“And your mom thinks by not going through with the wedding . . . you are,” I assumed.
“More or less. She’s still terrified. We fight over it—over you—nearly every time we see each other. She thinks I should go to Chicago and offer myself to them to prevent whatever fallout she’s sure is coming.”
“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen.” I blew out a heavy breath and reached for her left hand, running my thumb over the ring a few times before looking at her. “Okay, Rebel. No big wedding.”
The corners of her mouth twitched into a sad smile. “I’m sorry.”
“All I want is you.” I forced out a laugh. “I wanted to hold off for at least a week so I could get some things together and surprise you—cake, flowers, a dress . . .” A fuller laugh left me when she made a face. “Now that I won’t be doing that, just tell me when and where so I can mob-marry you.”
“Even if it’s tonight?”
“Even if it’s right now.” I gripped her chin in my fingers and dipped my head toward hers, but stopped just before our lips met. “Promise me one thing first.”
“Anything,” she whispered, her breath washing over me.
“No more secrets between us. No more hiding anything.”
Her eyes flashed with something dark as they searched mine. “What if it keeps you safe?”
“Keeping me safe kept us apart for too long. No more.” I pressed my mouth firmly to hers when she echoed my last words.
“I hate champagne and white cakes,” she said against my lips. “And getting flowers.”
I smiled and kissed her harder. “Noted.”
“And dresses. I hate them all, but especially if they’re white.”
I pulled back to study her flushed face. “Tell me everything Moretti sent you so I can know what not to give you.”
“That was it. I threw it all away as it came.” Her lips twitched into a coy smile. “Einstein and I burned the dresses when Dare worked out the new deal with them.”
“Jesus,” I said on a laugh and leaned in to kiss her again, but paused. “Did they send you rings?”
Her smile grew. “Nope.”
“Thank God.” My lips had just brushed hers when I stopped again. “When you say disappeared . . .”
She let her head fall back, her smile wide and not matching the groan sliding up her throat. “He would’ve found himself not . . . around . . . anymore. In Chicago. Or the United States. Possibly the world.”
Again, I wanted to laugh because her tone was so carefree. But I knew she was serious.
“I feel like I should actually be afraid of you and your family.”
Instead of laughing or brushing off my comment, she wrapped her arms loosely around my neck and pulled me close. “You haven’t seen or heard anything yet.”
Libby
“I’M HUNGRY,” EINSTEIN SAID FROM where she stood beside me, tapping rapidly on her phone. “If I ate all the pastries in that case, how much weight would I gain? Don’t answer that, I already know.”
I rolled my eyes. “I think you’ve been hanging out with Maverick and Diggs too much. You’ve been whining about food since you finished breakfast.”
Hence the reason for the coffee and food run.
Her thumbs stilled over the screen for a few seconds before slowly resuming whatever she’d been doing. By the time she spoke, they were flying at full speed again. “Haven’t really seen either of them.”
I made a sound of indifference in my throat. “Not even Maverick?”
“Your hearing is perfect. I don’t need to repeat myself.”
We moved forward a spot in line at our favorite coffee house before I said, “You’ve been gone a lot, just figured you would’ve been with him.”
“And I figured you’d have better things to do—like Maxon—than to care about whether or not I’ve been hanging out with Maverick.”
“Well, that’s rude.”
“Someone’s nosey,” she mocked in the same tone.
“What are you, twelve?”
“Actually, yes. How’d you know?”
I gritted my teeth to keep from saying something I’d regret—like Dare had a point in saying she’d turned into a different person in the year and a half since Johnny died.
“Just be careful,” I whispered instead.
“I’m safer when I’m not in the apartment.”
I cut her a look and opened my mouth to ask what that meant, when my phone rang.
I tensed when Conor’s name lit up my screen, and only took a second to think about what to do. Not answering would be too suspicious for Einstein to let go. Not something I could afford right now.
“Hey, we’re still getting coffee.”
There was a pause before Conor spoke, his voice low when he said, “You can’t talk.”
“Right.”
“Okay, there’s nothing,” he said quickly and quietly. “Literally nothing other than your prints.”
I wanted to beg him to tell me he was joking. I wanted to ask him to repeat himself just in case I’d heard him wrong. But Einstein was standing right next to me, listening to every word.
So I feigned indifference and said, “Okay. Be back soon.”
As soon as I hung up, Einstein mumbled, “See, I’m not the only one who’s hungry.”
Conor’s disheartening news, Einstein’s digs at our life, and the loud music in the shop were suddenly too much.
I turned on her and snapped, “If you’re that damn hungry, go to Brooks Street and pick up the order so we can be done that much faster.”
Einstein’s eyes widened and shifted to me.
“Jesus, I’m sorry. I just—shit.” I groaned and dropped my head into my hands when she turned and walked out of the coffee shop.
