Stuck to my door is a shrine.
A freaking shrine!
Photos of Declan are all over the door. A mixture of new ones and old. And weirdly enough, many have me cut into them. As in, he’s walking along the street and there is an out of place photo of myself stuck over the space next to him. Other photos where Declan and others are clearly posed for the camera have whoever was between us cut out so that it looks more like we are together.
On top of that, there are hearts drawn everywhere and so much freaking glitter! It’s a teenage girl’s closet that has mistaken Declan for the latest boyband heartthrob.
I reach out and touch some of the photos, barely believing they are real. The hearts are drawn with what feels like crayon or something similar, and everything is glued to my door.
I’m weirded out by this strange display, but I’m also beginning to feel scared.
Someone broke into my house after Declan had the locks changed and did … whatever the hell this is supposed to be. Why?
I glance around my bedroom, sensing as though things have taken on a more sinister feel. Suddenly, I don’t want to be in my house anymore.
I reach out and pull a bunch of clothes off the hangers, more falling to the floor, but I don’t care. I haphazardly throw them into the suitcase, and then seconds after I zip it up, I race out of my room, belatedly grabbing my mail and making it out of the house without bothering to lock the door behind me. What’s the point? Obviously, locks aren’t keeping whoever is doing this out.
Once I’m in my car with it running while I idle at the curb, I pull out my cell and call Declan.
“Hey, everything okay?”
“No.”
I barely have to wait ten minutes before Declan is pulling up to my house, stalking his way toward me a second after he has turned his engine off.
I take my keys out of the ignition and step out as he gets to me and cups my face with his warm hands, looking at me intensely.
“What happened?” he demands. I wouldn’t tell him over the phone, and I wasn’t trying to be a pain. It’s just that some things need to be seen to be believed.
“You have to see it with your own eyes,” I tell him, cupping my own hands over his before I curl my fingers under his hold and encourage him to lower his hands.
Clearly satisfied that I’m not hurt, he doesn’t fight me.
I let go of one hand, keeping hold of the other, and walk him back into my house.
His stare is laser focused as I drag him through each room, taking everything in, wondering what the hell I’m going to show him.
His grip tightens when I lead him into my bedroom. No doubt he’s contemplating something truly depraved.
He looks furious for a split-second before he takes in that nothing seems disturbed, nothing overly obvious that something is wrong in here.
“Sash?” he asks.
I let go of his hand to open my closet door, and his eyes widen at the shrine that has been set up in his honor.
“What the fuck?” His feet falter a little as he makes his way closer.
“Are we sure whoever is fucking with me isn’t actually doing this because they want you?” I finally voice the question that’s been playing over in my mind for the past ten minutes.
I don’t know why they are messing with me, since the flowers were ordered before the wedding and before Declan and I hooked up, but this is clearly a shrine dedicated to him. One that makes me look like I’m obsessed with him.
I tap a photo of us glued together before he grabs my hand and pulls it away.
“Don’t touch them. Prints,” he mutters.
I wince at the fact that I have already touched many of them.
“Well, you’ll find my prints on them. I was curious at first,” I warn. “What is going on, Dec? I don’t understand.”
He grabs my hand again, his grip much tighter. His lack of an answer worries me.
Why isn’t he reassuring me that this is nothing? That I’m fine and this is just some silly prank?
“Do you know where these photos are from?” he asks.
I look closer at them. The photos of us when we were kids are ones I own. Well, I did own.
I remove my hand from his to search out my old photo album. I have been meaning to scan these photos and make them digital. I just hadn’t gotten around to it yet.
Opening up my album, I thankfully see all my photos are intact. Then I take the album back into my bedroom and show a few to Declan that I notice are replicated.
“It looks like photo paper,” he says, staring closely at the photos. “Who else has copies?”
“Many of these are mine. I might have had a few framed from Maude, or Zander and Joey’s parents gave me some.” God knows the guys wouldn’t have wanted a bunch of photos of us. Not their style or whatever. I have no idea what Artie’s parents did with their photos of him and us after he died. I was always too chicken to ask.
“Anyone else?”
“I don’t think so. Some of these definitely came from Zander’s Mom, Sadie. She was always taking photos of us. I asked her to send me some before I left for college. She sent me tons. I think that’s it.”
He nods, his eyes moving back to the door. “Some of these of me are recent, maybe a couple weeks old. They’re older than the wedding. That one”—he points to a photo with the nursing home in the background—“was taken three weeks ago. I got a hole in that jacket at work the next day and threw it out.”
“You actually threw out a piece of clothing because of a hole?” I don’t ask this to be a bitch, but because I have now seen a lot of Declan’s lounge wear, and a lot of it is damaged.
“When I say hole, I mean, my sleeve was basically hanging off. How about you? This one looks taken on the street.”
I look closer at the photo. I’m not wearing anything that helps me date the photo, but I do see the hand of the person next to me, which has mostly been cut out. It’s Cynthia’s. I know this because she’s wearing the bracelet Vanessa got her for their anniversary. She only wore it around me once before she lost it a few days later, hence her freaking out the other day about finding it in my desk drawer.
