“Where are you, Arabella?”
“I’m... staying at a friend’s house.”
“Which one?”
Which one.
Invisible eyes raked over me, crawling over my skin.
“Which one, Arabella?” He was louder. More insistent.
“P-put my mom on the phone.”
“Tell me!” he roared.
“I’m not telling you shit, Mal!” I burst out. “Not until I hear her voice!”
A thick, weighty silence bore down the other end.
“I will find you, Arabella,” he growled. “It doesn’t matter where you go. You can change your number a thousand times. You can hide behind as many walls. I will always find you.”
Click.
I dialed as I ran, calling for my father, and hearing his surprised hello as I stuck my head in the toilet and vomited.
Chapter Seven
“He spoofed my number, darling. Pretended he was calling from my phone. He’s done this to us before. I’m just so thankful you didn’t give him any information.”
I paced the length of the room, wearing in the tread I’d been working on all night. Sleep wasn’t happening after that phone call.
“Your new sim card is on the way,” Dad chimed in. “It’s scheduled to arrive this afternoon.”
“Changing numbers doesn’t stop him.”
“Belle, listen to me,” Mom said. “Everything is going to be okay. From now on, before I call, I’ll send you a text so that you know it’s me. We’ll come up with a word only we know.”
My lack of sleep was aided by Mom and Dad on the phone with me all night, cycling between raging and reassuring me.
“He said I haven’t been home in days. He was watching me. He could be watching you right now.”
“No one is watching us,” Mom said soothingly. “We have security doing a sweep of the neighborhood as we speak. They’ll interview the neighbors to find out who they’ve seen hanging around or if they hired someone new. In the meantime, I’m more thankful than ever that you’re away, dear. You’re safe there, so just relax and try to have a good time.”
“How can I relax?” I tucked my shaking hands under my arms. “This isn’t an NSA safe house. I’m part of a well-known community event, surrounded by kids snapping selfies and hashtagging Citrine Cove like they get a thousand dollars per Instagram pic. How long is it going to be before he stumbles on the right photobomb?”
“Then you just don’t do whatever that means,” my father replied. “You are safe, Belle, and we will go to any lengths to keep it so.”
“I know you will,” I said. “At least I know that much.”
“He wants to get in your head and you won’t give him the satisfaction,” Mom spoke up. “You have a full day ahead of you. Focus only on what you’re there to do. What are you wearing, darling? Are you dressing in the nice clothes I packed for you?”
I bit back a sigh. Can’t keep a good dame down for long.
“Put on your pearls. They look gorgeous with your green dress.”
“I have to get going. Mrs. Desai invited the girls to a private breakfast on the terrace.”
“All right. Call us if you need anything.”
We said our goodbyes.
Taking a deep breath, I steadied myself, mentally running through everything my parents said to reassure me.
I was getting a new number. Mal didn’t know where I was. Security was hunting for him. Mom and Dad were safe.
The list repeated on a loop as I headed downstairs and veered left instead of right.
The Desais’ private terrace doubled as an oasis. Palm trees planted strategically about lent cool shade to the breakfasters. A stone path led to a small garden with a babbling fountain. Preston, Carter, and Nathan stood next to it, chatting about whatever handsome, rich boys talked about.
Carter spotted me first. His shifted attention alerted the other boys and they looked at me... and smirked.
Each in different ways and for different reasons, but the shit-eating smugness shone like neon lights—the color of my heated cheeks.
“Good morning, Belle.” Rosalie stepped in the path of her son. “I saved you a seat right by my side. Will you join me?”
“Sure. What’s on the menu?” I asked as we weaved through the tables.
“Espresso waffles with a hazelnut chocolate drizzle and a side of eggs and bacon cooked how you like.”
“Goodness, you spoil us.”
She laughed. “I do my best to make your stay comfortable.” Rosalie pulled out my chair. “I’d like to say how happy I am that you’ve embraced what we’re doing here. Carter reiterates that he’s thrilled to marry you. Although, I am confused by the panicked phone call I shared with his mother. She wasn’t aware of his diagnosis.”
My butt popped up without hitting the seat. “On that note, I should make an announcement.”
“Excuse me?”
“Everyone?” I whistled. “Ladies, I have a confession to make and you know the best stuff comes after that sentence.”
The girls quieted. Everyone turned on me.
“Heavens, not again,” Rosalie said. “Belle, I insist—”
“It’s not what you think. I’m staying off the soapbox this morning. Actually, I’m setting the record straight and everyone does need to hear this.”
She studied me. “Fine. But make it quick.”
“All right,” I said, allowing my voice to carry. “About me and Carter. First, there is no me and Carter. We’re not getting married and he’s not dying. He doesn’t have Huntington’s disease.”
Noise broke out around me.
Ivy got to her feet. “But you said that he did. Carter did too.”
“I lied.” I turned on the watching boys. “I also lied about having a son with Nathan and catching chlamydia from Preston.”
“Catching what?” Rosalie sputtered.
“Nor am I carrying the future Desai heir.”
Mrs. Desai sat down hard.
“What the hell?” Ivy shouted.
“It was a test,” I said. “The guys and I cooked up those lies to see out of the gate who was after an easy inheritance or who wanted us—illegitimate children and all. Right, guys?”
The boys shared a look.
Preston was first to say, “Right. Just a little joke.” He winked at me. “Frankly, I’m hurt by how many of you believed it.”
“Test?” Rosalie repeated. I think she was still trying to catch up.
“Before you get too mad,” I said, “remember that this means Carter Knight is healthy and back on the market. And let me tell you, ladies, he’s not discriminating. He’s willing to put a ring on just about anyone. Desperate to in fact.” I mirrored his vanishing smirk. “Grab him while you can.”
Carter stepped back like they were about to stampede. The look on a few girls’ faces said he wasn’t far off.
A cleared throat pulled me up. “Thank you, Belle. We get the gist.” She got to her feet. “Boys, it’s time for you to go, but before you do, let me make it clear that there is no need to test anyone here. No one has been given an invitation that hasn’t been screened. I’m sure I won’t hear of these antics again.”