Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 108362 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108362 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
Jace: Is it okay if I take Zara back to my parents’ house for a couple hours after school? Dad’s cooking dinner.
Me: Sure. What time should I collect her?
Jace: Around 7pm?
Me: All right. See you then.
I finished up with work, then threw together a few random bits for my own dinner. Whenever Zara wasn’t home, I typically ate whatever was in the fridge. In this case, some leftover chicken salad, two slices of garlic bread, and the end of a tub of hummus.
It was a pleasant evening when I donned my coat and headed over to my in-laws’ house to collect Zara. The neighbourhood I’d grown up in from the age of twelve onwards was well to do, with lots of large, expensive homes and landscaped front lawns.
Previous to moving next door to Jace’s family, I’d lived in several different countries. My parents had worked as lawyers for various international wealthy families, even a few royals and political dynasties. I’d been born in Hong Kong, and we’d stayed there until I was two before settling in Geneva for the next four years. After that, we’d lived briefly in Copenhagen, followed by short stints in Capetown, Oslo, and London. Then my parents had finally decided they would settle back in Dublin where they’d both grown up.
I’d like to say I was thankful at long last to not have to start over again in new schools, learn a new language, and make new friends, but Honor and Ivan Guerin had not been the reason Dublin had become home to me. It was Jace’s family that had made me feel like I finally had a place to belong. The only thing I could thank my parents for was buying a house next door to the most wonderful neighbours I could have asked for. It still warmed my heart to know that Zara had grandparents like Jay and Matilda, despite everything that went wrong between her dad and me.
I noticed Isla sitting in the same dark sedan from this morning. She and Dixon must’ve been sharing street watch duties, though if the catfish knew where Jace’s parents lived, then we really did have problems. Like his addiction struggles and Roan’s identity, it was yet another piece of private information that pointed towards the culprit being known to Jace.
He opened the front door a few moments after I knocked. I noticed he seemed tired, but he still smiled when he saw me.
“Come in. Zara’s just finishing her dessert.”
I stepped past him and inside the house, the faint hint of that new cologne his parents had bought him tickling my nose. Why did he not only have to look amazing but also smell incredible, too? How was that fair?
“Has there been any more information on the catfish?” I asked and immediately saw his tension return. I felt bad for bringing it up, but I needed to be kept in the loop for my daughter’s safety.
“Yes,” he replied before pushing open the door to the living room. “We can talk about it in here. I don’t want Zara overhearing.”
Jace motioned for me to take a seat on the sectional couch, so I lowered onto it and folded my hands in my lap. He sat next to me, leaving a few inches of space as he pulled out his phone.
“Alison came through with the screen shots of her conversations with the catfish,” he said as he opened up a downloaded file.
“Did you speak to her in person?” I asked, strangely uncomfortable at the thought.
“No. My aunt was the one who dealt with her mainly,” he answered, and I understood why. Lille had a very calming, gentle sort of way with people. If Alison were upset or freaking out, Lille would be the best person to talk her down and ease her stress. Jace tugged at his hair and blew out a breath. “She was asking to see me in person, but I just … I couldn’t do it.”
Some protective instinct rose within me as I found myself placing my hand on his knee. “Don’t feel guilty. It was a good call. You have your own mental health to consider.” Jace’s eyes went to my hand on his knee before rising to meet my gaze. “Thank you for saying that. I feel so fucking bad about all of this, but we’ve dealt with intense fans before and have learned through past mistakes that keeping a healthy distance is always better. It’s not fair to give them false hope.”
His statement sparked my concern. I recalled a few incidents when we’d been together of fans trying to sneak into after parties or finding out which hotel the band was staying in and trying to locate their rooms. One time, Elias had checked into his room and discovered three teenage girls waiting for him. Luckily, Dixon had been with him at the time, and together with hotel security, they’d been able to get the fans out of the room and escort them from the hotel.