Part of me wanted to follow her and apologize, but I needed a second to breathe. I needed to come to terms with the fact that whoever was taking the pictures and leaving them for me was doing it without a trace.
I needed to wrap my head around the fact that Einstein was staying with someone—somewhere—and not telling me. Not only that, she was throwing it in my face that it was safer there than our apartment.
What the hell did that even mean?
I still needed to get coffee for everyone, and Einstein and I drove together. There wasn’t a point in getting out of the line when we’d have time to talk after I calmed down.
I called Conor after I ordered and was thankful he answered right away. “There’s really nothing?”
“Not a thing. No partials, no nothing. Only your prints.” He sighed heavily. “Does this mean it’s whoever your mom was worried about?”
“I have no idea,” I answered honestly. “I was hoping for proof of someone. This just makes it more disturbing.”
Terrifying. It made it terrifying.
People pulling pranks rarely covered their tracks.
“Yeah. Have there been any more?”
“No, I would’ve told you.” I turned at the sound of the barista calling my name and walked over to where there were two trays of drinks waiting. “Hey, Conor, I have to . . . oh God. No, no, no.”
The coffee shop. The barista talking to me. Conor.
Everything disappeared.
I wasn’t sure if I was breathing or how much time passed.
There, peeking out from beneath one of the trays, on the corner of an envelope, printed neatly, was my name.
I nearly dropped the phone.
“Libby,” Conor shouted.
“There’s one here,” I whispered, my voice wavering. “It’s right in front of me. It’s right—”
“Where are you?”
I turned to look at the people in the shop with me. I searched their faces and hoped someone would be watching me to give themselves away, while also praying no one would be.
“I’m getting coffee.”
“Don’t open it,” he yelled. “Take it and put it somewhere. You have your bag?”
“Yes.”
“Put i
t in there. Just pick it up and put it in there like it’s nothing, Libby. Otherwise they’re going to know they’re scaring you. Can you bring it to me?”
I hated that I was shaking. I hated that I wanted to face the people in the coffee house and scream, “What do you want?”
“No,” I whispered. “Einstein was next to me when you called earlier. She’s my ride back to the apartment.”
“Okay,” he said, his voice calmer now. “Probably wouldn’t make a difference. If there was nothing on the first two, I doubt there’ll be anything on that one.”
“I have to hang up to carry the coffee. I’ll open it when I can and send you a picture.”
“Okay. If you can, try to see if there’s anyone in there watching you.”
“Of course.” I left out that I already had.
I left out that I wanted this to be over.
I left out that I was scared.
After we hung up, I texted Einstein that I was done and dropped my phone in my bag next to the offending envelope, then grabbed the drink trays.
I made myself look straight ahead. Only allowing my gaze to touch the people in my natural line of sight when all I wanted was to look wildly around the entire shop.
When I got to the door, I turned to open it with my back, allowing myself a quick sweep of everyone inside.
No one was looking at me.
I knew every single one of them.
And not one of them seemed like someone who would break into my apartment and take a picture of Maxon and me while we were sleeping.
Well, there were some girls who might go a little crazy if they knew the Henley boys were sleeping in my apartment while waiting to close on the Holloway mansion. But not crazy of this magnitude. And not directed at me.
Einstein and I didn’t talk the entire way to the apartment.
I didn’t realize it until we were walking to our door. I’d meant to spend the time apologizing to her, but I was too distracted.
It was eating me alive knowing I had a new envelope on me but not knowing what it contained.
As soon as we were in the apartment, I pushed the drink trays into Maxon’s hands and pressed a hurried kiss to his lips, praying that would keep him from worrying about any wild expression that might be on my face.
“I’ll be right back.”
I rushed into my room and then into my bathroom—just in case anyone followed me—then dug into my purse for the envelope.
The second it was in my hands, everything came rushing back again.
The deafening silence.
The shards of ice pushing through my veins.
The unsteady legs and uneasy stomach.
I made myself take a few breaths before flipping it over to open it. The room still spun when I saw the printed name on the bottom corner.
I had the flap open and the Polaroid out in no time.
Too fast.
I needed more time to prepare.
But unlike the last two times, I knew exactly what I was seeing.
Maybe because I’d already suspected and had been hoping I was wrong.
It was of me, standing in line at the coffee house, with my head in my hands.
Right after Einstein had walked out.
At the bottom of the picture, in Sharpie, were the words:
I own you.
I stumbled back against the wall just before my legs gave out beneath me.
I pressed my hand to my mouth to mute the cry that wrenched from deep within me and struggled to drag in air.
I couldn’t break now. I needed to pull myself together. I needed to be strong. I needed to send this to Conor.
I needed to calm down.
But this person had been so close to me.
I leaned forward and snatched my purse off the counter and quickly searched through it until I found my phone. My movements were shaky as I dropped the picture on the ground and took a picture of it to send to Conor.
Me: This was taken right after you called today.
