Page 33 of My Destiny
“Who’s doing this?” she whispers.
I draw back to meet her eyes. “Doing what?”
She turns her head and points to the floor. I see her phone lying near the cupboard. Letting her go, I walk towards it and pick it up. The screen is cracked, but I can still read what the message says.
I’m watching you, YOU FUCKING BITCH!
I swing around to face her again. “Did someone just send you this?”
She replies with a nod as she wipes the tears from her face with the back of her hand.
“Who?”
“I don’t know. Probably the same person who threw a brick through my window the other night.”
“Someone threw a brick through your window?” I ask, my eyes widening.
“Yes. The word ‘bitch’ was written on it. The police said it could’ve been a case of mistaken identity, but after this…” She shrugs and points to the phone in my hand. I see red.
“Go pack some stuff. You’re not staying here.”
“What? No.”
“Brooke, I’m not leaving you here while some lunatic is throwing bricks through your window, and sending you messages like this.” I hold up the phone to prove my point.
“I can’t just leave.”
“You can and you will. Now go and pack some clothes, or I’ll pack some for you.” She crosses her arms over her chest, but I’m not intimidated one bit. I raise an eyebrow when she opens her mouth to speak again. “I’m dead serious,” I threaten.
I have to suppress my smile when she turns in a huff and storms from the room. Pulling out my phone, I text Chris.
I’m ready.
He replies straight away.
Be there in ten.
Shoving my phone into my pocket, I go in search of Brooke.
After bundling her into the backseat of the limousine—under duress, I might add—I search the perimeter of her house. Either the perpetrator has already fled, or wasn’t even here to begin with. Either way I’m not comfortable leaving her here.
When I climb in beside her, I can feel her body trembling next to mine. Sliding my arm around her, I pull her towards me. “It’s going to be okay,” I say, placing a kiss on her hair. “We’ll get to the bottom of it.”
“I hope so,” she whispers.
“To the penthouse, Mr. Cavanagh?” Chris asks, starting the ignition.
“No, to the police station.” I can’t let this slide. It could be someone trying to frighten or intimidate her, but there’s a chance it’s something more sinister, like Jake, so I won’t rest until this person is caught.
I turn my attention back to Brooke. “Do you have any idea who would do this? Jake?”
She pulls back from me as her eyes meet mine. “He did cross my mind, but I haven’t had any contact with him in eight months. And this doesn’t seem like something he’d do. Wouldn’t he just knock on my door or approach me in the street?”
“I don’t know him as well as you do, but if he’s still taking drugs, who knows what his frame of mind is.”
“Jake doesn’t take drugs,” she scoffs. “He’s always been against them.”
“Well, maybe you didn’t know him as well as you thought you did. When I had his office cleaned out after I fired him, cocaine was found in his drawer.”
