Page 6 of Not Ready

“Hey, gorgeous,” Bishop says, appearing on the computer screen. All I can see is from his mouth to his neck, but I really wish I could look into his eyes for a change. “Shit, I messaged you probably twenty times this morning.” He scratches his thick blondish-brown beard.

“I know.” I saw the multitude of messages. They just asked me to touch base with him as soon as I could. “I need your advice on something.”

“I need to tell you something,” he says at the exact same time.

“Wait, what?”

“Are you okay?” He always asks how me and the baby are doing, but something in his tone sets me even further on edge.

“Yeah, but something weird happened this morning,” I admit, going on to tell him what Kate said about Andrew.

Bishop curses under his breath.

“You didn’t cut off your feed last night.” He awkwardly clears his throat. “I may have been watching you sleep. About four in the morning, someone was in your room. It’s why I’ve been trying to get in touch with you. I didn’t want to put it in the messages, in case he came across them.”

“What?” I hiss.

Why didn’t it dawn on me that Andrew could have made it past the living room? Him being in my bedroom is an entirely different level of creepy.

“Shit. I know I should’ve logged off, but you were so peaceful. I’ve been on a job—it wasn’t like I was watching nonstop—but when I took a break, I’d peek in on you.”

“I don’t care about that,” I assure him.

It’s what he pays a fortune for. Maybe it’s naive, but he’s the closest thing I’ve got to a man in my life who I trust.

“So, that was the guy who followed you home from work?” Bishop asks, drawing my attention. “Whoever it was stood around, watching you sleep. At first, I thought it might be someone you know, but I got bad vibes. If I had your info, I would’ve sent the cops to your door.”

“What the hell am I supposed to do?” I whisper, shaking my head. “I think I need to call the police.”

“That’s not a bad plan, but the first thing I need you to do is get out of the apartment. Do it during the daylight hours. Grab whatever you can’t live without. Head to a friend or family member you trust. Do you have somewhere you can go?”

He knows my mom is dead. I never knew my father. I do have a great aunt who lives a few hours away.

Kate is supposed to be my birthing partner, but other than her, I don’t really have anyone.

“Are you with me, gorgeous?”

I’ve got my suspicions that Bishop is a cop or former military. He’s always calm and collected. Then there are the tattoos and scars. He told me once that the one on his shoulder is a bullet wound.

“I’ll find somewhere to go.”

“Get the things you absolutely can’t live without and leave while it’s still daylight.?Promise me?”

“I promise,” I say, but my voice is weird and shaky.

He clearly doesn’t understand the rules of where I live. In my neighborhood, people mind their own business. Day or night, it doesn’t matter. No one would intervene because they all have their own bullshit that they’re busy trying to survive.

“Warn your roommate too. Once you get settled somewhere, video call me, and we’ll go from there. I don’t care if I’m working. If something goes wrong or you see him?—”

“I don’t really know where to go.” I bury my face in my hands. “I guess I could drive to another town and rent a hotel for a few days.”

“No!” he barks, startling the hell out of me. “Grab your phone and take a picture of the screen.”

He holds up a business card, but it’s inverted. I still snatch up my phone, snap a picture, and immediately flip it the right direction.

It says Sebastian Bishop, Personal Security Specialist.

Okay, so he didn’t give me a fake name.

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