The Other Side of Love

Chapter 7

Annabel

    I see Lissa off to the airport and to make her feel better, give her a list of things I want her to take care of during her one-week time off. As I walk back to my car, I realise I've not yet told Julian or Kim I'm not coming back and groan. I'm not looking forward to explaining why to either of them.

    Back in the car, I take Lissa's unfinished chocolate bars and stall as much as I can before dialling Julian's line. He doesn't pick up and I exhale in relief, dropping my phone and resigning to call both him and Kim when I get back to the hotel. I think of how cowardly I'm being and shrug, they are going to blow their sh*ts about me risking myself like this. It's only sane to postpone the explosions till later. The speakers come on a moment later and I smile, John learns quickly. 

    Some minutes later, I'm strolling into the hotel lobby and moving to the reception area. I inform them I'm staying an extra week and that I want a new room on a higher floor. The receptionist calls and checks her computer before informing me my new room is L29 and that my bags will be sent there immediately. I drop my old keys, collect the new ones and stroll to the elevator. 

    I consider what to do for the rest of evening, discarding the idea of going out. I don't want to be around too many people today. Deciding on calling for room service and playing video games, I slide my card into the slot and enter my room. It is larger than the last room but has nearly the same colour code and arrangement. Deciding last minute to take a bath, I toss my gown onto the bed, grab my phone and go on to draw my bath.

    I'm neck deep in suds and feeling better than I have in days when I try Julian's number again.

    "Hey, what's up. I was just gonna give you a call." He says with a smile. He has a towel tossed over his shoulder and he is fairly steaming with sweat. His blond hair is wet and sticks to his forehead and his blue eyes crinkle with his smile. He looks to be strolling from the gym. The smile drops from his face as he peers into his screen. 

    "Are you in a tub? It's what," he glances at his wrist, "way past your flight time buh you can't be here yet."

    "About that..." I begin, trying to think of the best approach to this.

    He stops and leans against a wall. "I'm all ears, Annie."

    "You remember the weirdo that sent me all those letters and flowers right?"

    His eyes narrow. "How could I possibly forget? What about him?"

    "Well, he surfaced again." And I go on to tell him about all of it. When I'm done he looks like he's one second from exploding.

    "So lemme get this straight. He murdered someone, and is threatening you now and you put yourself up as bait for the police? Since when did you go from hating them to loving them?" He asks and I cringe.

    "It's not like that." I look at him, needing him to understand. "This is about Jennifer's killer, Jay. If I could help, how could I live with myself without even trying? I owe it to her, if I hadn't been here the psycho wouldn't have murdered her."

    "Don't you dare blame yourself for this. You are as much a victim as she is. She's dead. You won't be helping her any by following her to the grave." 

    "That won't be happening." I say.

    "You're right it won't. Because I'm booking you a flight for early tomorrow and you're coming back home."

    "Jay don't be unreasonable. I've made my decision. I'm staying here and neither force nor persuasion will make me change my mind. Allow me to be selfless this once."

    "I rather prefer you very very selfish." He scrubs a hand down his face, looking exhausted. "Alright, at least allow me to hire you a bodyguard. If you're going to put yourself in harm's way you should at least have a level of defense."

    I smile, relieved. "You definitely can. Make sure he's above six foot and easy on the eyes." I say with a grin and he rolls his eyes.

    "Yes ma'am." 

    I ask of Josie and he promises to send me videos of her when he gets home. After a few moments, I hang up and exhale. "That went well."

    Reluctantly, I dial Kim's number. It goes nearly as bad as Julian's went. 

    "The only good side of this disaster is the good-looking detective. I'm optimistic about how you guys will turn out." Kim says, after giving me a long lecture on what a bad idea the whole thing is.

    "There is no 'you guys' about this." I say, sounding ridiculously like Lissa. "He's part of the f**king police system."

    "I still don't know why you hate them so much but you can isolate him if it makes you feel better. You hate the entire police but him." She provides helpfully.

    "How neat. But that's not how it works." I say, blowing suds off my fingers.

    She shrugs, adjusting her glasses. All the reading and studying she does has damaged her eyes and she's now short-sighted. And all the convincing in the world won't make her go for laser surgery. "That's just details. Be careful, girl. I will be most upset if anything happens to you."

    "I will be most upset if anything happens to me too."

    After we hang up, I spend a little more time soaking. My mind drifts to the thousands of fans all looking so eager to make me happy. My range of enemies are just mean childish people on the internet criticising my every action online and giving me grief over my choice of dress or whatnot. It is impossible to comb through them and come up with a single person I think is responsible for this. Perhaps, evil is not boldly scrawled across anyone's forehead. The killer could be anyone. A little chilled, and daunted by my promise to help Detective Holloway find this criminal, I climb out of the tub and towel myself dry. Wrapping myself up in a short white robe, I step out of the bathroom and go on to call for room service.

    After my meal arrives, I switch on my TV, arrange a session of Need for Speed and make myself comfortable on the bed for an evening of thrill. 

