Page 205 of My Ruthless Neighbor

Their behavior is understandable. I deserve it. But I’m dying with worry. I need to know if Summer is okay. But no one is ready to talk to me.

The terror that rips through me at the thought of anything happening to her doesn’t let me function properly. I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. I can’t fucking work.

Where is she? Is she alone out there? Is she safe? These kind of questions are driving me crazy.

I am the reason behind her not coming back to her apartment and I’ll happily carry the blame and the hate from everyone as long as someone tells me that she’s okay.

Picking up my phone, I call Chad to summon Hannah to my office.

Five minutes later, Hannah is knocking at my door before stepping inside.

“You asked for me?” She keeps standing. So I get up and walk around until I am standing in front of my desk.

“Where is she?”

“Who?”

“You know who.” I thrust my twitching hands in my pockets.

“I do?” She asks with a blank face.

My jaw locks. “Where is Summer?”

“I don’t think the whereabouts of the agency’s former model is any of your concern.” She sniffs.

When I don’t say anything, she says, “Was that all?”

Hannah is about to turn to leave when I blurt, “Is she okay?”

“I don’t know, Archer. Do you think she would be after what you did?”

I flinch.

She turns on her heels.

And suddenly gruesome images of Summer getting tortured and killed flashes in front of my eyes.

I stagger when she is almost at the door. “Please,” I choke out.

She stops. Then faces me.

“Please, Hannah.” I swallow thickly. “Give me something. Please. I just need to know if she’s safe.”

Her brow’s draw together as she stares at me. Then she walks to me and grasps my bicep. “Yes, Archer. She’s safe.” Hannah says softly.

I release a broken breath and close my eyes, nodding. “Thank you.”

That’s all I wanted to know. She’s safe. That’s all that matters. As long as she is okay, I can bear living without her.

I am tempted to ask her where she is so I can go see her. Even if from afar but I stop myself.

Hannah’s face tells me that she wants to talk but I take a step back. “Thanks again. You may go now.”

A week passes.

The nightmares are getting worse. Because this time, it’s not Amy I see. It’s Summer. I hardly slept for more than couple hours in a week.

And above all, I miss her like crazy. My life is falling apart without her. It’s worse than the week following the morning she confronted me about Amy.

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