Page 34 of Roots of the Wicked

I stifled a laugh. “Okay, I’ve done some digging, but I may not want you knowing personal things about the man I might be interested in. For now, how about I give you his initials. CT.”

A funny memory popped into my head. “Remember what you did to that boy Tony for dumping me at that dance when I’d been the one with the attitude?”

“He deserved it. You don’t leave your date, my daughter, stranded without a ride.”

“Dad, you had his car crushed into the size of a packing box and left it sitting in his driveway with a big red ribbon on it.”

Our shared laughter livened up the phone lines. My father was the friendliest most caring person I knew, but if you crossed him or me, there was no telling what type of imaginative revenge plot he’d unleash.

“I’ll take CT’s initials for now, but I would like to hear more about him soon. You sound excited about him.”

“I’m not excited. He’s just not that bad, and kind of gets my ways.”

“Umm-hum,” he hummed into the phone teasingly. If my father could tell over the phone I was excited about Chase, did it mean I was unconsciously giving off the vibes?

“Dad, I know you can’t tell me where you are, but are you at least safe?”

My father’s investigative and undercover skills usually had him working secret missions he was often unable to speak about over the phone lines.

“I’m always safe, but I do have to go. I’ll check in with you in a few days.”

“Okay. Love you Dad.”

“Love you too.”

My smile never wavered as I gazed absently at the phone in my hand. Hearing from my father always put me in a good mood.

***

The phone vibrated a second time, disrupting my thoughts. This time the number that flashed, was one I know well. I swiped to answer the call.

“Jax,” he greeted.

One syllable of the smooth sound of his voice caused my smile to surface before a foreign sensation lulled me into a relaxed state.

“Chase,” I replied, unable to hide the smile in my tone.

“I’m alive if you were concerned about my well-being.” His words dripped sarcasm.

“I’m glad you’re okay. Are you still sore?” I choked down a laugh, as I quaked from the effort.

A long silent pause followed.

“Chase? Are you there?”

“I’m sorry. I thought I heard something. Hang on a second, let me check.”

My grip tightened around my phone as my leg started to jump faster with every ticking second. I had read about him being stalked before, to the point that police had made arrest. The sound of his footsteps eased my tension.

“Okay. I’m back.”

“Is everything okay?” I questioned.

“Yes, I’m okay. Thank you. Every time I hear an unfamiliar noise, I check it out. I woke up with a woman standing over me once, watching me sleep, and I woke to another had snuggled up with me in bed. They’d been clever enough to find a way around security and into this penthouse. Once a man had gotten into my house in the Hamptons and held me at gunpoint for three hours. He had taken gay rumors to heart, had apparently been attempting to date me, but had never been able to reach me by conventional means.”

“That’s some scary shit. I don’t envy your life.”

“Sometimes it can be a bit overwhelming, but I’ve witnessed so much over the years that not much shocks me anymore. Anyway, back to me being left and sore.”

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