She blinks at me several times, eyes wide with surprise. As if this is the first time she’s heard this line from me. But it’s not. It’s just the first time she’s heard it while lying in a hospital with a broken ankle and facing surgery. The other time was when she got a flat tire and called me to change it. Or when she got drunk on her birthday and called me at midnight to come out and celebrate with her. Or let’s not forget the time she found mouse droppings under her sink and called me to come over and set traps.
“Tarryn,” I say gently as I squat beside the bed and put my hand on her shoulder. “It is over with us. Totally over, and I think to make the boundaries clearer, I really need you to just stop reaching out to me.”
“No communication whatsoever?” she whispers after a hard swallow.
I don’t want to hurt her, but I still say it anyway. “None. I’ll stay here with you until Laney gets here, but then that’s it, Tarryn.”
“I don’t understand how you couldn’t want to continue our friendship,” she says in a small voice.
“Because you want more than that,” I tell her simply. “Despite you just calling it a friendship, you want more.”
“And you don’t?” she asks with her head tilted. “Not ever?”
How can she keep such hope alive? Maybe because I still did stupid shit like change her tire or set her mousetraps, although I didn’t go celebrate her birthday with her. I was pissed she woke me up on a work night. Still, I’m just as much at fault because I would usually drop what I was doing to help her out when she called. I was a sap that way. While I’d always make it clear to her I was doing these things out of friendship, I can see why she’d have continued hope. It’s because I was still always there for her.
But as I just told her, that all has to stop.
“There’s someone else,” I tell her softly, and I watch her face fall. “And I really want it to work, so my focus and attention is going to be there. One-hundred percent. In fact, it should be there right now, and that’s why I’m leaving as soon as Laney gets here.”
Her eyes mist up and she closes them against the sting and my stare, but she gives me a small nod of acknowledgment.
I hope it’s also of acceptance, but only time will tell.
Now all I have to do is wait for Laney to show up, so I can get back to Cat and we can continue our conversation. It’s time for her to start realizing the potential of what she has within, as well as what we have between us.
Chapter 20
Cat
I pull my Mercedes curbside in front of Jake and Lorelei’s house, just on the other side of their small driveway. Rand will park his Suburban on the adjacent side, with us leaving plenty of room for their cars when they get home. The house is dark except for the porch light and the driveway is currently empty.
I manage to juggle the takeout containers—which are still quite hot since I had them just package our food up to go rather than eat mine there—along with my purse and keys as I get out of my car and hit the lock button. The driveway is lit up by two sconce lights on either side of the double car garage, but the side of the house is fairly dark as I walk toward the stairway that will lead up to the apartment. I know there’s a motion sensor that will turn on a security light there as soon as I reach the end of the driveway and veer off on the small path to the side, so I have no hesitation as I walk toward the house.
Just as I step onto the cement pavers that lead to the wooden staircase, two things hit me at once.
The light isn’t working because it doesn’t come on, and something is rushing at me in the dark.
I don’t have time to scream. Hell, I don’t even have time to comprehend I should be fearful.
Instead, something barrels into me, catching at my shoulder and driving me up underneath the staircase and into the side of the house where I slam hard into the wall. My purse and the food goes flying, as do the keys in my hand.
Before I can even take in a breath, which is difficult since it was just knocked out of me, a large, sweaty hand clamps over my mouth, while a beefy arm wraps around my chest. I immediately smell stale beer, cigarettes, and what might possibly be hot dogs, along with the unmistakable scent of motor oil.
I try to take in air but the hand over my mouth is partially obstructing my nose, making it difficult. I’m seized with panic that I might suffocate and can’t control my body as it starts to flail.
“You better calm the fuck down, bitch,” the man snarls in my ear and his mouth is so close, I can feel the brush of a beard against my skin and the spittle that hits my cheek. To reiterate his point, the arm falls away from my chest, only to come back moments later with a switchblade held expertly in his hands. While I can’t see much, he has me turned toward the street, so the glow from the garage sconces causes the blade to glimmer. I can’t help the small moan of terror that slips free.
Before I can even try to think of something to save myself, he’s spinning me fast, shoving me backward into the wall. My head slams into it with a jarring thud that rattles me, but not enough I don’t feel the press of the blade against the base of my throat. It’s so dark that I can’t make out a damn thing other than the outline of his form.
“Orders were clear,” he mumbles, and it almost sounds slurred. “But no reason I can’t have a little fun.”