Page 120 of His To Erase
Frank : Bad day? Or did something happen?
I chew the inside of my cheek, while my fingers hover over the screen. I should tell him. Maybe he’ll say something useful. He seems like the kinda guy who might actually do something about it, if I needed him to.
Fuck, I don’t know.
I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing, or who the hell is messing with me, or how deep this rabbit hole goes—only that it’s starting to feel like I’ve stepped into something I can’t charm or claw my way out of.
Frank : I’ll call you in five. Don’t go anywhere.
I blink back the sting in my eyes and set the phone down carefully on the table like it’s glass and wait. Five minutes stretch into seven. That turns into twenty and I start to wonder if he forgot, or maybe I imagined the concern. Then the screen lights up with an incoming call, I answer on the first ring.
“Hey,” I say, barely above a whisper.
“Hi, sweetheart.”
He says it like I’m the only thing he wants to hear today, but he always turns on the charm when he’s talking to me.
“I’m sorry I made you wait,” he adds. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I mean, no, but yeah. I’m fine.”
“Right.” I can hear the smile in his voice. “Can you tell me what happened?”
I sigh.Well, here goes nothing.“I just got sent a photo, but I don’t remember it being taken.”
His voice drops. “Oh, that’s it? Do you want me to look into it?”
I blink. “Do you know how to do something like that?”
“Ani.” There’s something sharper under his tone now. “I’d do a hell of a lot more than that if someone’s fucking with you. Just send me the photo.”
The silence stretches. And then he quietly says, “I’ve got you.”
Just when I wasn’t sure if I was about to fall or jump, my throat tightens, but I don’t say anything for a second.
“It’s not a big deal,” I murmur.
“I’ll look into it.”
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. My eyes are still locked on the far wall, hoping it will keep me from unraveling.
“I’ll be there at six,” he says, calmly. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”
“Okay.”
There’s a beat of silence that’s just long enough for the air to tighten and my pulse to pick up again.
“Do you trust me?” he asks.
The question cuts a little deeper than I expect it to.
I don’t know. Do I?
“I think…”
That’s all I can give him right now, and maybe it’s more than I should.
“That’s a start.”
