Call My Name (Fallen Angels MC Book 3) Read Online Free PDF Page B

overwhelm her entirely.
     
    Her car was still at the credit union, and she didn’t want to turn up at Jack and Missy’s looking for clean clothes in the wee hours of the morning. They’d understand, she knew that much, but it was still… a thing you did in college, not in your late twenties. Which meant going back to the house.
     
    It turned her stomach every time she had to do it. She needed to get over this idea that selling the house was weak and just do it; she wasn’t going to live there again. Emily had been quietly pushing her for a while now to join this support group she knew about for women who’d survived all kinds of assaults, but it seemed… unnecessary, somehow? What was she going to do, sit in a circle and bitch about how this crazy asshole had held her hostage and threatened to kill her? How would that help anything? It wouldn’t even make her feel better.
     
    Things just kept reminding her of that day; that was the problem. If she didn’t have to go back to the house, and this asshole of a cop would just go away, then everything would be fine.
     
    Mason had never really told her what happened with Declan. He’d said he didn’t want her to know anything that would make her feel torn. That they were safe, and that she didn’t have to worry about anything anymore. It was totally possible that he’d just convinced Declan to leave town and never come back, along with his VP. Totally possible, and yet completely unlikely.
     
    She’d pointed out that, legally, even suspecting that someone had been murdered obligated her to go to the police. She already knew enough that she’d be in trouble if he was, and so would Jack and Missy. She’d asked him for the full story.
     
    He’d given her that smile, the tight one, and asked her to trust him.
     
    It was easier said than done, about some things.
     
    She could go over to the garage and ask Mason to come to the house with her. But that was just another version of admitting that it was too much for her to handle. That wouldn’t conjure his tight smile; that would bring out the worried one. She hated the worried one. A lot.
     
    So the logical solution was to be turn her underwear inside out and stop off at the mall on the way in to work and buy a new shirt. Clearly. She knew it wasn’t, knew it was the farthest from rational thing she’d done lately, but faced with either spending $30 on a shirt she actually didn’t need at all or going back to that house, it was no choice at all.
     

 
    CHAPTER SEVEN
     
    She took the bus back to downtown, stopped at the mall, found a polo shirt she didn’t hate in the first store she went to, and then walked the few blocks back to the credit union. She was a couple of minutes late, but nothing that would cause anyone to bat an eye.
     
    Jack’s desk was empty, and when she glanced at her phone, she saw a text from him that he’d sent in the wee hours of the morning. Still sick. Hope your night was fantastic. She sent back hope that he would get some sleep and feel better, then settled in to check her email and her schedule for the day.
     
    Through one thing and another, it was close to noon before she opened the center drawer on her desk, the only one that wasn’t kept locked. Normally, all it held were pens, paper clips, staples, and a pad of paper. Today, a bright red folder was placed in the drawer, neatly centered.
     
    Her heart skipped for a moment. None of her co-workers would leave client information in an unlocked drawer—it would be tantamount to writing your own pink slip. But anything non-client related— the usual protocol was to leave it on someone’s desk, and then follow up with an email to make sure it was received.
     
    Before she even opened the folder, she was quite sure that it wasn’t from anyone at work. And she was very, very sure that Detective Mike Randall had somehow gotten into the office and left the folder there for her to find. So she wasn’t surprised at all to open