Page 37 of The Defender
“Speed limits still exist, you know.”
“Not for me.Kidding,” he said when I side-eyed him. “Though I bet I can talk my way out of any speeding ticket.”
“If you’re trying to convince me to ride with you, you’re failing miserably.” I pushed open the double doors. A sudden gust of wind stole into my lungs, and I quickly picked up my pace. This was my least favorite part about living in the UK. When fall and winter hit, I was tempted to fly straight back to sunny San Diego. “Besides, I’m not going home first. I’mcelebrating with the girls.” Scarlett and Carina hadn’t replied yet, but it was an easy excuse.
“Celebrating what?”
“Blackcastle offered me the junior nutritionist role. I just found out today.”
Vincent’s eyes brightened. “That’s amazing. Congratulations.”
“Thank you.”
My mind flashed back to our night on the couch, when I’d admitted that I might have to leave the club soon.
I hope you stay at Blackcastle. It wouldn’t be the same without you.
I’d never admit it, but his words hit me in the feels at exactly the right time. I’d needed the reassurance more than I thought, and I hadn’t expected to get it from Vincent, of all people.
A golf ball lodged itself in my throat. He might have moved out by January, and if I turned down the offer, I wouldn’t see him every day anymore.
It wouldn’t be the same without you either.I hadn’t said those words out loud at the time, but I’d felt them deep in my gut. And that feeling was back in full force.
Vincent’s brows dipped. “You don’t sound too excited. I thought you wanted an offer.”
“I do. I mean…” I trailed off. The desire to spill all my woes to him crowded my throat, but I held back at the last minute. The Blackcastle parking lot wasnotthe right place to ambush someone with an impromptu therapy session. “I need to think about it first. I don’t want to rush into a decision.”
“I can help.” His dimple flashed. “Pros versus cons. Pro: stay, and you’ll see me every day, even after I move out. Con: leave, and you won’t.”
I laughed, my chest lightening for the first time since I left Jones’s office. “That’s not how a pro/con list works, but thanks. It did help. I guess I’m turning down the offer after all.”
“You say that now, but—” Vincent cut off abruptly.
We’d reached our cars, which were conveniently parked next to each other. I followed his stare to the hood of his Lamborghini, where a plain brown envelope was tucked beneath his windshield wipers.
It could be nothing, but considering what had happened the last time someone left him an unexpected gift, I understood why it’d freak him out.
Another chill swept through the lot. I shivered, missing the warmth of my cramped but heated office.
The muscles in Vincent’s neck stretched taut. His earlier playfulness disappeared as he walked over and retrieved the envelope. He opened it, his expression inscrutable.
The silence ballooned until I couldn’t take it anymore. “What does it say?”
His jaw flexed. After a tense beat, he handed me the note without a word.
I took it. A moment later, my blood iced because the “note” wasn’t a note at all—it was a photo of the doll his intruder had left him last month. It was propped against a plain white background with no distinguishing marks. Next to it, little round red marbles spelled out one sentence.
Did you like your gift?
CHAPTER 12
VINCENT
I had to give props to whoever was behind the doll and photo. They’d mastered the art of creeping me the fuck out with seemingly innocuous items.
Either they owned a replica of the doll they’d “gifted” me, or they took this picture before they broke into my house, sat on it, and waited until my guard was down before giving it to me.
“This is so fucked.” Brooklyn looked a little green. “Whodoesthis? It’s like something out of a B-grade horror movie.”