“That one is maybe a couple of months ago.”
“So, someone has been following us for a while,” Declan points out.
“For what purpose?”
“I don’t know.” He frowns. I know this is going to drive him insane trying to figure it out. “I’m going to call my cop friend in. Filling your house with flowers is one thing, but this is undeniably creepy.”
I nod, completely agreeing with his statement.
***
Declan drops me off at his house much later on, deciding I’m too rattled to drive, which is total bullshit and more about him not wanting me driving alone. At least I make it to his house with some new clothes.
I make us dinner and open a bottle of wine as I wait to hear back from him.
I got to meet his cop friend today while making a statement to the police. Since Joey was there, which I can only assume is because Declan finally called him in to help, it meant a lot of explaining.
When said out loud and from the beginning, I began to feel worried.
Before, I was concerned but not worried. It was easy to sweep what is happening away and not think too hard on it. Declan is also a nice distraction. But said all at once, it feels more chilling. More real. And it is beginning to add up and feel more sinister.
With the motive unclear, it makes it hard to know what is going on or how to stop it.
Thankfully, with Joey helping out, things move much quicker, meaning Declan arrives home sooner than expected.
“How did it all go?” I ask from the couch, watching as he drops his keys down on the counter and removes his jacket.
“We installed cameras on the outside of your home, as well as motion sensors. There is no place someone can break into your home without them starring as the lead in the surveillance video. Jerry has a program monitoring it
, so as soon as something activates it, he gets an alert. He can view the recording immediately and will make the necessary calls. If this happens again, it will be the last time.”
I nod, standing to greet him when he makes his way to me. I’m grateful that my home will soon be back to being safe.
“For now, you will continue to stay with me.”
I smile now, watching as he moves his hands forward and rests them on my hips, bringing me closer to him until we are touching.
“Can you ask that like it’s a question?” I say through a smile. Part of me loves how Declan can’t seem to word anything without it coming out like a demand.
Instead of rewording his words like I expect, he leans in and cups my face, adjusting me to the right angle for his lips to line up with mine. He stares down over me, and the anticipation eats at me when he doesn’t move to close the deal.
“Do you like it when I kiss you, Sasha?” he asks.
“Yes,” I say breathlessly. I don’t even care how lame I sound. I want him to kiss me, not tease me!
“Then I think it will be best if you stay with me so we can do this as often as possible, don’t you agree?”
I smile now, chuckling a little at how he was able to ask this as a question when there is clearly no way I will ever turn that down.
“I’m okay with that.”
He gives me a quick kiss, one nowhere near deep enough or adequate to satisfy my hunger, before he leans back and glides his hands back down to rest at my hips again. After giving them a squeeze and making sure my attention remains on him, he continues speaking.
“The only prints we could find on the photos were yours. Not even the glue on the back gave us anything. Whoever did it was careful. The paper it was printed on is standard photo paper and basically untraceable. We spoke to most of your neighbors; nobody noticed anything unusual. Right now, we don’t have many leads to go on. Joey is looking into the photos themselves, seeing if we can get any angles where the photographer is visible in the ones of us taken more recently, but I’m not holding out a lot of hope on that angle.”
I’m surprised by how much they were able to do today. Just how good is this cop friend of his?
“So, what do we do now?” I try not to sound too helpless.
He leans down until his forehead rests against mine, his eyes staring right through me. “We keep doing what we are doing. We both remain vigilant, smart, and we keep an eye out.”
“Do you think this is about you instead of me?” I whisper, searching his eyes for an answer. “I mean, a shrine dedicated to you seems a little obvious.”
“Right now, you’re being targeted. Whether it is because someone has me in their sights, I don’t know. But as of right now, every point of contact has been directed at you. So, for right now, we’re going to keep assuming this is aimed at you.”
Unease grows within me at hearing this. I obviously wouldn’t wish for this to be happening to Declan, but that doesn’t mean I wish to hell it wasn’t happening to me.
“Joey, Jerry, and I are on this. On Monday, I’m going to brief Zander, too. No matter what happens, this will be over soon,” he promises.
I felt safe knowing Declan was working on this from the beginning, but knowing Joey and Zander will be working this, too, I can’t help feeling like I have been wrapped up in a security detail the likes of the Secret Service.
Declan bringing up Zander reminds me we need to talk about that, too.
“Is Zander going to be a problem for us?”
Declan’s serious gaze shifts to something appearing much more uncertain. “I don’t know. I hope not.”
“You think he won’t be happy for us?”
“I think he sees you as his little sister, and any guy who tries to get close to you is immediately on his shit list.”
“But you’re different. You’re his brother,” I point out.
“As soon as he finds out about us, I won’t be his brother. I’ll be the asshole trying to fuck his sister.”
I wince at his blunt words, but mostly because I fear he might be right.
As time has passed, I have found my almost zero worry creeping up to wondering if I haven’t underestimated how Zander will react.
