The Engagement Game (Engaged to a Billionaire) (23 page)

The sound disturbs me again and I put a hand on the counter to steady my shaky legs.
 
My stomach tightens to a knot as I hurriedly flip off the light switch and cautiously put an ear to the wall.
 
I hear a quiet crunching outside.
 
It moves closer and closer and suddenly stops.
 
I bite the corner of my mouth, forcing myself to calm down.
 
You've got to sleep sometime.

The crunching continues, moving closer and closer to the sliding glass door in the kitchen.
 
I tiptoe across the hardwood floor and place a hand on the wall.
 
The noise stops again.
 
An animal.
 
It's just an animal.
 

I slowly take a few steps towards the couch but the rustling of bushes outside is enough to make me insane.
 
I couldn't close my eyes without wondering what the hell was making the leaves in the yard rustle.
 
The wind wasn't that restless.

"Fine," I heave.
 
I walk back to the kitchen and reach my hand to the curtain.
 
It hesitates a little but I force my mind to overcome its childish dilemma.
 
I was hearing things that didn't exist, letting my mind make up ridiculous scenarios.
 
I slowly pull aside the curtain, letting moonlight fill the kitchen.
 
My eyes adjust to the darkness outside and instantly my throat closes up.
 
I see a figuring hovering by Leah's bedroom window.

I let go of the curtain and drop to the floor - my insides jumping.
 
I feel my stomach boil over as my brain fills in the missing pieces.
 
I remember the blade against my back.
 
The way the cold steel dug into my skin and sent a shooting pain up my spine.
 
I hear the crunching noise start again.
 
They were footsteps and the footsteps were closer to me.
 
I burry my head in my hands.
 
He can't hurt you.
 
He can't hurt you.

A finger gently rubs the glass, slowly moving to outside handle.
 
I hear a light jerk as the night stalker attempts to open the sliding glass door.
 
My limbs start to feel numb as I push my mortified behind across the wood floor.
 
A phone.
 
I just needed a phone.
 
That would end this nightmare.
 
I scoot a little closer to my bag.
 
And closer.
 
And closer.

The handle is now being jiggled.
 
The soft scratching and subtle tinkering makes my jaw drop.

I gulp, scooting again as my arms shake.
 
I focus on my bag and nothing else.
 
I set my mind to one specific task - calling the cops.
 
I reach my bag and my hands remain frozen.
 
I hear more light scratching and flail my body at my phone.
 
It falls into my hand, sliding perfectly into my palm.
 
I dial my saving numbers and wait impatiently as the phone rings.
 
The ringing in my ear seems to last for hours until I hear a voice at the other end asking me what my emergency is.

I open my mouth but can barely speak.

"There's someone outside," I force out in a scratchy voice.
 
"He's . . . he's trying to break in."
 
The jingling noise gets louder.
 
"Please.
 
Help."
 
Another loud scratch.

"Your address mam?"
 
Click.

"What?"

"Where are you located?"
 
Click.
 
My brain was fuzzy, hiding obvious details like Leah's address.

"Um . . . 573 Mulberry?"
 
Click.

I hear a hand hit the glass.
 
The noise is loud enough disrupt sleep.
 
As my eyes watch the glass gradually start to move, my brain realizes what's happening.
 
Someone is breaking in.
 
Someone who found pleasure in peeking into the windows of sleeping college girls.
 
A night breeze moves through the room and I instinctively lunge towards foyer.
 
My body rolls around the corner and waits.

The glass door creaks as it slides, letting in a heavy set of footsteps.
 
I cover my mouth as the footsteps pace the kitchen.
 
I can hear my own breathing.
 
The footsteps seem farther and farther away.
 
Inhale.
 
Exhale.
 
I stare down at the phone in my hand the excess light was sure to draw attention to me.
 
Inhale.
 
Exhale.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!

The high pitched scream punctures my skin and reaches right into my pounding heart.
 
