and skinny to come anywhere close to looking like me, but her style was remarkably similar, right down to the dress and pumps and hairstyle. Had she been trying to copy me in hopes that she’d somehow be more secure with Jay? Why would she even want to?
“Does he hit you?” The question was out before I could weigh whether asking it was a good idea.
She raised her chin. “Jay would never hurt me. I would never give him a reason to.” Glaring, she added, “Unlike some people.”
Oh, this again. The idea that I’d been abused because it was somehow my fault. Awesome. Glad we were still on that. Fuck her.
“Does he know you blew up my apartment? Does he know what you’re doing right now?”