It feels bad to be without him.
Briefly, I wonder if that’s how people feel when they meet the person they fall in love with as if they are better when they are with them than without. I’ve never felt that way with another human being, but I do now. I dismiss the crazy thought and decide watching Pitt die in a pool of blood is messing with me. I’m feeling dependent on Adrian when I’m not a dependent person. Maybe he sees that in me. Maybe that’s why he pulled away. We’re not good for each other right now. We’re feeding each other’s weaknesses. Maybe, maybe he should have killed Deleon because if he hurts someone else, I’ll know Adrian could have kept it from happening. I will feel to blame.
I give myself a mental shake and walk toward the desk against the wall, obviously set up for my use. Murder is never the answer. That goes against all I stand for as an emissary of the court and our legal system. And I’m not falling in love with Adrian, but I do owe him an immunity agreement for what I believe will include murder.
Settling into a cushy rolling chair, I open up the MacBook, and I’m eager to call my boss, but I hesitate. Ed is in Walker’s protective custody now. I assume we can communicate, but I decide to be cautious and confirm that’s true. I pick up my new phone and my first instinct is to call Adrian, but I stop myself again. He’s not here for a reason. He needed a break and some rest. He’s probably smarter than me and sleeping. Alone. In another bedroom. My teeth grit and I dial Blake’s number. “Pri,” he answers. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”
“I will,” I say, the weariness in my body a dull ache that I can ignore for only so long. “Believe it or not, I slept a little in the cave. I just need to handle a couple of things. Can I call Ed right now?”
“He’s still traveling,” he says. “He’s presently in the air on his way to New York City. How important is it?”
“Important but not life-threatening. I owe some paperwork to a witness. I don’t want to let him down.”
He hesitates a moment and then he says, “I see. Once he lands, we’ll get him on a secure line. That’s going to be a while. You should sleep.”
“Right. I know. Can I email Ed the document and he’ll be able to get it?”
“Yes. I’ll let him know to check his email ASAP.”
“Great. And can I return my calls and operate as usual?”
“You can. Yes.”
“And if people ask where I am?”
“Working remotely. At home, if you’re forced to give a location.”
“And my parents?”
“Still the same. We have eyes on them. We’ll talk about where all of this goes when you and Adrian are rested.”
“Thanks, Blake.” I hesitate. “Blake—”
“He’s in the theater room sleeping.”
In the theater room. Not even in a bed. Anywhere but with me. “Thanks,” I say, and when I would disconnect, he says, “You both just need rest. You’ll be surprised how that will change things.”
“Right. Yes. Okay.” I disconnect and press my hands to my face. I quickly draw up the agreement, email it to Ed, and scan my emails, which are overflowing. I don’t answer them. I just don’t have the energy.
I’m eager to check my phone messages but hesitate. I find an iPhone laying on the desk and plugged in to the wall. I check my messages. I have ten. One is from Grace. “Where are you? I’m worried. I called you four times. I’m going to have Josh use whatever resources he has to find you if you don’t call me back soon.”
“Fabulous,” I murmur. I love her, but she now has a boyfriend in private security that is going to get us both killed.
I text her a quick note: Thanks for worrying. I’m off-site in meetings. All is well. Call you later.
The next message is from Cindy. “What is going on? Why are you and Ed, and even Ed’s secretary MIA? Should I be scared right now? Please call me.”
I press my fingers to my temple. I don’t even know what to say to her besides, yes, probably, and that’s not a good way to handle this. For now, I text Grace: Can you tell Cindy all is well too, please?
Her reply: You’re sure you’re fine?
Better if I had chocolate right about now, I say, but yes. All is well. Gotta run.
Thankfully she accepts that answer, and I finish going through messages, scribbling notes as I listen to mostly work-related content from that point onward. Then there is the final message, from Logan. “We need to talk. In person. It’s urgent. Call me.”
He’s connected to my case, protecting Waters even, I fear. My gut says I should talk to him, but then again—my brow furrows and there’s a pinch in my chest. Would he set me up and lure me out and into Deleon’s reach? Would a man I was engaged to, who was supposed to be my husband, do such a thing? I can’t ignore that call but I’m not sure what to do about it. I’m not even going to try to figure it out right now. I need sleep. I know I need sleep and my mind will be clear on a lot of things. Maybe even Adrian.