My wide eyes are about to pop out of my head as I jump to my feet, a rush of adrenaline pulsing through my veins.
 
I didn't know what I was doing.
 
But I
did
know that if anything happened to Leah while I sat still around the corner I'd never be able to forgive myself.

Time seems to slow down as I round the corner and nearly slip on the shiny kitchen floor.
 
I sprint to Leah's bedroom, my worst fears coming true as I see a glimpse of what lies ahead of me.
 
It was him.
 
Dr. P.
 
He'd found me and he was about to do something terrible to my baby sister.

My organs feel like they're squeezing together all at once.
 
Time continues to move at a sluggish pace as my eyes dart around the kitchen for something useful.
 
Something sharp.
 
My fingers grab the only thing handy.
 
I grip the end of the steak knife, my hand shaking.
 
I burst into the bedroom as Leah lets out another shrill scream.
 
She is being pulled off her bed by her hair.
 
She grabs her scalp, eyes glossy with tears.
 
Her face cringes as he pulls her again, this time more violently.

"STOP!"
 
My shouting catches his attention.
 
He turns to me, his eyes blank and cunning.
 
He wasn't himself.
 
He smirks a smirk that freezes every vertebrae in my back.
 
My hand shakes even more as he takes a step closer to me.
 
I'm reminded of the closet I wanted to forget.
 
The fear returns, paralyzing me.

He takes a few steps and suddenly his hands are at my throat.
 
The tightness sends a burning pain through my body.
 
I can feel the air leaving my lungs.
 
My vision starts to blur.
 
I kick and attempt to shove away his hands.
 
All were useless attempts.

"KAT!
 
NO!
 
DON'T DO THIS!"
 
Leah's screaming pulls me from my daze.
 
I
had
to do something.
 
This couldn't be the end.
 
There was still so much I hadn't said - hadn't done.
 
I see my family.
 
I see my friends.
 
And in that moment my shaky hand lifts on its own.
 
My head and heart knew it
had
to come to this.
 
The only thing I could do.

I plunge the knife into his nearest piece of flesh.
 
It slides into his skin with ease like a needle puncturing tissue.
 
His hands immediately let go.
 
I desperately gulp down air, watching him stumble towards the bedroom door.
 
His hands reach around, trying to grab the knife from his back.
 
He yelps and looks up as the sound of sirens blast through the walls.
 
I grab Leah as he runs back through the sliding glass door and disappears into the backyard.
 
An overwhelming sense of relief overcomes me.

"Are you okay?" I whisper.
 
Leah can hardly speak.
 
Her eyes are fixated on the smears of crimson on her bedroom floor.
 
"Please say something.
 
Tell me you're okay."

"I'm okay," she replies.
 
I see Jenna's frightened face glance inside.

"Jenna," I say to her.
 
"The police are outside.
 
Bring them here."
 
Jenna nods and rushes to the front door.
 
My ability to think returns as I hold Leah's shivering body.
 
"It's okay."
 
Feet clang through the kitchen.
 
"They'll catch him this time."

"Are you sure?" she mumbles, still in a state of shock.

"He's tired, wounded, and not very far."
 
Two policemen enter our room.
 
"Yeah.
 
I'm sure."

Chapter Eighteen

"I can't believe I left you there," Jack whispers.
 
The two of us stand side by side in a quiet chapel.
 
A line of people slowly pass Earl's shiny casket.
 
A wreath of white and yellow tulips sits on top of the closed lid.

"It's over," I reply.
 
"They found him."

"Still."
 
Jack smiles and shakes a few hands.
 
The whole situation was surreal.
 
Earl's casket was in the room but it didn't feel like he was really gone.
 
I half expected to see him lying in his hospital bed when I returned to work.
 
It helped that I was here, standing next Jack.
 
His solemn expression wasn't as depressed as before.

"Forget it," I whisper again.
 
"That's behind us now."
 
