It’s been a week since Cassie stopped by my place to pick up Bruce. I can’t believe she just took him without saying goodbye.
My chest tightens at the memory of Cass beneath the tree. Our tree. My little angel.
“Ren, did you hear what I said?” Titus’ tone of annoyance brings me back to my surroundings. I’m back at the Dallas office after a week in California, covering for the client Aiden was supposed to be in charge of.
“No, man. What did you say?”
“The prints, from Cassie’s apartment.” He lets out an exasperated breath.
Well, he certainly has my undivided attention now.
“What about them?”
“They don’t match the attackers involved in William and Bella’s case. They could have hired someone who still hasn’t been named but as soon as the charges were doled out, they sang like canaries, naming anyone who would help reduce their sentence.”
“Yeah, I agree. If they’d hired someone to trash Cassie’s place, they would have been named and charged by now.” My brows furrow, wondering who in the world would want to hurt Cassie. “Do any of the named accomplices have prints in the system?”
“Yes, they all have priors and have all been ruled out.”
Fuck. “This is bad.” I run a hand through my hair, tugging at the ends. A nervous habit that’s seemed to make a reappearance as of late. “This means that whoever did that to her place is still out there.”
Even though Cass and I aren’t together anymore, that doesn’t mean that I’ve stopped caring. Quite the contrary, now that I don’t have her under my care, I’m even more worried about her day to day.
“And I’m guessing the prints you found don’t match anything in the system either.” It’s not a question, more of a statement. Titus would have opened with the suspect’s information, had he had it in the first place.
“Right-o.” Titus nods, slapping the report onto my desk. “What do you want to do about it?”
“Doctors need to have their prints run, don’t they? Find out if that’s the case, and if so, see if they match a Woodrow Wilson.”
Titus snickers. “Like the dead president?”
“Yes, only this one is very much alive and very much a creep.”
Something in my gut tells me to pay the good doctor a visit. I’d bet my right nut Cass wouldn’t appreciate the impromptu visit to her employer’s office but I need to make sure she’s safe.
If I happen to run into her then so be it.
I dial Becca’s extension, “I need you to make me a rushed appointment with Dr. Woodrow Wilson. He has an office in Turtle Creek. See if he can get me in for a consult.”
I’ve never considered plastic surgery before, but for Cass, I can pretend.
“Ren, what a pleasure seeing you again.” Barbie is as pink as the scrunchie in her hair. “When your secretary called to make the appointment earlier, I knew I had to fit you right in. Although I must say that I’m surprised. There isn’t a thing on you I’d ever change.”
Batting her lashes, she purses her lips. For such a saccharine-sweet woman, she sure is forward.
“Nobody’s perfect, Barbie.” I wink, causing her to break into a fit of giggles.
I do my best to not look confused. There wasn’t anything particularly funny about what I said, at least I don’t think.
Wanting to get off the topic of my looks and on to anything else, I search the room for anything that could possibly come to my aid.
My eyes land on a framed picture of the petite Barbie with a massive Great Dane.
“What a gorgeous dog.” I nod toward the frame. “Must be a handful to take care of though.”
“Oh, this is Larkie Lark. And yes, he’s such a ham. Loves to sit on my lap. To him, he’s a teacup Yorkie.” She rolls her eyes but smiles wide. Mission accomplished. “Maybe you could come over sometime. Seems like you’d be real good with dogs. Cassie tells me Bruce absolutely adores you.”
My eyes narrow. I’m not sure if she’s coming on to me, or if she’s genuinely wanting to be friends.
“Ren.” Dr. Wilson greets me from the doorway. “I thought I saw your name on my schedule today.”
“Doctor. Yes, thank you for fitting me in on such short notice.”
“That’s all Barbie.” He motions over to Barbie, who’s been watching our conversation as if it were the most intense tennis match. “I didn’t know until the appointment was in the books.”
“Right. Well, thank you anyway.” I begin walking forward. “Shall we get this over with?”
“Yes, of course.” Dr. McCreeperson leads the way into an exam room. Once inside, he motions to the bed in the center. “Please take a seat.”
Slapping on some gloves, he approaches me, raising both hands to my face, “May I?”
I nod, allowing him to inspect my face.
“So, rhinoplasty. The intake note said you wanted a consult on fixing a previously broken nose.”
“Yes. Broke it playing soccer in college. I’ve had this bump ever since.” I point toward the slight divot on the bridge of my nose. I honestly am okay with it—even think it adds character—but he doesn’t have to know that.
“Yes, I see. Lucky for you, that’s an easy fix.” He pushes his lips to the side as if in contemplation. “However, any surgery where anesthesia is involved runs risks. Risks that include your inability to wake up from said surgery.”
Did this asshole just threaten me? I think he did.
Cocking a brow, I take a dig, even though I have no right to. “That would make Cassie extremely unhappy, we wouldn’t want that now, would we?”
I’m taking a chance on the fact that he has no idea Cassie and I aren’t on talking terms. From the soured look on his face, I’d say it was a safe bet.
“So you and Cassie are still a thing…” He’s not really asking, so I’m not going to dignify it with an answer. Besides, this gets me out of having to full-on lie. Something I hate doing.
