His lips twitched as he touched the tip of his finger lightly to her palm, next to the knife, before pulling away. “Not sure how much damage it would do, but okay.”
“Don’t give me any reason to find out.”
Dante chuckled. “Noted.”
Jules waved at the couch. “Get some sleep. You look exhausted.” She started for the hallway. Before she disappeared through the opening, she stopped and pointed a finger at him. “I expect coffee to be made when I get up. That was the deal.”
He grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”
Jules made her way to her bedroom and closed the door firmly behind her. No lock, but somehow she wasn’t too concerned. Despite what she had told him, Jules did trust Dantethe cop. Hopefully that was who was here in her house with her and notFrat Boy.
Jules got ready for bed and slid under the blankets. Although she drifted off quickly, she woke what felt like minutes later. Holding her breath, she glanced toward the window. Nothing but those slow-dancing branches moved behind the glass. The red digital numbers next to the bed read four-forty-five. Her mind was racing, and although she didn’t have to be up until six, she doubted she would be able to sleep again. With a sigh, she grabbed the burner phone she’d set next to her bed the night before.
The text and email icons were both lit up, and she settled against the cushions and opened her texts. There were four of them—two each from Kelli and Brie, although Jules suspected they had conspired together to send them. She scanned the first one.
Kelli: Okay, look. We know that what is happening is creepy and dangerous and we’re extremely worried about you. Having said that, what was up between you and the gorgeous cop??? Yowza. The electricity.
Brie: Yeah. I thought you said he was awful. If you meant awful cute and awful brave and awful into you, then I agree.
Kelli: I retract my apology for setting the two of you up. You are perfect for each other, even if you can’t see it (yet).
Brie: I think so too. Also, you’re being careful, right? I don’t like the idea of you being at your house alone.
Jules managed a grin. Her friends knew how serious the situation was. They also knew how to lighten her mood and alleviate her anxiety. As much as she would prefer a knock-knock joke to them razzing her about Dante de Marco, she’d take any bit of levity she could get right now. She would also immediately set her friends straight.
I’m thirty-four years old. I’m not looking for electricity. I’m looking for stability. Respectability. Maturity. None of which Dante de Marco can offer me. Besides, I need to be focused on the guy after me and not get distracted by the gorgeous cop. Not that I would.
She hit send and then lowered the phone to the blanket to stare up at the softly lit stucco ceiling. Was any of that true? Well, shewasthirty-four, so there was that. Also, she did need to stay focused on what the psychopath might do next. As for the rest, well, it would make her life a lot easier if it were. The jolt that went through her when Dante looked at her in that intense way of his was decidedly inconvenient. She might not be able to call images to her mind, but she had no trouble remembering feelings or sensations, as ill-advised or dangerous as they might be.
Speaking of dangerous… She lifted the phone again.
By the way, purely to set your minds at ease and not to encourage you in your foolishness in any way, I found out from a neighbor that the cop has been sleeping in his car in front of my house the last few nights. He is now on my couch, but I plan to check into a hotel tomorrow, so don’t worry about me. Just take care of yourselves.
All right, enough of that. Jules exited her messages and hit the email icon indicating she had one waiting for her. It had been sent an hour ago, and she clicked on the box to open it up. From her mother. She frowned. That was strange. Her sweet mother had suffered a mental breakdown years ago and been in and out of institutions ever since. Now she was in a good mental hospital, and Jules visited her every few days. Although she did email her mom occasionally, she couldn’t remember the last time her mother had sent her a message. Especially not at three-forty-five in the morning.
After the first few words, Jules’ breaths tangled in her throat as badly as her legs had tangled in her sheets the night she spotted the face in her window. She sat up as she scanned the few lines again.
My dear Jules. I just wanted to let you know that the nicest man is here in my room visiting with me. He says he is a friend of yours and wants me to say hi to you. Love, Mom
Jules tossed back the covers and scrambled out of bed. She had to get to her mother. Now. If thisvisitorwas who Jules thought he was, he was definitely not nice, and he was definitely not a friend.
CHAPTER
TEN
Light footstepson the living room floor roused him, and Dante opened his eyes. As he watched, Jules quietly lifted her black jacket from the hook next to the door and reached for the knob.
Dante repressed a sigh. “Do you actually have a death-wish, Jules? Because it would be helpful for me to know that.”
She yanked her hand away from the doorknob. In the wan moonlight filtering through the windows, he caught a glimpse of her face. His chest clenched. She looked terrified. What was that about?
He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the couch. “What is it? Has something happened? Is he here?” He reached for the holster and Sig he’d set on the coffee table before stretching out on the couch.
She shook her head. “No. He’s with my mother. Or was, an hour ago.”
“What? How do you know?” Dante shot to his feet, grabbed the holster, and strode across the room toward her.
“Can I fill you in on the way?”