Page 87 of Twisted Obsession

“How did you get this number?” I ask instead.

He chuckles.That’smore familiar, and I find myself closing my eyes to savor the sound.

“I’ve got connections, baby girl. You weren’t at your momma’s funeral, so I started asking around.” He makes a noise. “Of course, I expected to see you there. It was a shock to discover you were completely off the grid.”

A raindrop hits my face.

“You didn’t know where I was?”

“No. Care to enlighten me?”

“No.” I laugh. “Because I don’t know.”

Silence.

“I woke up in a hospital with amnesia a few months ago.”

The rain is picking up. I tuck my arms around myself, but I don’t move. I don’t know if I like the rain, or if I want to get drenched. But something about it seems to mirror the turmoil I’m feeling on the inside, and that’s why I don’t get up and stand under the covering by the library door.

“They said you were in the hospital,” he mutters. “Wouldn’t tell me what happened.”

“What happened between you and me?” I ask. “And my mother—”

“Come visit,” he interrupts. “I’ve got maybe thirty seconds left of this call, baby girl, and there are no answers I can give in that time to satisfy your curiosity. Visit me.”

“I don’t know…” The rain is soaking my skin, my hair. I tip my head back and let it wash over me. It’s melodramatic, but I don’t care in the slightest.

He laughs again. “Think it over. You’re on my accepted visitor’s list.”

I suck my lower lip between my teeth for a moment, then release it. “Have I visited you before?”

Pause. Then, “No.”

Why?

“I gotta go. Stone Ridge State Prison, that’s where I am. Think it over.”

I don’t answer. I don’t know if I love him or if I’ll visit him. And after another moment, the line goes dead.

My head hurts.

“Hey.”

I lift my head. Jacob’s jacket is on, his collar popped to protect his neck against the battering rain. He’s so fucking handsome like that, clean-shaven and gruff, his hair no longer messy but pushed straight back and slicked with water, his blue eyes meeting mine with confidence.

And maybe a little bit of an apology.

With sudden longing, I realize I miss my mother.

In my mind, she’d know what to do. She’d know what tosay. Guidance to steer me right when it comes to Jacob Rhodes, and life, and everything else. In my imagination, we were close. And her death was fueled by a broken heart at my disappearance.

“True or false.” I squint up at him. “We’ve done that before. In public.”

He lifts one shoulder. “I went down on you in your office at Crown Point University. Behind your desk, while you sat in your chair wearing a sweet little skirt that I practically ripped shoving it up your thighs.”

I frown.

“I made you grade my paper while I did,” he adds with a smirk. “Is thatpublicenough for you?”