Page 8 of The Burdens We Share
“Ivory, I need you to tell me what’s going on. What about these roses? You find them in all these weird places? How long has this been happening and what does this have to do with your house?”
I try to steady my breathing enough to get the words out, butthey still come out broken and slow from my uncontrollable sobs, “It started when Aria was in the hospital. I got a text that day from a blocked number. I- I didn’t th-” I hiccup, “I didn’t think anything of it. I thought it was a pr- pra- prank.” I take a deep breath and continue, “I never got another text and I honestly didn’t think it had to do with the roses until now.”
Selene, the woman who never flinches, sounds scared, “Okay, you thought it was a prank. What happened with these roses?”
“I find these pink roses everywhere, Selene,” I sob.
I hear a noise like a car is passing as Selene asks, “So you’ve found about how many? And you said this has been going on for months?” I realize she must be in the car.
I nod even though she can’t see me, “I don’t know for sure—maybe ten? A little more or less. It all started when Aria was in the hospital so about three months now,” I realize how stupid I sound. Selene probably thinks I am so stupid for not speaking up sooner, for letting it get this far.
She exhales and the sound comes out shaky. “And you said someone was in your house? Are you sure they aren’t still there?”
My eyes widen in fear. I didn’t even consider the possibility that they could still be inside. I rush to my bedroom door and slam it shut, turning the lock then stumble back, heart hammering. I take steps backward, afraid to take my eyes off the door in case someone tries to break through it. “I didn’t look. Oh my God, Selene, what if he’s still here?”
I hear the rev of an engine like Selene is driving in F1. “I’m on my way there, okay? I need you to keep me on the phone and call 911. You’re gonna have to add a contact to the call and do it that way so I can stay on the line with you.”
I hesitate with shaky hands to obey her directions. “Ivory, okay?”
“Yes, yes. I’m trying to do it now,” I fret.
I finally manage to dial 911 and when the operator picks up and asks what my emergency is, Selene speaks for me, “My name is Selene Stone. I have my client on the line here and someone broke into her home today. She’s very worried and we aren’t sure if this person is still in her house.”
The dispatcher sends police to my house and Selene tries to keep me calm, while also getting answers out of me, “You’re positive this is the person that’s been leaving the roses and not just a random break in?”
“There was a rose on my pillow with a note,” my voice comes out so low it almost sounds like a whisper.
Selene slaps what sounds like her steering wheel and blusters, “Fuck!”
I hear distant sirens and know the police have arrived and Selene will be here soon. I curl into a ball on the floor of my bedroom, the marble floors biting into my exposed flesh. I don’t even feel the cold—just the fear. My body shakes. I start to shiver—but not from the cold. From pure and undiluted fear.
Chapter 4
Dallas
I open the doorof my penthouse office and let it close behind me. This morning, like every other Monday morning, I had a strategy meeting, followed by some personal client meetings. Now, it’s noon and I have about an hour to dedicate to going through and answering emails before my one o’clock meeting with Harvey to discuss performance and the numbers for our current quarter.
I’ll admit, I like to keep busy. I get a certain level of pride and excitement from being booked nearly all day every day, but having Harvey around to divide the workload has removed a heavy burden from my shoulders. When I purchased his security company from him all those years ago, it was just your average protection and private security company. In the years since, I’ve grown it into not only a personal protection company but also a corporate security and tech security company. We don’t just work with high-profile clients now. We work with government officials and extremely important people and companies.
I’ve built on top of what Harvey already put into place and I built it up so tall that it started leaning on one side and when I wasn’t strong enough to hold it up alone, I had to call Harvey and convince him to hold up the other side.
That was easily one of the best and smartest business decisions of my life because our company has never been performing better. Besides, having Harvey around proved to be a lifesaver when I slacked off and decided to fall off the grid sixmonths ago. The thought resurfaces the reason I lost it and fell off the grid and I force the memory at bay, clenching my jaw tighter as I stroll over to my desk and sit.
I’ve become a natural at this. At pretending things don’t bother me. At pushing them away, sweeping them under the rug where I don’t have to properly deal with them. When I get like this, it feels like nothing and nobody can calm me down. Well, there’s only one person who seems to be able to steady me, but that file stays locked up in my desk drawer. Opening that drawer and sliding that file out has become almost second nature to me when I feel overwhelmed or stressed. I’m fully aware that as every day goes by, I find myself reaching for that file more and more. I don’t know what that means and I don’t want to.
I’m staring at the drawer now, the mahogany wood almost mocking me. I glance up even though I know I’ll find my office empty, and quickly revert my gaze to the drawer. I reach for the key I keep in my suit jacket pocket and withdraw the small silver key. I slide it into the lock and turn it until I hear a faint click. I bring my fingers up to the drawer handle and close my fingers around the black steel. Just as I’m about to pull it open, my office door barges open and my eyes shoot up.
I immediately push the drawer closed and turn the lock as my gaze focuses on Selene Stone. She looks breathless, strands of her usually perfectly groomed hair sticking out in odd places. She also has a flush to her cheeks that I’ve never seen before. Something must be horribly wrong if Selene looks as though she isn’t in control for once. That woman thrives on control—seeing her like this is... unsettling. I’ve come to know the short woman well and she is all business. She’s a damn shark and right now, she’s looking an awful lot like a feeder fish. “What’s the matter? Your little trio of rockstars causing you trouble?” I tease her, my head tilting to the side.
She doesn’t smile. Her brows are creased with what looks likefear and she completely brushes off my question as she closes my office door behind her and rushes towards my desk. So much for dedicating an hour to cleaning out my inbox. “I need your help,” her voice is breathy as if she just sprinted to my office. If her barging in here was any indication, I’d say that the odds of her sprinting here are pretty high. Whatever happened must be bad if it’s got her acting so out of character.
I immediately lean back in my chair, tucking the small key back into my suit jacket. “This must be good. I know how much it kills you to say you need help.”
Selene completely shakes off my jab and continues, “It’s about Ivory.”
A breath catches in my lungs and I sit up straighter, focusing my full attention on Selene. Whatever playfulness I just had disappears at the mention of the little devil that is Ivory Aslan. “What’s wrong?” I try to keep my voice neutral even though I’m feeling anything but.
Selene rests her hands on my desk, palms down, and looks up at me. I can suddenly see years worth of exhaustion in her features. “Someone has been stalking her for months and today he broke into her house.”
