Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 83994 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83994 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
My phone rings before I can join everyone. I hesitate, prepared to send it to voicemail, but I stop and stare.
Casey’s name appears on the screen.
She never calls my cell. Not unless it’s an emergency. I’ve made that extremely clear over the years. This number is off limits for normal workday problems.
I answer, my heart skipping in my chest. “Hello, Ms. Brennan. You didn’t come to work today.”
“Declan, it’s Natalie. I went to her apartment… I went there and she’s…” The panic in her voice immediately rings a thousand alarm bells in my head. I’ve never heard her like this before.
“Slow down. Tell me what happened.”
“I’m at Natalie’s apartment… Declan, oh my god, there’s blood… there’s blood everywhere…”
She’s sobbing inconsolably.
I try to get her to talk, but she’s not making any sense.
“I’m coming,” I snarl into the phone, already running for my car. “I’m coming, Casey, just wait for me.”
Chapter 6
Casey
Hours earlier…
I can’t bring myself to show up at the office.
Which means I’m pretty sure he’s going to fire me for sure. Declan’s fair when it comes to sick days and vacations, but there’s no way he’ll tolerate me just not showing up.
Although we did have sex last night.
That could maybe sort of change things a little bit?
I try calling Natalie the second I leave Declan’s apartment. I need to tell someone what happened and she’s the only person I trust. But she doesn’t pick up. I leave a voicemail, send a text, even shoot her an email in case she forgot her phone and is at her desk already, but I don’t get any replies.
The ring feels like a thousand tons of weight in my pocket.
I sneak into the house. Aunt Sheila is out, probably running errands. She doesn’t work, and from what I’ve gathered over the years, she inherited a sizable bit of money from some relatives, including my parents, which she uses for our expenses.
I don’t know the details, and I don’t feel like it’s my place to ask, since I’ve basically never been denied anything in my life.
I should call him. The second I flop down on my own bed, I know I’m being stupid and childish. I’ll only make it worse if I try to avoid it.
There’s probably some super reasonable explanation.
I bet I’ll feel embarrassed and stupid the second I hear it.
But I still don’t try him. Instead, I keep reaching out to Natalie, only to get silence in return. This isn’t crazy unusual for her, since she’s always forgetting her phone places and she can be pretty oblivious to everything when she’s in the zone at work, but it’s frustrating.
I need to vent.
Because, seriously, what the hell happened last night?
I had sex with Declan. That definitely happened. I have the memories and at least one little bruise to prove it.
Then there’s the ring.
I still don’t understand what that means. Maybe it’s some kind of game Declan’s playing, like he’s trying to test me? But I don’t even know what that could accomplish.
I spend like two hours Googling and searching, trying to dig up anything I can on Declan Whelan. But there’s nothing I haven’t seen before.
Is this something he does? Brings his assistants home, fucks them, and uses some complicated proposal scheme to scare them away?
But here’s the thing. I’ve known Declan for two years now. I’ve worked extremely closely with him all this time. And not once has he ever been anything but ruthlessly pragmatic and direct.
If he’s unhappy, he says so.
No skirting around the subject. No coming at things sideways.
If he wants something, he takes it.
He comes off as difficult and a pain in the ass sometimes, but I find his unflinching honesty refreshing.
Even though he’s a bastard, at least I know where I stand.
This ring makes no sense.
He wouldn’t drop something like this in my lap without at least explaining what it means first.
Which means I have to be missing something.
I’m overreacting. I’m reading too deeply into it. The ring stuff was a part of a list of normal, work-related tasks. So the ring has to be a work thing too.
He probably just didn’t have time to give me details and there’s a perfectly innocent reason for all this.
And not some insane marriage proposal.
I keep trying Natalie, but as the afternoon turns to early evening, I start to actually worry. It’s one thing for her to get absorbed by work, but she should be home by now. She’s never been out of contact for this long. Not even that one time she had to get emergency surgery to remove her appendix. She was texting me from the operating room.
Around six that night, I find Aunt Sheila sitting in the living room watching TV. “You haven’t heard anything from Natalie, have you?”
She seems surprised. “No, I don’t think so. Why? Have you gone an hour without talking?”