Page 53 of Lost on Ice
“Thank you,” I murmur.
Jake stands up and shakes Detective Peterson’s hand, thanking him as well. He places his hand on the small of my back and escorts me out of the police station and to his truck. We get in and sit in silence for several long moments. I don’t know what to say… what to do.
Nowhere feels safe. My skin itches as if whoever this monster is has their eyes on me even now.
“Do you want to go get Lilah and go back to the apartment?” Jake asks me in a soft voice.
I look at him and tears well up in my eyes. I’ve been holding onto my control by the tips of my fingertips and I just can’t take it anymore. A long, shaky breath breaks through my lips and I start to sob.
Shaking my head, I answer, “No… I don’t want to go back there until I’m sure there are no cameras or anything, and I sure as hell don’t want to take Lilah back there yet.”
Jake reaches over and grabs me, pulling me across the seat and into his lap. He wraps his arms around me and holds me tight and I curl up against him and cry into his chest.
“Okay.” Jake murmurs. “You don’t have to go back there yet. Not until we know it’s safe.”
I whimper and sob, clinging to him as I let my fear and devastation pour out of me. Jake just holds me and lets me break, and I do find comfort in his strength and warmth. The steady beat of his heart is soothing and I slowly start to calm down.
“I’m going to protect you,” he declares softly. “I know I haven’t been the best friend the past few years. I haven’t been there for you, but I swear, Abbie, I’m going to be right by your side from now one. No one will hurt you or Lilah.”
Leaning back, I gaze up at him and murmur, “Why do you want to help me so badly?”
His brow furrows and he rubs the tip of his nose against mine. “Why wouldn’t I? It’s you, Abbie.”
My heart flutters and I lose my breath a little bit. His confident tone and determined look actually makes me feel a little better.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
He appears thoughtful and then says, “How about I take you to lunch?”
I give him a shaky smile, relieved that he accepts my response so easily and isn’t pushing me.
“I’d like that,” I whisper. “I’d like that a lot.”
We pull up to Sal’s restaurant a little before noon. I've been quiet since we left the police station, and Jake hasn’t pressed me to talk, which I appreciate. As we get out of the car to head to the restaurant’s entrance, he reaches over and takes my hand. I know he’s just trying to give me a bit of comfort, and I can’t deny how good it feels when his fingers wrap around mine. His hand is so large and warm.
He glances down, looking a little nervous, as if he expects me to pull away. I don’t.
We walk into the restaurant and settle in a booth in a quiet corner, where we can have a little bit of privacy.
After we order our lunch, Jake gazes across the table at me. “It’s going to be okay.”
I shrug, wringing my hands together in a gesture I realize looks anxious. Which makes sense, because I am anxious, but I don’t necessarily want to show it so blatantly. “Will it really be okay, though?”
I know he’s just trying to get my mind off my stalker, and the invasion of my privacy and home, but his statement still feels a bit ridiculous. He seems to pick up on that too, and changes the subject.
“So, tell me,” he slowly begins. “Why’d you move to Harrisburg, anyway?”
I raise my brows in surprise, and I hesitantly reply, “Oh, well, a friend from college reached out and told me about a way to become a nurse practitioner through a program with an open position at the hospital there. At the time, I just needed to get away. Go out on my own. Start fresh.” I hesitate a moment before adding. “Have Lilah.”
He tilts his head and it’s clear he is going to ask the question I’m sure has been on his mind for a while now. I brace myself for it, gritting my teeth. I can feel the energy already. He’s going to ask if she isactuallyhis. He must know, deep-down. He starts, frowns for a moment, and then says in a curious tone, “Why didn’t you tell anyone about Lilah?”
Huh. Same general subject, but maybe he hasn’t made the connection. In a weird way, that kind of angers me.
I narrow my eyes. “Well, why didyoustop calling?”
My sharp question seems to catch him off-guard and he doesn’t answer right away. We stare at each other as the tension between us builds until it’s almost suffocating. Finally, he glances off to the distance and mumbles, “Some puck bunny tried to baby trap me. I’d like to say I saw through her bullshit right away, but I didn’t.”
Irritation flashes through me and I scrunch up my face.“That’s a weird way to tell me you were fucking other people. You could have told me you were done hooking up with me instead of leaving me guessing.”