Less than a minute later, he responded.
Conor: Shit.
Conor: People at the shop?
Me: I knew everyone. No one was watching me.
Conor: Well. What do you think . . . mom’s fear or Maxon fan trying to scare you?
I glanced at the Polaroid, at the written words, and recalled the people in the coffee shop in my head again.
I own you.
Me: I’m afraid it’s the first. Still praying it’s the second.
Maxon
I SET MY SHOT GLASS on the kitchen island and welcomed the burn sliding down my throat and into my chest.
Ledger let out a roar and spread his arms wide.
The girls standing on the opposite side of the bar cheered in response—fuck if I knew why.
I dropped my head to hide the involuntary eye-roll when their cheers faded into high-pitched giggles.
“What did I say?” Ledger yelled, his glassy eyes straining to focus on us. “No better way to say welcome home.”
The girls cheered again.
Jared booed.
Jesus.
I poured another shot and slammed it back, then clapped Jared’s shoulder. When he looked at me, I held up two fingers and mouthed that I was done.
As soon as he nodded, I turned and forced my way through the tightly-packed kitchen, in search of the only person that mattered.
When I finally found her, I would’ve laughed if it weren’t for her expression.
Dare had been so sure my lifestyle would be bad for her. He’d been positive I wouldn’t be able to keep her from this.
Partying wasn’t my scene, but tonight was an exception and I wanted Libby with me. It was Henley’s Welcome Home Party in none other than the guys’ new home—the Holloway Estate.
Well, they wanted to change it to the Henley Estate. I didn’t think they’d be able to pull it off.
The only time I planned to take her to a party, and she was leaning against a wall with a dazed look like she didn’t even know there were other people around her.
I ducked in beside her and pressed a kiss to her neck. “You gonna be all right?”
Her neck vibrated with a moan, but it was delayed. So were the rest of her reactions and movements.
She’d been that way ever since she and Einstein returned from getting lunch that afternoon.
She lifted her eyebrows and forced a smile. “Hmm?”
“With being in this place.” I let my gaze dart across the massive open front room.
“Oh.” Her face pinched as she took in the surroundings, like she just realized where we were.
As though we hadn’t been there for over an hour.
“I don’t know. It’s weird. I got chills as soon as we walked in. Like even the walls knew a Borello had set foot inside and were angry.” A whisper of a laugh left her. “My dad has to be rolling in his grave.”
I cleared my throat and looked at the wall I’d just leaned against. “Right. Well, let’s move from the walls before they start talking.”
My mouth twitched into a smile when she dropped her head back and laughed.
Wild. Free. Fucking beautiful.
That was my Libby.
My Rebel.
“Did you have your two obligatory shots?” she asked as she slipped her hand into mine.
I huffed and glanced over my shoulder to where Ledger and Jared were still entertaining the crowd of women. “Be glad you missed it.”
She shot me an amused look and pressed closer to my side. “Does that mean we can leave?”
I blew out a slow breath and pulled my phone from my pocket. “Little over fifteen minutes.”
“Fifteen minutes of girls trying to crawl all over you and asking you to put a baby in them? Yes, please.”
I choked on a laugh. “That hasn’t happened.”
“Oh, it hasn’t?” She drove her hands into her long, dark hair and her expression turned frenzied—a look I’d come to know too well over the years.
“Oh God. Maxon James, put a baby in me,” she pretended to scream. She gave me a dull look and nodded toward the front door. “Two girls when we were trying to get in the door tonight.”
“That’s disturbing.”
Her brows lifted in agreement.
“The only woman who will ever carry my child is you, and for the love of God, don’t ever ask me to put a baby in you.”
Her head fell back for another full laugh, and I stood there, absorbing my favorite part of the woman I loved.
As the laugh ended, I bent down and drove my shoulder into her stomach, lifting as I went.
“Maxon.”
I didn’t respond, and I didn’t return any of the looks from the other people at the party.
“Maxon, what the hell are you doing?” Libby yelled when I finally made it to one of the halls leading to the bedrooms.
“I’m gonna put a baby in you.”
She made a choking sound. “No. No, that’s even more disturbing.”
My laugh was loud and unrestrained.
I quickly backed out of the first two rooms I came across when I realized they weren’t empty, then went into the third and kicked the door shut behind us.
“Caveman.”
“Something like that.” I smirked and twisted the lock, then slid her down my body and pressed her against the adjoining wall.
Her face was flushed and her eyes were bright with excitement, offsetting her next words. “You can’t honestly think I’m turned on now.”
I shrugged and curled my hand against her cheek. “Doesn’t matter. Fifteen minutes before we can leave, and I got us away from the party.”
She relaxed against the wall and my hand, her lips curling into a soft smile. “Thank you.”
“Anything for you.”
“So, fifteen minutes . . .” Her dark eyes flashed to mine, hidden under her thick lashes. The look all seduction and need.