I pull my camera from my purse.
 
It had been a long time since I'd taken any pictures.
 
That used to be my way to unwind - strolling through the park capturing the image of leaves falling.
 
I touch the camera and it brings back a sense of satisfaction.
 
"May I?"
 
Jack grins.

I attempt to find an interesting subject through my lens.
 
A woman gently touching a tulip petal.
 
Jack tilting his head in the light.
 
A little boy sitting impatiently on a bench.
 
All brought me different feelings.
 
I snap a few pictures, wondering what type of wedding dress might photograph best.

After a night at the police station, Jack and I decided on an early spring wedding.
 
It would give me enough time to plan and also break the news to my parents.
 
That's if Leah hadn't told them already.
 
But she was planning an impromptu trip to Europe.
 
After that night she'd had some sort of wake up call.

I search for another subject.
 
A woman walks in wearing a tight dress and stilettos.
 
She walks carefully through the room, playing with her bleach blond hair.
 
Oh no.

"Cindy?"
 
I hope the mention of her name doesn't reach Jack's ears.
 
"What are you doing here?"

"Just paying my respects," she replies, looking like she might cry.
 
I didn't buy it.
 
I stare at her cleavage and tan skin.
 
Her eyes dart around the room until they find Jack.
 
"I'm sorry . . . I shouldn't have come."

"Oh," I reply, feeling bad.
 
"It's okay."
 
You're already here.
 
The damage has been done.

"Cindy."
 
To my dismay Jack spots her right away.
 
She was pretty hard to miss.
 
"What the?"

"I'm sorry Jack."
 
She wipes a fake tear from her cheek.
 
"I was in the area and I thought I'd stop by and . . . say goodbye."

"Right," he responds.
 
His solid arms gesture towards the casket.
 
"Well.
 
Go ahead."

"Are you mad?"

"Of course not," Jack answers.
 
"It's the day of my father's funeral and my ex girlfriend shows up.
 
How could I be mad?"

"You
are
mad."
 
Her voice goes quiet as she looks down at her heels.
 
"So sorry for your loss."
 
She bites her lip and turns around.

"Wait."
 
The sound of Jack's voice makes her face gleam.
 
She turns back around in an instant.
 
"
Why
were you in the area?"
 
Cindy smiles as if pleased that Jack was taking an interest.
 
Even if that interest was a bothered one.

"I didn't mention it?"

"Uh no."

"I'm moving back," she smiles.
 
My legs freeze in place.
 
I discreetly look at Jack with a sideways glance.

"Why?" he says again.

"A job opportunity."
 
She tosses her hair.
 
"Anyways . . . be seeing you."
 
The sound of her heels fills the chapel as she leaves.
 
Jack is still standing there fuming.

"She's not going to leave us alone you know," he mutters.

"What was I supposed to do?
 
Throw her out?"

"Yeah," he responds, wide-eyed.
 
"That's exactly what you should've done."

"You're acting like she's moving in next door," I comment.
 
I raise my eyebrows.
 
"She wouldn't do that."

"Don't rule it out."

"Then we'll just have to move," I suggest.
 
I smile, grabbing his hand to lighten the mood.
 
"To Paris."
 
He chuckles and puts his arm around my shoulder.
 
I breathe in his scent, finally feeling like things were going my way.
 
We both stare at the colorful wreath on Earl's casket.
 
"What do you think he would've said?"

"You mean if we'd walked into his room holding hands?"

"Yeah," I say quietly.

"Well," he chuckles.
 
"He would congratulate
you
and tell me not to screw this up."

*          *          *

I watch Sadie's mouth run wild with hundreds of questions.
 
She studies my vacant expression with a hand on her hip.

"You're not very forthcoming with information, are you?"

"What more is there to say?" I ask.
 
"You want a complete diary log of everything I've done the last few days?"

"That would be extremely helpful."
 
