Running Back to You (The Running Series, #1) (39 page)

Since Adam will be going into the office later on my behalf, the boys
start talking shop.  It seems like the perfect opportunity for me to slip out
onto the deck and get a little sun.

It’s peaceful here.  The early morning fishermen and beach joggers have
all left and gone home.  Most of Evan’s neighbors don’t live here full time,
creating a quiet solitude.  I sit with my second cup of coffee and take in the
sight of seagulls
peacefully chirping as they soar overhead, singing and searching for food.

The salty air blowing on my face feels wet and cool as it
caresses my skin.  Looking out, I see nothing but the deep blue sea, stretching
far and wide. I completely understand what drew Evan to buy this home.  Sitting
here surrounded by such grandeur makes all things seem possible.

I glance down at my phone and for the first time in nearly
twenty-four hours, I turn it back on.  Immediately, it lights up with dozens of
missed messages and calls, most of which are from Reese and Sara. 

Despite the early hour, I take my chances and call Reese. 
“Jette, I’m so glad you called.  I’d ask you what’s new, but I already know the
answer.”  It doesn’t sound like I woke her.

“I got all your texts, so I guess you saw some of the coverage. 
Tell me the truth.  What kind of impression did you get of Evan after
everything you saw and heard?”  I completely trust Adam, but I’d really like to
get the opinion of someone fairly removed from the situation.

“You want my opinion?” Reese asks.

“I really do.”

“Well, I’ve always thought he was hot.  Hell, every woman
on Earth thinks that.  But after yesterday, he has been elevated to the status
of demigod.  He was protecting your honor and safety.  Then, the two of you are
seen out, holding hands and canoodling.  You both look like you’re madly in
love.”

“You can tell?”

“Oh, yeah!  You are one lucky girl, Jette.”

“I can’t wait for you to meet him.  Any chance you could
make a trip to New Jersey soon?”

“I don’t know, Jette.  I just started my new job.  I don’t
get many days off yet.  Maybe you guys could take trip to Wisconsin.  Do you
know if the Sentinels are playing Green Bay this year?”

“I honestly have no idea.  When I find out, let’s make
plans.  Promise?”

“Deal.”

F
or the first time in days, I drive my car alone to my house so I can get
changed and check on things at home.  Adam gave me the alarm code so I can let
myself in. 

The moment I walk in, I’m welcomed home by my dog.  I drop the overnight
bags in my hand and give her a proper greeting.  It’s great to spend time with Maddy
after all these days.  I take her outside and toss her a Frisbee for a while. 
She’s full of energy and I didn’t realize how much I missed her.

It’s nice to be home.  Walking around and straightening up, I collect the
tulips and hyacinths that Evan sent me on Friday and they’re starting to die. 
Besides, I have a gorgeous bouquet of red roses to take their place.  Looking
at my beautiful flowers from my thoughtful boyfriend makes my heart sing.

I start to text my friends to see who’s available to go out tonight.  I compose
a group message to Emmy, Derek, Marcus and Auggie. 

Not surprising, Emmy is the first to respond.

The next text is from Auggie.

Marcus replies for both him and Camilla.

Eventually, I get a response from Derek, too.

Amazing!  I’m so excited.  All my friends will be going out to celebrate
with us tonight.  This day just keeps getting better and better.

I’m blasting my iPod playlist and enjoying some new Fall Out Boy when my
music is interrupted by an incoming call.  Hoping it’s Evan, I rush over to
answer it.

“I’m calling about your ad on Craigslist.  Are you still looking to have
some fun tonight?” The voice on the phone sounds incredibly creepy with a
fairly severe speech impediment. 

“What the hell are you talking about?  I didn’t place a fucking ad on
Craigslist.  Who is this?”  Oh my God!

“Call me if you change your mind,” he says. 

“Don’t ever call me again,” I shout at him, and abruptly end the call.

I don’t even have time to consider the meaning of that call when another
one follows in the same context.  This man’s name is Hector and he wants me to
meet him at the diner for a quickie.  I have a few choice words for Hector
before I end his call.

My phone doesn’t stop for the next hour with incoming calls and texts. 
Men are sending me pictures of their junk and invitations to hook up all over
town.  I have to turn my phone completely off to stop the incessant calls.

I grab my laptop and pull up Craigslist.  It takes me less than five
minutes to find the ad with my phone number on it.  As I’m reading it, I cannot
believe what I’m reading.

My phone number is listed, but a few of the numbers are spelled out with
words. There’s a picture of some random girl’s cleavage attached to the ad. 
Holy shit! 