“Unfortunately for us, there has yet to be any fucking involved,” I joke, but it falls flat. “Zander might not love this at first, but he’ll come around. He loves you, and no matter what, you are his brother. He might be shocked by this. God knows I’m still a little in shock myself, but he’s not an idiot. Five minutes with the new us and he’ll see how much things have changed.”
Declan smiles now, his unease from before shifting away. “You’re right. Besides, we have all of tomorrow to have fun before we have to worry about him. So, I say we enjoy it.” He grins mischievously, and I find myself smiling in response.
“And how do you propose we do that?”
“I think I might need to keep up my end of the bargain.” He shifts his hands down from my lips and presses them against my ass until I’m flat against him.
“Bargain?” My voice hitches on the word.
“Where I give you some incentive to keep staying here with me,” he answers before his lips finally crash over mine, not holding back.
He picks me up as we maul each other’s faces, and instead of a make out session on the couch, he takes us to his bedroom.
Part of me hopes tonight will end with a naked, sweaty dance that we are so horny for that I’m surprised our clothes haven’t yet disintegrated from the heat overtaking us both. Unfortunately, it ends in bruised lips, one case of blue balls, one seriously depressed vagina, and two cold showers.
If Declan wanted to wait for Zander to know about us, for us to be sure we are in this for more than just sex, then I’m giving him until Monday night before I jump him.
There is nothing that will get in my way.
Well, except for the fucking bastard who gets in my way and causes Monday to end in disaster.
Chapter 13
Monday begins completely uneventfully.
Zander is already in the office when we arrive, which I then have to assume Joey got here early enough to let him in after they changed the locks and the security code. He is on the phone with his door closed. He has his blinds open, but it’s clear he’s deep in discussion with someone. Therefore, Declan and I decide to wait to discuss things with him. Given my phone begins to ring off the hook almost immediately, I don’t get much chance to worry about what Zander’s reaction is going to be today.
The morning flies by. The only time I see past invoices, emails, and the constant ringing of my phone is the quick group email Ava, Cynthia, and I have going.
We decide to have lunch today to catch up. After Cynthia sent me a text message yesterday, apologizing for her reaction and asking to chat in person today, I assume we will be talking about the bracelet incident.
I had a weekend to cool off, too, and the only explanation I can come up with is that someone intentionally stole Cynthia’s bracelet, then tried to frame me, or at least make me look suspicious, by placing that bracelet in my drawer.
The only purpose to do this is because they wanted Cynthia mad at me. If that isn’t motivation to get past this and do the opposite of whoever this asshole is wants, then I don’t know what is.
Cynthia is one of my best friends, and I refuse to let some silly argument change that.
“He’s still busy?” Declan’s voice jolts me from my thoughts.
I look up at him, smiling, before I glance down the corridor to see Zander is pacing in his office now, phone stuck to his ear. I have no idea who he is speaking with, but I haven’t seen him separated from his phone all morning.
The boys were meant to have a meeting an hour ago to discuss what has been happening the past two weeks while Zander was away, but Zander hasn’t left his office once, and Joey ended up leaving half an hour ago to work on a new case.
“Looks like it.”
“I wonder what has him so
riled up?” he murmurs, narrowing his eyes on Zander’s pacing.
“Probably some client upset that Zander dared to take some time away to enjoy his honeymoon.” I snort, already having dealt with a few frustrated clients these past two weeks.
“Assholes.” Declan is smiling, sitting on the edge of my desk as he folds his arms over his chest.
How the hell can this man look so appetizing with what seems like little effort?
“Want to have lunch with me today? I cleared my morning for the meeting that never happened, and I assumed Zander would have some choice words for me afterward, so my next appointment isn’t until after one.”
“I can’t, sorry. I’m having lunch with the girls today.”
“Oh.” It would be comical how disappointed Declan sounds if I didn’t feel the exact same way.
“We have had lunch every day together since we got back from the wedding,” I tell him, saying it more to myself.
“You’re right; you should catch up with the girls. Maybe I should come, too? Make sure you’re safe.”
Now I roll my eyes. “I’m not saying what isn’t happening is annoying and creepy, but it’s hardly life threatening.” When he opens his mouth to disagree, I quickly cut in. “And lunch is going to be five minutes away. We’ll be in public, surrounded by people, and back within the hour.”
“I still think it might be best if I’m with you, just to be safe,” Declan grumbles.
I smile at that. It’s nice that he would be willing to sit through a girls’ lunch just to be close to me, not that I think he’s properly thought this through.
“You really want to hear about Zander’s junk? Because, I guarantee, that will be a lot of the conversation. It will be eighty percent honeymoon sex talk, eighteen percent interrogating me about you, and two percent how delicious our food will be.”
Declan is silent now, and I wonder if I lost him.
“Declan?”
“Are you sure you even want to go to this?”
“Well, that two percent food talk will be awesome,” I tell him.
I Knocked Him Out (Love at First Crime Book 2) Page 20