Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 72074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
“I make your stomach flutter?” he says the words so soft, and I want to slap my hand over my mouth.
“No,” I say, trying to cover it up. “I meant to say that your smirk isn’t …” I try to think of the words at this point, any word, and when he laughs, I just glare at him. “Shut up.”
He leans over, and right before he kisses me, he whispers, “Good to know I’m not the only one falling.” My breath hitches as he slips his tongue in with mine. His hands come to my face as he tilts his head and takes the kiss deeper.
“Casey,” I whisper when he finally lets me go, and I want to say that I’m not falling for him, that I can’t fall for him, and he definitely can’t fall for me. But that would be crazy. It would be insane, it would be the phone ringing that makes my thoughts go out the window.
“Hello?” he says, and Derek’s voice fills the truck.
“Did you get far?” he asks, and it sounds like he’s out of breath.
“We are in the parking garage,” Casey says, and I look over at him.
“Her phone was a hot target,” he says, and Casey looks at me. “It’s got tracking; it’s got everything that a stalker would put it in.”
“Did you know?” I just look at him shocked.
“How would I know that I have a tracker in my phone?” I shriek out. “Who would put a tracker on my phone?”
“I’m going to go out on a limb right now and say Dominic,” Derek says, and then Casey punches the steering wheel.
“I should have known,” he says, looking at me. “I was.” He shakes his head. “What else did you find?”
“The hot spot was being tracked to someone else. I’m in the middle of dissecting it,” he says. “I’ll let you know what else I find. But, Casey, if he put one …”
“I know,” Casey says. “Email me whatever you got.”
“What does all this mean?” I say almost in a whisper when he hangs up the phone.
“It means that he put a tracker on your phone so he knew where you were every single second,” he says and then looks down. “He also knew what you were texting and when you were texting. I will know more when I read the report.”
“How could he?” I say, my head spinning. “When?” I ask myself the questions that I’m sure Casey is wondering also. “I don’t understand.” I will not cry, I tell myself. He has taken more tears from you than he deserves, I tell myself. “I was so stupid,” I whisper as Casey takes us to the hotel, and the whole time, I wonder what else Dominic is going to do to me.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Casey
I pull out of the parking garage and look over at Olivia who has been silent ever since Derek told us that her phone was being tracked. It’s almost as if she gave up in defeat, right after I told her I was falling for her. I shake my head. Maybe it’s a sign to let me know that it will not and can never happen. We are like oil and water.
Meanwhile, I’m the one who overreacted when I punched the steering wheel, and to be honest, I’ve barely kept my anger in check ever since someone broke into my house and trashed her room. I know that Derek has someone over there right now cleaning it up and putting in the new system that hasn’t even been out yet. I also know that he’s running facial recognitions on the guy’s face even though all we see are his eyes.
“Where did you want to go shopping?” I look over and try to pull her out of her head. “We can either go now, or we can check into the hotel.”
She looks over at me and asks, “Why?”
I look at her and then back at the road. “Why do you want to go shopping?” Laughing, I turn back to her. “I have no idea. You tell me.”
“No.” She shakes her head. “Not that. Why put a tracker on my phone?”
I try to answer her question, but in all honesty, I have no idea what his motive behind it was. “I have no idea. Maybe he was scared of losing you.”
“Losing me?” She puts her head back now and laughs. “Now that I think of it, he didn’t even give a shit.” I try to say something, but she just continues. “He was just like everyone else and liked having me on his arm. I mean, sure at first, he brought out all the charm. Brought me to Italy for pizza on a Friday night.” Her voice is getting higher and higher. “Who does that? I didn’t even like pizza. I like pasta.” I try not to laugh, and she looks at me. “I mean, not anymore. Now, I like everything deep-fried and with butter.”