I can’t hear anything except my own heartbeat thumping in my ears.  This
is almost too much.  What did I do to deserve this?  Why me?  Who could hate me
this much that they want to turn my life upside down?  Is it even
my
life
anymore?

In all my life, I’ve never been a victim and I’m not about to start now. 
I refuse to call Evan so he can run over and hold my hand and tell me what to
do.  I need to get into action mode.  This is a problem, and like all problems,
there is a solution to be found. I will not allow my life to be controlled by
some sick and twisted asshole.  Whoever this is, he’s starting to get sloppy
and make mistakes.  He’s leaving a trail and I intend to use all the resources
available to me to find him.

I waste no time in following the guidelines and reporting the ad as
harassment and abuse to Craigslist.  I put 911 in the subject line, hoping it
will get immediate attention.  It doesn’t say how long it takes to remove
abusive ads.  All personal postings expire after seven days, so I know that
even if they don’t respond immediately, the longest I’ll have to wait is one
week.

Now I have to find a way to stop the unwanted calls from getting
through.  A simple Internet search returns with information on the Do Not
Disturb settings for my iPhone.  When activated, it only allows calls from my
Favorites list to ring through.  It’s perfect.  I add all my close friends and
immediate family to my favorites and it works.  No more unwanted calls or
texts.  This small conquest is giving me the sense of control that I so
desperately need right now.

My next step is to call Adam.  If he can track e-mail hackers, maybe he
can have this online ad tracked, too.

He answers on the second ring, “Hey, Jette.  What’s up?”  I meticulously
explain the problem, ask him to help, and he’s all too happy to oblige.  Adam
encourages me to call the police and make a report.  It may help later on if we
document the incidents now. 

I know he’s right, so I call the police station looking for Officer Harper. 
He’s not available, but the dispatcher takes my information and promises to
pass along my message.  He suggests I make copies of everything and drop it off
at the police station.  He gives me his name and assures me that he will make
sure everything gets to Officer Harper who will prepare a report and call me
when it’s ready to be signed, probably early tomorrow.

When Evan arrives to take me job-hunting, I ask him to join me in the
kitchen.  He sits down at the island, and I open up my laptop, quickly pulling
up the online ad for him.  I want him to know that I can handle myself and that
I’m done running and hiding.

As he reads it, I can see his anger building.  “Juliette, if I
ever
find
out who’s behind this, I swear to God, I’ll kill him.”  Evan gets up and begins
to feverishly walk around the house, unable to find an outlet for his anger.

“Let the police do their job, baby.  Take me to the police station to
drop off copies of all this crap, okay?”  I show Evan a folder that contains copies
of the ad and the letter of complaint I sent to Craigslist, as well as a copy
of the police report from last week.

“Juliette, did you call the police already?  Do you mean to tell me this
isn’t going to become a fight?”  He’s shocked.  I like the fact that I can
still surprise him.

“No fighting today, baby.  I called the police, filled out a complaint
with Craigslist, and forwarded all the information to Adam.  He’s already got
his people looking into it for us.  Aren’t you proud of me?”  He should be
impressed, I am.

He sweeps me into his arms, brushes the hair off my face, and whispers in
my ear, “I love you so much.  Thank you.”

Paint the Town
Red

A
fter running our errands by filling out a few job applications and
delivering paperwork to the police station, Evan drops me back off at home to
get ready for our night out.  The DND setting on my phone is working
perfectly.  Now, it only rings with welcomed calls.  Texts still come through,
but at least they are silent and I’m not constantly reminded of this dreadful
situation.

I have a new routine as I enter my house.  First, I secure the front and
back doors.  Once I am certain the doors are safely locked, I check the
windows.  After scanning the rooms for any signs of trouble, I can relax.  I
accept this new reality, knowing that this, like all undesirable situations, is
only temporary.

I haven’t had much alone time lately, and I’m glad to have it now. 
Dinner’s not until seven and that leaves me plenty of time.  I grab my iPod to
keep me company while I shower.  The first song to come on is the Script’s
“Hall of Fame”. 

Tonight’s a special night, so I decide to spend a little extra time
fussing.  I pull out a curling wand from the bottom drawer and opt to give
myself some loose ringlets and curls.

The last time Emmy and I went shopping, I bought an ivory asymmetric
one-shoulder top at Victoria’s Secret that I could pair perfectly with my black
mini skirt.  The top is flirty and flowy and the crepe fabric feels amazing
against my skin.  All that’s left to do is strap on some heels, throw on a few
accessories and head over to Evan’s.

It’s a short drive to Evan’s house.  When I arrive, he’s got his bare
feet propped up on the coffee table with an open playbook in his lap.  He
didn’t shave today and the resulting sexy stubble makes me hungry for his
attention.