    I play the game while eating for half an hour before insistent knocking on my door gets my attention. Lowering the volume of the television, I call out an 'I'm coming!' and clamber off the bed. I move to the door and check the peephole, surprised to find Detective Holloway staring back. I open the door and block the entrance with my body.

    "Detective. To what do I owe this honor?" I ask, foregoing inane pleasantries. He looks fresh, like he might have stepped out of the shower himself. He's dressed casually in a white T-shirt and intense blue jeans. My eyes feast on him and I feel the familiar thrill that proximity to him incites in me. The air between us is tense, ripe with promises.

    "Won't you invite me in?" He asks, glancing around the hallway.

    "I think not. You interrupted something." I say, leaning against the door frame.

    "Yeah?" He says, looking over my head and into my room. "I'm surprised the other residents haven't reported you yet. It sounded like an apocalypse in there."

    "And you sound judgemental which is not surprising, considering it seems that is quite a favorite pastime of yours. If you're here to frown disapprovingly down at me, you're doing quite a wonderful job of it." He looks puzzled and I have a sudden urge to cup his face and coo over him. It's adorable the way he doesn't even know his resting face is frowning broodiness. I nearly laugh as I picture his face if he is forced to endure my cooing over him.

    "What's funny?" He asks and I shrug and tap my feet impatiently. "Well, Miss Smith, I've been appointed to keep an eye on you."

    I stare at him. "Keep an eye on me? What am I? The murder suspect?"

    "You're our best lead. He has threatened you so I'm here to make sure he can't carry through with it."

    "So what role exactly are you trying to fill now? Bodyguard? Babysitter? Is that standard job for a homicide detective?" I ask, incredulous.

    "Right now, I imagine I'm leaning towards babysitter." He says and I glare at him. "Look, this doesn't have to be a fight. We already know he's interested in you. He might try to contact you again. Till the forensics and lab results come out, you're our best avenue. And my being here will deter him from anything he has planned for you." 

    "Isn't that going against the whole point of this? You can only catch him if he tries to make contact with me and he will most definitely not be making any contact with you lurking around." I point out.

    "Like it or not, Miss Smith, I'm hanging around." He says.

    I'm getting sick of everyone assuming I cannot take care of myself. I didn't tuck tail and hide during the last six months after he broke into my house. The entire six months was spent getting proficient at self-defense and I'm practically an sss in hiding right now. Disgusted, I throw open the door and march back inside, leaving him to follow or stay behind. 

    "For your information, Detective Holloway," I say, grabbing my empty tray and dumping it on the dining table and plopping myself back on the bed, "I'm already hiring a bodyguard tomorrow so I'll humour this ill-conceived idea of yours just for today."

    I cross my legs and glare up at him. And find him looking at my exposed legs unabashedly.

    "Afraid of something, Miss Smith? You seem in an awful hurry to get rid of me." The heat in his eyes makes my toes curl. My mouth goes dry as I realise the predicament I am in. I have nothing under my robe and I'm stuck with a man that infuriatingly makes all my nerves go haywire with the slightest look. Resisting both the urge to order him right out and the conflicting urge to slide a hand under his shirt just to see his reaction, I lower my eyes and pick up the pad, flicking sightlessly. 

    "Don't flatter yourself. I find you abrasive." I am aware of his every movement as he moves to the refrigerator and pulls out a bottle of whiskey. "Drinking on the job? I hope I won't have to be the shining armor to your stupefied damsel in distress if something comes up."

    He pours a finger and clinks some ice into it. "The shot is for you. You look like you're in need of relaxing."

    "Why, Detective, I do believe you're trying to get me drunk." I say, grinning and fanning myself with hand. He moves towards me in long, stalking movements and I feel a shiver of delight. Something about this man's got me hooked.

    "Who is delusional now?" He asks. He hands me the glass, his fingers brushing mine. Electric heat sizzles through from the point of contact and my body clenches.

    "Touché." I take a sip and he moves to the sofa, grabbing the magazine off the table. Flicking through the magazine once, he give a sigh of disgust and dumps it back. His gaze moves to me, moving to my body distractedly before he forces them to meet mine.

    "Don't sit there staring. You might as well join me," I motion towards the game I was playing. 

    "I'm your bodyguard, not your playdate."

    "Makes no difference to me. You can protect me even better right here." I stand and drop the whiskey. "Turn around, Detective. I want to put something on."

    He arches a brow. "Shy? Didn't think you were the type." Something about his tone challenges me and before I can think about it, I turn around and drop the robe.

    I glance behind me to see he has jerked upright, his gaze fixated on my ass as he scrubs a hand over his mouth and mutters a "Holy s**t!'. With a smirk and an extra jiggle in my steps, I saunter over to my wardrobe and pull on a large T-shirt and shorts.

    I turn back to find him by the vanity, my empty glass clenched in his fist. Feeling oddly thrilled to have won this round,  I ask, "So, are you in?"