She smoothes her red hair and glances at her watch.
 
"I'm just glad you're okay.
 
Why didn't you tell me perv boy was on your tail?"
 
With Dr. Saxten behind bars the news was out.
 
Everyone knew what had happened, but most people kept their heads down.
 
I felt like a sick puppy, getting sympathetic stares and glances from people I didn't know.

"That's not something I could have casually snuck into a conversation," I respond, lowering my voice.
 
"And I already told you.
 
I'd rather not talk about it."

"Alright," she sighs.

"If you need something to obsessive over try this."
 
I hold up my engagement ring.
 
I couldn't stop staring at it.
 
I would purposely walk past the second floor windows more than usual just so I could see the sparkles on the opposite wall.
 
My hand was like a portable chandelier.

"Yeah I almost forgot about that giant thing on your hand."
 
She rolls her eyes.
 
"Not.
 
Have you started planning?"

"Barely," I reply.
 
"Jack has been busy with his apartment project and I've been . . . here."

"You need to get on that girl."
 
She shakes her head.
 
"Time is going to fly by before you know it."
 
I shrug, grabbing a last sip of water.

"Kat Artino," the speakers announce.
 
"Paging Kat Artino."

"Probably another room change," I mumble.
 
"See you at break."
 
I walk quickly through the hallway, looking the other way when I pass Earl's old room.
 
It was still a touchy subject for Jack as I expected it to be for quite some time.
 
My heart still sank every time I thought about the funeral.
 
At least the chapel had been full of smiling visitors all with a story to tell.

The smell of rubbing alcohol fills my nose as I keep my mind focused on each passing white wall.
 
It was the little things that helped me control the freakouts.
 
If I let my mind wander it would take me back to Leah's apartment.
 
The scene would play out second by second and I'd be a paranoid mess.
 
For a while any noise made me jump and I was afraid to go anywhere by myself all week.

I round the corner and immediately my stomach churns.
 
My visitor is sharply dressed.
 
His smile reveals pearly whites when he sees me.
 
I look around, hoping he didn't come with an entourage.
 
My parents were still getting phone calls from local reporters.

"There you are," he casually says.

"I can't talk right now," I blurt out.
 
"I was just paged so . . ."

"I know," he chuckles.
 
"It was me."
 
He lifts his chin like he normally does when he thinks he's just made a clever move.
 
He gazes at me like I'm dressed in a dazzling ball gown instead of boring scrubs.
 
He takes a step closer as if the ring on my finger didn't mean a thing.

"Why?"
 
Did he really have to torture me like this?
 
Every time I saw him I was reminded of Holly, and our screw up of a first official date.
 
Time wasted and time forgotten.
 
The scar was still there, and Rex appearing again just meant he wanted to rip it open.
 
"Did I not make things clear enough for you?"

"You did."
 
He's still smiling.

"Then what do you want?
 
A favor or something?
 
What could possibly do for
you
?"

"You can reconsider."
 
He leans his arm on the counter.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm here to ask if you'll reconsider
our
engagement."
 
His gaze moves down to the diamond on my finger.
 
"I could give you a ring twice that size."

"My hand would be hard to lift."

"I can give you
exactly
what you want."

"So can Jack," I reply.
 
"And he didn't sleep with me best friend."

"And I wish I could fix what happened," he sighs.
 
"But I
can
offer you an apology and a promise that I'll never do anything to hurt ever again."

"That's a pretty bogus promise," I mutter.

"What?"
 
He chuckles.
 
"You don't think I can?"

"Your history is against you," I laugh.
 
He takes a step closer.

"Then brush all that aside," he suggests.
 
"A fresh start.
 
What do you say?"
 
He leans in, letting his spicy cologne fill the room.
 
It reminds me of the night we first met - the time we'd spent together in his gorgeous flat.
 
Rex's life was nothing but luxurious and with him
my
life would be luxurious too.
 
But I was in love with Jack.