Page 117 of Fall to Me
Three beeps sound as he hangs up.
“Carter,thatwas Jaxon. H—How the fuck? Who gave you that number?”
The walls close in around me and taking a breath feels damn near impossible. My hands thread through my hair, tugging hard as the realization of what I’ve done slams into me. I’ve been talking to Jaxon this entire time. Trusting him. He’s beenleading me to believe that he was in Oklahoma, and I’ve been leading him to her.
Fuck!
“This is a good thing.” Ryder points out, crouching down to talk to River. “Carter just ensured that Mr. Martin doesn’t know we’re onto him. That buys us some time. Carter, how did you get the number?”
His words fall on deaf ears as my mind reels. What the fuck was I thinking? I didn’t even vet him. I blindly trusted Brian.
“Carter?” Ryder stands, his hand clamping down on my shoulder and eyes locking with mine. “How did you get the number?”
I look down, finding River looking up at me with teary eyes. Seeing her like this rips me apart. Sliding down the wall, I sit beside her and hang my head. “I um . . . I asked one of the security guards in our building if he knew of someone. He said he didn’t, but that he would ask around. Lee . . . I mean Jaxon called me and said Brian had given him my number. I just thought . . .” I trail off in disbelief.
“The good news is now we’re all a step ahead of him. I’ll pass this on to Detective Matthews. He’ll question Brian and trace the connection. I didn’t get a chance to mention that he followed you here tonight but was turned away at the door. That’s when I felt it was time to go ahead and step in. With the situation escalating, is there somewhere you two can stay?”
“Yes.” River croaks, her voice hoarse.
I pull her into my lap, and she lets out a sob. Taking her face between both hands, I wipe her tears with my thumbs. “I’m so sorry, baby. If I had met him in person, I would’ve known, but we did everything over the phone. I should’ve vetted him. I should’ve?—”
“Shhh.” She places a finger to my lips. “It’s not your fault.”
Shoving his hand into his pocket, and pulling out his cell, Ryder says, “I’m sorry we had to meet under these circumstances. I’ll call the detective when I leave. Do you mind exchanging contact information with me?”
River stands to her feet, and I follow suit, heaving myself off the ground. We exchange numbers with Ryder, then I extend a hand tell him, “Thank you . . . for everything.”
He gives my hand a firm shake, then directs a pointed look at River. “I mean no disrespect by this, Mrs. Graham, but I know how stubborn strong women can be, so this needs to be said: under no circumstances are you to step foot into that building until this case has been wrapped up and we have Mr. Martin in custody. Do you understand?”
“But I need to grab my things?—”
“You can make a list,” I cut in. “I’ll handle it.”
Ryder dips his head, giving a stiff nod. “You two stay safe.”
With that, he slips out of the room.
I drag a hand down my face.
What the actual fuck is going on?
Thirty-Six
River
Sunlight seeps through the crack of the closed curtains. The beaming rays shine directly into my face, waking me up. My eyes flutter open, and I squint against the brightness. Groaning, I cover my head with my pillow and roll over to reach for Carter only to find his side of the bed cold and empty.
I don’t want to move. It doesn’t matter how many hours of sleep I get; pure exhaustion has become a constant state of being. Huffing a sigh, I turn back to the other side and grab my phone off the nightstand. 10:30 am. He really let me sleep in this morning. Probably read in one of his daddy books about pregnancy that plenty of rest is much needed for a pregnant momma.
Sitting up, I sling my heavy limbs over the side of the bed, stretch, then trod down the stairs to the kitchen where I find Aspen standing at the counter, pouring a cup of coffee.
She passes the mug to me with a smile as she says, “Morning, sleepy head. Sorry. It’s decaf. Cal’s not even here and I can practically hear the blades a twirling . . .”
I lift a brow in question, and she elaborates, “He’s being one of those helicopter husbands.”
She pours a cup of coffee for herself, then blows on the steaming liquid before bringing the mug to her lips.
“Oh, I have one of those too,” I say, thinking back to the day we found out I was pregnant. “Carter took a thermometer to my bath water.”
