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I’d taken the selfie, and during our relationship, it had become the home screen of his phone. I didn’t know he’d printed it or that it lived in his wallet, but it was a picture that should have been tossed when I broke up with him.
After a full year, it was still there.
To me, a scar.
To him, a possession.
Something he’d never let go of.
Someone he’d never stop fighting for.
When I opened my mouth, I tasted the saltiness.
The fear.
The promise, which I voiced to Brady in the quietest whisper. “He won’t ever stop.”
THIRTY-ONE
Brady
What Lily didn’t know was that once David had texted me the photos of her hotel room in Charleston, proving that he’d somehow broken in, that wasn’t the last time I heard from him.
It was only the beginning.
The motherfucker was now messaging me daily.
Sure, I was goading him. Responding. Letting him know that I wasn’t going to tolerate his goddamn nonsense. But what I was learning from our exchanges was that it didn’t matter what I wrote back. He was going to do whatever he wanted, and that had started long before the Charleston incident.
But my question was, where would it go from here?
Me
She’s not yours. She’s mine. How does that feel? That you lost her. That she’ll never be with you again. Is that sinking in yet? Does it fucking kill you?
For the record, going into her hotel room will be the last time you ever get that close to her. Do it again, and you’re dead.
David
You’re a funny man, Brady. You think you have me pinned down. You’re not even close.
Would he eventually get Lily’s number? He hadn’t, or I would know since she’d promised she would tell me.
My number was much easier to find. All it would take was a solid internet search, where the mobile number of every Cole and Spade executive was listed somewhere. One day, I would only use this phone for business matters, but I hadn’t bothered getting a personal line yet.
Even though he hadn’t gotten access to her cell, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t start showing up at my house. Or the restaurants we ate it. Or the locations we flew to.
When it came to him, was anything off-limits?
Because what I’d learned was that he’d walked right through the lobby of the Charleston Cole and Spade Hotel and not a single person who worked for me in that location stopped him. Although the entire staff had been tipped off that he could show up—something I did whenever Lily traveled overnight with the Daltons—and the security team at that hotel had been told to use our software that would detect disguises. But when David sauntered through the lobby, the security team was outside on the back patio, dealing with a drunk, disgruntled guest who had been making a scene and yelling at some of our other guests. Therefore, security wasn’t viewing the feed, and that window became the perfect opportunity for David to slip in, unnoticed.
Had he set that up purposefully?
Fuck, I didn’t know.
Nor did I know how he’d gotten a key and entered Lily’s room. But the feed, once it was reviewed, showed a key in his hand and him waving it in front of the reader at her door. He’d been in her room for a total of ten minutes before he took the stairs to the lobby and walked out the same way he’d come in.
David
