Page 54 of Off Limits (Alpha Billionaire)

I was under a bright spotlight, frozen in space with relief. It was all I could do to shake my head and continue to cry. I could barely speak. “No, I’m lost.”

The police officer got out of the car. He held a strong flashlight on me. I couldn’t really see him. “What’s going on here?”

Words and concepts of what I had just been through left me. I cried. I pointed up the road, and then down at my feet. It wasn’t until he shined his flashlight on my feet and stifled an expletive that I looked. My guts roiled, and I felt bile burn the back of my throat.

“Good God, woman, how long have you been walking?”

“I don’t know. My phone battery died. I don’t know where I am. How did you find me?”

“Some kids called in, said there was a crazy person walking in the middle of the road. Do you have someone you can call?” he asked.

I started to nod but then shook my head. “I didn’t have a signal before it died.” I showed him my dead phone.

He took the phone from me. “Let’s get you taken care of. What’s your name?”

Somehow, those words brought me back to reality. I was able to tell him my name, where I was from, and a variation of the truth.My ex-boyfriend and my current employer were fighting. I left with the ex thinking it would save my job. He dumped me out here.

“You need medical assistance. Can you make it to the car? I’m going take you in.”

“Am I being arrested?” My addled brain couldn’t fathom why the police would take me in or why he kept my phone.

“No, but there isn’t a twenty-four-hour clinic around here. Someone at the station can help you get your feet cleaned up while your phone charges, and you can call someone to come pick you up,” he explained.

“Oh, thank you.” The next few steps were so painful, I almost blacked out. I rode in the back of the cop car, curled up on my side, trying not to throw up from the pain in my feet.

By the time we arrived at the station, the officer had plugged my phone into the charger in his car, and they had a wheelchair to help get me inside.

“This has enough power that you should be able to call your boss. Is he going to come pick you up?”

“I hope so,” I admitted as I took the phone and thanked him.

“Maybe don’t get in a car with your ex again, okay?” He looked down at me sternly.

I couldn’t agree more. I held my breath and hit dial on Dylan’s number.

“What!” he barked.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” I hung up the phone. I didn’t know what to do. Why was Dylan mad at me? My heart cracked, and I thought maybe I should have stayed out there, lost in the fields.

My phone rang. It was Dylan. I took a deep breath and answered it, expecting him to yell at me for hanging up on him and for whatever else I had done wrong added to the very long list of wrongdoing I had growing in my head.

“Jessica, why did you hang up on me?” Dylan sounded, I don’t know, off somehow.

“You’re angry with me. I was bothering you,” I said.

“No, sweetheart, no. I’m angry, but not with you. I’ve been frantically trying to find you. Ryan refuses to tell me anything. Are you safe? Where are you?”

“I’m in a police station in Soledad.”

“Soledad? How the hell did you get there? Never mind. I’m on my way. Are you okay?”

“I will be as soon as you get here,” I said. “My phone is about to die again. I have to charge it. Get here soon.”

“I’m in the car. I’m on the way,” he said before my phone cut off again.

I looked up at the officer. “He’s on the way. But it’s going to be a bit. He’s coming from Monterey.”

25

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