Page 111 of Penalty to the Heart

Chapter 21

Roxanne

I’m still tossing and turning in bed when I hear a loud bang at my door.

At first, I thought it must just be the wind from the violent storm brewing outside, but when I hear it again, I decide the cautious thing to do is to at least go downstairs and check it out. But not before I grab my trusty baseball bat that I keep strategically placed beside my bed.

A single woman living on her own can’t be too careful.

Though I’m sure it’s nothing.

It’s most likely just my sleep deprivation playing tricks on me.

Ever since Caleb told me he had feelings for me, I haven’t been able to sleep more than a couple of hours—at best.

But that was three days ago.

Three excruciating long days and nights without any word from him.

When you’re ready to talk and admit to yourself that what I’m feeling isn’t one-sided, you know where to find me.

Those had been his last words to me at Rex’s farewell party. And to my chagrin, they have been playing in a vicious loop inside my head ever since that night.

Do I have feelings for him?

Of course I do.

But in no shape or form are they of a romantic nature.

They’re ones of concern and empathy for his plight, just like any other therapist would have for their patient.

Nothing more.

And for Caleb to suggest otherwise is not only preposterous but a real threat to my livelihood.

What if someone heard what he said to me that night?

Or even saw us out on the veranda in such a compromising position?

That’s the only reason why his words have been keeping me up at night.

It has nothing to do with the fact that I yearn to see his face again… hear his voice call out that stupid little nickname… nothing at all.

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

I hear the frantic knocking at my door again, the sound reverberating through my quiet brownstone.

“Okay! Okay! I’m coming!” I yell, both frustrated by the thoughts swirling in my head and annoyed by the unexpected visitor who decided to show up at my door in the dead of night.

With my bat gripped firmly in my hand, I cautiously swing open the front door, fully prepared to confront whoever is on the other side and send them on their way.

But to my alarm, I am met by a soaked Caleb standing on my doorstep, his hands clutching the sides of the doorframe and his head hanging low.

What are you doing here?

---