Page 240 of Unexpected Hero

As I turn down the street leading to my house, I have the voice assistant send individual texts to them both, just for a quick check-in.

By the time I pull into my driveway, they’ve both responded that everything is good.

So it’s not them.

It’s my Lettie. Something is wrong.

She’s taking tonight to figure out how to end it with me. I know it.

I fucked up one too many times. The Plan B was the last straw.

When I walk in the front door, I drop my bag by the door and fire up my laptop with zero hesitation.

What’s one more invasion of her privacy?

After verifying her vehicle and the GPS tags I put on various personal items are still at her residence, I’m left with two options. Check the Redleg home security cameras I installed or access her cell. That latter feels more invasive.

Before crossing that fucking line I’ve resisted for months, I check my phone one last time, longing to see a message from her that’ll yank me away from the ledge.

Nothing.

I lurch to my feet and pace the living room while a war wages inside my mind.

My eyes linger on the couch. The same couch where we were so desperate for each other we forgot to put on a condom. The same couch where she sat the night before while I knelt at her feet, frantic to show her how important she is to me.

And I know I’ve already lost her.

Taking a seat, I log into the Redleg system and pull up the cameras in the living room and foyer of Freya’s place.

No Lettie. No Freya.

Where the fuck are they?

My neck stiffens, muscles straining and sending tension throughout my shoulders. The hairs on my forearms stand on end.

I fucking knew something was wrong.

I’m all in now. Finding her is a physical need.

After a half dozen clicks, I’ve tracked Lettie’s phone to a restaurant on the other side of town.

My mouth feels like it’s been filled with cotton. I chug a whole bottle of water while accessing the microphone and camera on her phone.

By the time the audio and visual come through my laptop, I’ve chewed my thumbnail down to the nub.

I can’t see anything through the camera lens besides a dark haze. It’s probably in her purse.

The sounds of talking and laughing are muffled, making them hard to distinguish. Female voices, I think. I plug in my headphones and crank the volume. Yeah, those are females.

A dusting of relief coats the inside of my chest, although it’s too thin to be of any comfort.

With the phone buried in her bag, I only pick out a few phrases here and there. Not sure who is talking. Hell, I can’t even be sure Lettie is one of the voices.

Frustration begins to overtake the turmoil and dread coursing through my veins. But then Lettie’s angelic voice and enchanting laugh sails through the speakers,firing into my heart with the precision of a sharpshooter.

An audible sigh escapes me as I flop deeper into the couch.

No clue how or why I convinced myself she was in danger. And if she were about to break up with me, would she be out laughing with her friends?

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