“Why does that matter, Dr. Wilson? Do you have feelings for Cassie?” McCreepster’s body stiffens and I wonder if it’s for fear of confrontation or fear of getting caught.
The whole reason for this appointment was to dig deep and find out if this man possesses the gall to terrorize Cassie or if he’s just another man, trapped in her web, forever orbiting the star that is Cassie.
His comment about my relationship with Cass gives me the perfect excuse, so I press further, seeing as he’s not readily volunteering any information.
“Doc? Do you have romantic feelings toward Cass?”
“Why do I have the feeling that it was never your intention to seek my professional opinion about your nose?”
“That’d be because you’re a smart man, Dr. Wilson. Despite your repeated failure to keep your hands to yourself, you still possess a brain.” I cock a brow while jumping off the exam table. “So, Doc. Out with it. Do you have feelings for Cassie? Feelings that extend beyond that of an employer-employee.”
My six-foot-two meets his five-nine. The man is tough, I’ll give him that. He’s yet to back down and is standing his ground. Maybe he does have the balls to trash Cassie’s place.
“I’d be careful if I were you, Ren. Would hate for your presumptions to get you into trouble.” The man threatens me once more before taking two steps back and motioning toward the door. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a list of patients that do actually want my professional services.”
“I don’t take kindly to threats, Woodie. Next time you issue one, be prepared to face the consequences.” I close the door behind me quietly, not wanting to cause a scene.
There’s no need to alarm Barbie or the other patients.
Finally back in my car, I dial Titus’ number. “Brother, just left the doctor’s office. Please tell me there was a match with the prints.”
“Sorry, man. Still haven’t received a copy of the report, but you’ll be the first I call when I do.”
I slam my hand down onto the steering wheel. Fuck. I need to find out who wrecked her place before they try something worse.
Even though the doctor didn’t admit to anything, he gave me all sorts of crazy vibes. There’s no doubt in my mind that he has what it takes to be a stalker. Cassie’s stalker.
“Okay. I appreciate it. For now, I’d like to have someone tailing the doctor. Put any of the charges on my personal card. I’ll be handling the invoices for Cassie’s case.” I scrub my face with my hand, knowing she isn’t going to like having someone tailing her either. “Also get a detail on Cassie again. And have them fly under the radar. I don’t want her alerted to their presence.”
“You sure that’s such a good idea? Last time you tried taking charge of her free will, she ended up pissed and locked in a car.”
Visions of a fiery Cassie has my dick twitching in my pants. Closing my eyes, I let out the breath I’d been holding, “Just do it. When it comes to her safety, she doesn’t get a say.”
“Ten-four, brother.” Titus’ chuckle fades as he pulls the phone away and cuts the line.
He can laugh all he wants, but the day he falls in love, he’ll be the one acting a fool and putting aside all logic and reason.
Love. That’s what this is. There’s no doubt in my mind that I love that woman with every bit of my fucked-up heart.
From the moment at the bar in Uptown, I was drawn to her light. Something in me recognized her. My little angel.
The fire in her kept me coming back for more, but it wasn’t until that moment at the tree where it all came together.
I’d just been released from Lew Sterret, after posting bail for charges of public intoxication. So of course the logical thing to do would be to stop by the liquor store to get more booze.
Somehow I found my way to the tree. The tree that would lead me to Cassie, my little angel.
I shake my head. God, she must have thought I was a fucking mess. And truth be told, I was. The night before I’d found out our mom had taken her life.
After a long battle with depression, she decided she’d set herself free.
My eyes squeeze shut, a lone tear falling down my cheek. After all this time, I still don’t understand. I’m a mixture of emotions, all previously suppressed, locked up, and hidden away. But somehow Cassie has managed to unearth each and every one, bringing them out to play and wreak havoc with my emotional state.
Rage flows, burning me from the inside. How could a mother leave her children behind. Didn’t she love us enough? Weren’t we enough for her?
As soon as the words run rampant in my mind, I immediately feel a pang of guilt. Fuck, Ren. She was sick.
There wasn’t a memory of hers that isn’t tainted with the bitter reality of her sickness. Her laughter and hugs, whenever she doled them out, were never whole.
It was always as if something were missing. Like she was putting on a show, a facade, the emotion never truly reaching her.
Superficial. All the joy we felt, it was all superficial.
Cassie was right. Wherever she was now, at least she was free of the illness. The only solace to my misery, that she’d finally be free of her sorrow.
The irony isn’t lost on me that she’d lost her own but somehow managed to leave behind a shiny new supply for Aiden and me.
And man, was that sorrow deep. It cut me open and wrung me dry. The only reprieve came from that one little angel. She’s the one who helped me find my peace.
How twisted is it that the little girl who helped me heal would be the same woman who tore me down over a decade later. Fate is one twisted motherfucker.
There’s probably some lesson in there somewhere but my soul is tired and all I want to do is what I know. What I’ve always done to take away the sting of reality.
Occupy every waking hour with work, leaving no room for thought or emotion as it pertains to my shattered heart.
Picking up my phone once more, I dial the office.
“Becca, get the jet ready. I’m heading back to California.”
