Page 81 of Claiming Ours
“Start. Talking,” I gritted out, jutting an accusing finger at Oliver, but it was Baylee who responded.
“I searched out Oliver today because I thought he should know about an uncomfortable incident that happened yesterday in the clinic after he left.” My face must have shown the suspicion that churned in my chest, because she rushed out the next part. “When he came by with Ethan to check on Hank. Which, FYI, good news. He’s debating adopting him once he’s back to full health.”
I eyed my friend—who I really did trust, but being cheated on once made you suspicious as fuck in every situation no matter the person—and dipped my chin, letting him know he was no longer on my kill list.
For now.
“While we were there, I updated Baylee on the female victim, and Ethan told us what he found on the trail.” My lips parted to tell him to get the fuck on with it, but he held up a hand. “Which was nothing. Not a single damn thing. He’s back out there now, searching.” Oliver’s brows dipped in what appeared to be worry or something similar.
“What. Happened,” I snarled, inching closer to Memphis and Baylee, hating the distance between her and me while I was this worked up.
“Taylor stopped by,” Baylee said, keeping a close eye on both me and Memphis.
That was all Memphis heard before he carefully detached himself from Baylee and once again attempted to storm out of the cabin, but he couldn’t get past the deputy sheriff. Oliver sighed and looked to the ceiling, mouthing something to himself.
“What did he do, Kitten?” Memphis whispered softly, an edge of restrained anger lacing his tone. “We will kill him if he touched you.”
“Nothing,” she breathed, eyes wide. “He didn’t do anything. He couldn’t even get within a few feet of me.” She gestured to the two dogs. “I had them with me.”
“Good girl,” I praised. Grabbing her hand, I guided her back into my arms and ran a knuckle along her cheek.
“Holy hell, this is too much right now,” Oliver snapped, sounding utterly exasperated. “I’ll let Baylee fill you in on the details so I can get out of here before you guys”—he gestured between the three of us—“do whatever it is you’re going to do.”
A smirk appeared on Baylee’s face. “Oh, don’t act like you don’t know what’s going to happen.” She shifted in my hold to face the deputy sheriff, whose face was now beet red. Then she turned those icy blue eyes to me, and all humor faded. “Not anything to do with me, big guy. I’m referencing a fun night he and two others had.”
“Fucking Ethan,” Oliver grumbled, cheeks turning even redder. Grabbing the doorknob, he yanked the solid wood open. “Thanks for filling me in, Baylee. I’ll update Hudson and monitor Taylor.”
“Wait,” Baylee said before Oliver could bolt. “There is something else I wanted to bring up that I need you to look into.” She worried at her lip, gaze flicking around the cabin. “I’ve been getting these calls, unknown calls. It wasn’t that big of a deal at first but now?—”
“Now what?” I practically growled.
“The calls are constant and when I pick up no one says anything just this creepy heavy breathing thing and?—”
“Little Bit,” I said voice strained. “How long? How long has this been going on?”
“The calls a month or so, maybe longer. It was just every few days at first but now they are texting me some really disturbing stuff too.” Tears filled her lower lids. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, any of you, I just thought it would go away.”
“Where is your phone?” Oliver asked. Baylee pointed to the coffee table. He marched over and swiped it off the polished wood, shoving it into his pocket. “I’ll look into the calls and texts. If I can’t find out who is harassing you, then I’ll pull Carl in to help. Until then you’ll need to get a new phone, a new number too.”
“And when you find out who has been harassing our girl,” Memphis said, inked hands curled into tight fists at his side. “You let us handle them.”
“Fucking hell no. I do not need more dead bodies around here. I’ll take care of it.” Clearly having had enough of our drama, he stormed out onto the porch, slamming the door behind him.
With Oliver gone, some of my tension faded, and it seemed to for Memphis too. With a sigh, he tugged Baylee into his arms,picked her petite frame up, and carried her over to the massive couch, pulling her onto his lap with him.
“Tell us everything, Kitten. From that fucker approaching you to the calls and texts.”
Baylee studied me as I lowered to the couch beside them, sitting so close that my side pressed against Memphis’s. She noted the lack of distance between us curiously.
“Taylor came to my office, saying he just wanted to talk?—”
“Did he know you were alone?” I asked. Her lips sealed shut, telling me everything I needed to know. “Did he mention purposefully waiting for you to be alone, without us around, to have this conversation?”
“Yes,” she squeaked.
“Because…” I prompted, though I already had an idea after Memphis suggested Taylor wanted Baylee for himself before we left for Caper.
“He said he wanted a chance with me, now that I was done grieving.” Her eyes narrowed as she pressed her lips into a thin line, clearly pissed about something else he said.
