Lead Me Home (Fight for Me #3)(22)

No. Not when it was going to destroy me in the end.





10





Ollie





“Seth, it’s Ollie.”

He blew out a breath on the other end of the line. “Hey, man. Was wondering if you were going to call.”

“You think I wouldn’t?”

I paced the concrete floors of my loft in front of the big bay of windows that overlooked my balcony and the city beyond. I had a view of the river twisting through the buildings as it cut through Gingham Lakes.

My loft took up the entire third floor of the building, Olive’s existing in the bottom two floors besides for the small bit at the back that was my garage.

The main room was open, decorated in dark woods and even darker leathers.

The entire vibe echoed peace.

Too bad I felt none of it.

Seth chuckled a bit, but there wasn’t a whole lot of amusement to it. “Nah. I knew you would. Especially with the way you looked like you were going to lose your mind last night.”

That was the problem.

That was exactly what was happening.

I was losing my mind.

“You want to tell me about this line of bullshit you were feeding Nikki about it being a bunch of kids breaking into her place? Because it sure didn’t look that way to me.”

He sighed, and I could almost see him rocking forward in his office chair at the station to lean his elbows on his desk. “That’s exactly what it could be, Ollie. We see cases like this all the time. But there was something about it that felt purposed. Like someone was trying to send a message.”

My hand curled tighter around my phone. “And what kind of message would that be?”

The sound he made was strained. Like he didn’t know what to offer me. “A warning.”

Anger tightened around me. Chains. Constricting tighter.

“That doesn’t mean that’s what it was. It’s only a hunch.” Silence spun for a second before he continued, “Has she made any enemies lately? Maybe broken up with somebody?”

My teeth gritted.

Because I should know. Should know everything about her. Hold her secrets. Her dreams. Her joy.

I was the one who’d crushed every single one of them.

And I sure as shit shouldn’t be pissed by the idea of there even being someone for her to break up with.

“Not sure. But she’s been interning with a psychologist, helping her run some meetings. She was texting someone last night from there on the ride back to my place. Gut tells me it has something to do with that.”

He exhaled heavily. “Anything happening there is going to be confidential. You can’t get in the middle of that.”

“If it means Nikki’s safety, I can.”

“Ollie,” he warned. “I had you call me because I want you to know what’s going on. To watch for anything out of the ordinary. Not for you to take off hunting like . . .”

He trailed off.

Leaving the rest suspended in the distance between us.

My mind filled in the blank.

Like Sydney.

I’d hounded that station for fourteen years.

They’d labeled it a cold case.

And I’d labeled that bullshit.

If they wouldn’t hunt? I sure as hell would.

“I won’t let anything happen to her, Seth.”

It was my own warning.

A promise.

Because whoever this fucker was?

He was gonna learn I had a message to send, too.



I heard the bedroom door snap open. Hell, I probably didn’t even hear it. More likely, I felt it, the presence stepping out from the far end of the apartment.

That aura she wore was like an additional layer of her skin.

Glittering diamonds and glimmering golds reflecting off the sun.

Swore, I could feel that girl from a mile away.

Bare feet padded on the concrete floor.

That feeling grew stronger and stronger with each step. It’d covered me whole by the time she made her way out into the main living area.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

That sweet voice hit me from ten feet behind. With the way chills went skating across my skin, she might as well have been whispering it in my ear.

I stirred the ground beef I was browning in the skillet, giving her a quick glance over my shoulder, trying not to get wrapped up in her.

Fresh out of the shower after I’d picked her up from work an hour ago and took her back to her apartment to pick up her car.

Now the girl stood there.

Hair wet.

Skin damp.

Expression confused.

Spirit fierce.

That was what always got me more than anything. The way she glowed this unassuming, timid belief, all wrapped up in a wide, bright smile.

“What’s it look like I’m doing?”

“Cooking.” It was pure, horrified concern.

I chuckled a little. “Seems like we’re on the same page then.”

Curiosity drawing her forward, she rounded the tall table surrounded by stools that acted as a partition of the kitchen and living area.

Or maybe it was just me.

Because I could feel the tether.

Pulling, pulling, pulling.

“The question is, why are you cooking? Aren’t you supposed to be downstairs working?”