I tilt my head to see his face. “What’s the big deal? All I’ll be doing—”
“The big deal?” He lets me go and takes a few long strides back to the Impala. His hands spear through his hair. “The big deal is that the last time I let you go somewhere on your own, against my better judgment, you came back destroyed.” He leans into the car’s hood, arms bracing his weight, head down.
I step to the front fender. “Jonah.”
He turns his head, a tortured expression on his face. He’s right. I promised him, the night we made love for the first time, I’d never put him through that kind of worry again.
“Okay. I won’t go.”
With a murmured curse, his body weight collapses, and he pushes off the car.
“To her house. I’ll go to her work.” My determination is back, and he must see it in the seconds he studies my face.
“Fine. But only to her work. With plenty of people around. And call me before you walk in and the second you walk out. Understand?”
I grin, overwhelmed by how much I love my protective Jonah. “Okay.”
“I’m serious, baby. If you see—”
My phone chimes with a new text.
Just got your message. I’m fine, just slept in. Come on over. Eve.
I text her back and ask her what time she has to work. We agree to meet there a half an hour before her shift starts.
Jonah’s not satisfied with the plan, but at least he’s not chaining me to his bed for safekeeping, as he threatened. I promised him I’d meet him at the training center after I met with Eve so he could see with his own eyes that I’m okay.
He takes me to work to check in with Guy, looming in the background the entire time like some Adonis bodyguard. We hit my studio to feed Dog and pack some things. He finally left my side so I could meet with Eve, but only with the promise that I’d see him in less than an hour.
I pull into the parking lot of Nori Pizzeria right on time. Walking from my car to the front door, I notice Eve’s 2010 blue Mustang. I do a quick scan for Vince’s H2 and exhale in relief to see it’s not there.
I push through the front doors, and the aroma of garlic and butter make my stomach growl. Wax-covered Chianti bottles sit atop tables dressed in white butcher paper. A few waiters mill about, but no Eve.
“Raven! Hey, haven’t seen you here in a while.” Stephanie’s eyes dart around and behind me before landing on my face. “Where’s the hottie you’re dating?” The enthusiastic hostess flashes a hopeful smile. “Did you guys break up?”
She’s a cute girl, and I’ve never considered myself the jealous type, but my hand tingles with the desire to backhand that ready-and-willing look off her face.
“Mmm, nope. We didn’t break up.” I lay my forearm on top of the hostess stand and lean in. “We’re still very much together, if you know what I mean.” I give her a wink and watch the enthusiasm drain from her face.
Yeah, take that!
“Eve in the back?” I don’t wait for an answer and head to the kitchen with pep in my step.
She mumbles something I can’t quite make out as I push through the kitchen doors.
At the closed office door, I pause to refocus before knocking. I have no idea what kind of mood Eve will be in, and I can only hope she takes what I’m about to tell her well.
“Eve? You there?” I rap my knuckles against the door.
Her soft voice tells me to come in.
The room is dark except for a dim desk lamp. She’s sitting in her chair with her elbows on the desk and both hands on either side of her head. Not good.
I take the seat across from her. “Hey, Eve. How are you doing?”
“Humph.”
“That bad, huh?”
She doesn’t reply only drops her forehead to her desk.
“Look, about last night, I’m so sorry—“
Her head flies up, and she locks me in a narrow glare. “Sorry? What do you have to be sorry about? This whole thing is my fault. I keep telling myself that this guy will be different. This guy won’t hit me or talk shit to me. They all seem so normal in the beginning. Or so I think.” Her head is back in her hands as she rubs at her temples. “God, Rave, I’m so fucked up.”
“Eve, you aren’t . . . effed up.”
Her puffy eyes narrow on mine again, and I decide this is a good time to shut up and listen.
“You know what I did last night after you dropped me off? I lay in bed all night with my phone on my chest, hoping he would call me. I wanted that pieceof-shit to call me and tell me that he was sorry, that he would never scare me again. If he would have shown up on my doorstep, I would’ve taken him back.” She falls back into her chair. “Still think I’m not fucked up?”
No, that sounded pretty screwed up to me. But, I wasn’t going to tell her that.
She’s beating herself up about Vince, feeling as though this is all her fault. If she knew that she was nothing more than a job to him, maybe it would help her to let him go and let herself off the hook.
“Listen, I tried to tell—”
“He held onto you,” she says with a distant sound to her voice.