As I hunted through my purse for earrings and a necklace, I hit the jackpot. Thanks to being reliant on the bus, my bag had eventually turned into a home on the go. After all, I couldn’t just jump in my car and run back home if I’d forgotten something. I snatched out my makeup bag and discovered a pair of clean underwear hidden beneath it. Quickly, I shed the jeans, donned the panties, and pulled the jeans back on. Much better.

When I hit the kitchen, I wasn’t looking my professional best but it would do for a day in the office. Luckily, I didn’t have to be in court all week. I scanned the bus schedule for the North Side and realized I was doing well on time.

I stopped at the small coffee shop near Jake’s place and grabbed a muffin and a black coffee, and made it to the bus stop just as my bus was pulling up. After scoring a good seat by myself, I tucked my bag under my feet and rested my shoulder against the window as I watched the North Shore breeze by as we headed to town.

Anxiety tightened my belly as I thought back to our conversation last night. I’d asked Jake what we were and he didn’t know, but it didn’t seem like he felt we were a one-and-done thing. So, what were we?

I yanked the cord for the bus to stop a few stops before the county building, needing the walk and the fresh air to regain my lawyerly confidence. There was no way I could ever show weakness in my job. The prosecutors would eat me alive, and my clients would run for the hills.

Wait! Isn’t that exactly what my current client has done?

As soon as I arrived at my office, I trekked to Barry’s and walked in without knocking.

“Maybe it’s my fault,” I blurted without a hello. “You know I never wanted to be a part of this team. Maybe Cameron sensed that? And I should’ve listened when he demanded he didn’t do it.”

“Aly, don’t be ridiculous. Sit down.” Barry pointed to the chair.

I plopped down and rested my head in my hands. “Barry, you remember the guy who beat up Cameron? The one I let out of jail?”

Barry leaned back in his chair, frowning. “Cameron wasn’t going to press charges. You had no choice.”

I looked away, unable to meet his gaze. “I know, but he and I have become involved.”

“What?” His eyes widened.

“Yes.”

“That’s so unlike you, Aly.”

“Yes, I know, but I can’t second-guess my decision right now. He must’ve seen us together because who ever sent me a text mentioned the dog. Someone’s watching me.”

“Who? Cameron?” Barry leaned forward.

“Maybe? It seems like the only logical choice.”

Just then, my phone buzzed with a text.

UNKNOWN NUMBER : I didn’t do it. I’m an ass but it wasn’t me, so fix this.

My hand shook as I read the message for a second time and passed my phone to Barry.

His expression hardened as he scanned the text, then he returned the phone to me. “We’ve got to find him. Text him back and tell him to turn himself in and tell us his story in person. While you’re doing that, I’ll contact the police and have them ping his phone to see if we can get a location.”

My heart raced as the ramification of all the lines I’d crossed became clear. I’d willfully broken the rules with my relationship with Jake, and that bad decision was coming back to haunt me with a vengeance.

“It’s going to be okay,” Barry assured me. “I’m on this. We’re going to bring him back in and hear—really hear—what he has to say about all the pictures in his apartment. If he didn’t do the crimes, only hung the pics of them on his walls like some sort of sick tribute, someone close to him did. And maybe he knows who that is.”

In a daze, I shook my head and stood, then walked back to my office. In the dark comfort of my tiny workspace, I messaged the unidentified caller back, hoping it was Cameron, and then left for police headquarters to file a report.

My phone buzzed almost right away, and a shiver ran down my spine. Was it him? I realized I wasn’t thinking of Cameron, and an even colder shudder rocked through me as I pulled out my phone.

How could I get so man-crazy when my career was in shambles and my life was threatened? Was I nuts?

JAKE : Did you make it to work okay? Is it okay for Mav and I to pick you up in town?

I didn’t answer, just shoved my phone back in my bag and went about my business.

Jake

Aly didn’t respond to my text. Was she mad at me? Maybe I shouldn’t have left this morning before she woke up, but I needed to work out. It was part of my survival routine. Without it, I felt too exposed and raw; I was a ticking time bomb without the release.

Fuck! I slammed my hand into my desk. I’d never done this relationship thing before, and now I knew why. Because it sucked. Sucked big hairy balls.

My phone rang and I snatched it off the desk, hoping it was Aly. No such luck.

“Hey,” I said after swiping my finger over the screen.

“What’s happening in the North Hills?” Lane asked.

“All good. On track now and set to open in the fall. I’m looking at an October grand opening.”

“Good. Glad Jax is working out. What’s new with you?”

“The big dogs from the baseball team are working out at my place. After two sessions, they love it. Want to put in some of my equipment recs in the stadium and find them some shit to travel with.”

“Good, that’s all good. And the girl?”

I sighed. “I’m pretty sure I messed it up. How ’bout Bess? By the way, why the fuck do you keep fading in and out?” I stood and paced, kicking at the foot of my desk in frustration.

“I’m in France with shit service. Bess is good; she stayed back home. May from the hotel is helping her with Maddy. James went back to Florida for a few weeks, thank fuck. God, I love the little gay Napoleon, but he needs to know he doesn’t run my house.”

“He does, Lane. Bess lives and breathes for him.”

“Yeah, I fucking know. I got all these frou-frou decorations everywhere. Now, how the hell did you screw up with this girl?”

I sat back down and propped my feet up on my desk, holding the phone between my neck and ear. I’d just started to tell him what happened when a very unwelcome visitor burst into my office.

“You know what, Lane? I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later.” Not waiting for a response, I slammed my phone facedown on the desk and stood, thoroughly pissed off. “Camper? What the hell do you want?”

“Jake.” She doubled over in front of my desk, red-faced and gasping as tears slid down her cheeks.

“What’s wrong?” This was totally unlike her. Camper might be a lot of things, but she wasn’t a crier. I came around the desk and ran my hand down her back in smooth strokes. “Camper, why the hell are you crying?”

I gathered her in my arms, hoping like hell this wasn’t a ploy to get me back in bed. More drama from her was the last thing I needed.

Camper clung to me, her cries coming out in raspy gasps, but she didn’t respond.

“Camper?” I shook her. “Snap out of it. Talk to me!”

Finally she looked up at me, hiccupping her words through her tears. “I came out of my apartment this morning and there was this chick waiting by my car. Tall, skinny, blond, and blue-eyed with some weird accent. She kept muttering something about how I slept with her man.”

“Did you call the police?”

She shook her head. “No, she had this huge knife and was waving it all over the place. She kept saying in broken English, ‘You tainted him, diseased him.’ I don’t even know what she was talking about. Then she took the knife and stabbed all my tires and used it to scratch all over my car door. I couldn’t run or do anything because she had this young guy, maybe only eighteen, holding me back.”