Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 113584 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 568(@200wpm)___ 454(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113584 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 568(@200wpm)___ 454(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
In despair, I call the girls, tucking myself in the corner of the couch. “Hey,” I say quietly when they both answer, Abbie on her sofa, Charley in darkness.
“I’m in bed,” Charley whispers. “Is everything okay?”
“No,” I admit, trying so hard to stop my voice from cracking. “Nick was at the pub Jude and I ate at this evening.”
“Oh no,” Abbie breathes.
“He turned up at my office today too. He’s applied for a job at the company.”
“What the fuck?”
“He knew what pub I was in because he got into my phone and shared my location.”
“Wait.” A load of rustles and knocks come from Charley before a light pops on. She’s in her kitchen now, her wild hair wilder. “Are you serious?”
I nod. “Jude completely lost his shit.”
“Fuck, did he hit him?” Abbie casts aside the bag of crisps she’s munching her way through.
“No.” I sigh. “He manhandled me out before it came to that, but there was something not right.”
“How so?” Abbie asks.
“I got the feeling they knew each other.”
“What?” they both whisper.
“I don’t know. It was tense.” I sink farther down into the couch. “Nick was saying something but couldn’t finish because Jude shoved him out of the way.”
“Saying what?”
“He said, He’s not . . .” Both girls raise their brows. Both are finishing that sentence like I am. He’s not . . . who you think he is. “My new car got vandalised too. Someone scratched gold-digging bitch into the paintwork.”
Abbie gasps, outraged. “Who would do that?”
“I think Jude suspects Katherine.”
“Her husband needs to put that woman in a cage.” Charley’s head is shaking.
“What’s Jude going to do about it?” Abbie asks. “Just let her carry on terrorizing you?”
My poor brain isn’t up for this kind of mindfuck today. “I’m not worried about Katherine. I’m more concerned about what happened with Nick.”
“Have you asked Jude?”
“I’ve tried.”
“Then ask Nick,” Charley says.
I tilt my head, not relishing the thought. But maybe she’s right. And for the sake of my sanity . . . “Do you think I should?”
“God, yes.”
I sit up straight. Yes. Yes, I should. Because now my mind is taking every moment since I’ve been with Jude and overthinking it. Like the night last week when Nick showed up at the restaurant we were at when Jude met my friends. He wasn’t tracking me; Lloyd told him we would be there. And now I’m wondering if Jude left the table for a whole different reason. Did he see Nick before me? Does he know Nick? “I’m going to call him now. Thanks for listening to my woes.”
“Let us know, okay?”
I nod and hang up, bracing myself to call Nick. I chicken out four times before I eventually brave dialling him. It goes straight to voicemail, and I contemplate leaving him a message. But . . . no. I need to talk to him. Actually, I need to talk to him face-to-face.
Now.
I go back to the bedroom and quietly get dressed, watching Jude sleeping peacefully as I do. He doesn’t stir. After collecting my things, I slip out of his apartment quietly, constantly questioning if I’m doing the right thing. Whether I’m being paranoid. If I’m making somethings out of nothings. Regardless, I need to tell Nick to back off, and I will. He’s taken things too far. Tracking me, the interview at my work.
Way too far. It ends now.
Anouska is in the lobby when I make it there, saving me the trouble of finding her. If she can’t help me, I’m going nowhere. “Hey, Jude’s asleep, and I don’t want to wake him. I don’t suppose you would know where he put my keys after the repairs were made on my car?”
“I have them, give me a second,” she says, smiling as she pops through a door, then reappears a moment later.
“Thank you.” I give her praying hands.
“Is everything alright?” Her head tilts, the questions in her eyes rampant. “I saw you get back earlier.”
I force a smile. So she felt the tension too? Saw the explosions. “Everything’s great.” I don’t hang around, pivoting on my heels and walking out of Arlington Hall. “See you later,” I call, hurrying past Stan, whose smile falters as I go.
“Miss Lazenby,” he says in question. “Do you need any assistance?”
“Not today, Stan.” I walk the line of prestigious cars and head round the back to the staff car park, aiming my fob at my Jaguar. Not taking a moment to admire the newly repaired and polished paintwork, I hop in. Jude’s request not to drive these roads in the dark taps at the corner of my mind. It’s hard to ignore it, but I start the engine and reverse out of the space, knocking it into drive and pulling away. I hardly make it twenty feet before I’m braking, Anouska appearing and waving for me to stop.