Dr. Scott had warned her to be prepared for the memories, because they could set off a major panic attack. Over the course of the previous year, she’d been recalling several details: the way the man’s shoes squeaked on the hardwood floor when he rushed up to her, the hatred emanating from him as he raised his hand ready to strike her, the loud knock on the front door, and the overwhelming scent of something sweet and pungent. She couldn’t remember what it was, but he reeked of it, and she remembered she didn’t like it.
Baylee knew as long as her mother’s murder remained unsolved, the nightmares would continue. After all these years, there were no clues, no suspects—nothing. She cringed every time she thought of the killer, wondering how many more women he’d murdered. She needed closure in the worst way, but she’d also been making enormous progress in moving on. She was grateful she’d found Dr. Scott, and credited him for coaxing forth the memories locked away in the recesses of her mind.
By that point, her body had calmed down, and she was all right. The nighttime didn’t appear to be as scary as it had an hour before. But when she lay down again, she tossed and turned. Each time she closed her eyes, the scar on the man’s arm and his light eyes consumed her mind. Sighing, she reached over, turned on the reading lamp, and opened her book. The words danced in front of her, but she couldn’t focus enough on what she was reading. It was so quiet in the room, and Baylee wished she had someone to talk to. She was desperate enough to call Logan, but she knew he would be fast asleep. Claudia would also be asleep, and Baylee didn’t want to wake her up, especially since Claudia was up at five in the morning to workout.
Axe’s smug face flitted across her mind, and she grabbed her phone on impulse to text him. Wait, what the hell am I thinking? When Stan handed out the numbers for Axe, Banger, and Hawk—she couldn’t believe the names of these guys—it was for Baylee and Logan to get ahold of them for business reasons, not to pass the time or flirt.
Oh, well.
Before she could talk herself out of it, she sent him a text.
Baylee: What do you do for fun around here?
She waited a few minutes, looking at the words in her book, but not understanding them.
Axe: Fuck.
She stared at the screen for a few seconds, debating whether she should respond.
Axe: Want me to come over?
Yeah, I do.
Baylee: No. Just wondered. Now I know.
Axe: Now you know.
Baylee: Nite.
Her phone pinged again.
Axe: What’re u wearing?
Baylee knew she should turn off her phone, but for reasons she couldn’t articulate, texting Axe in the middle of the night made her feel safe and less lonely.
It kept the shadows away.
Baylee: Short nightshirt.
Axe: U got panties on?
This was going out of control fast. She had to nix this. He was her firm’s contract, and she knew better.
Baylee: Maybe.
Axe: Ur killing me.
Baylee: Am I?
Axe: U know it. U wet?
Her eyes widened. He was so brazen, so sexual, so dirty, and she absolutely loved it. She was acting like such a slut with him, giving him the wrong impression. She couldn’t have sex with him again, could she?
Baylee: I can’t tell u all my secrets…
Axe: I’m hard. U wanna tell me what u’d do to me if u were here?
He wanted her to text dirty, like phone sex, but she couldn’t do it. She’d gone too far with the game.
Baylee: Not in my job description.
Axe: It’s one of the perks of ur contract.
Baylee: Another time. Gotta go. Too late. Nite.
She turned off her phone, not trusting herself to be good if he responded again. She had no business teasing him. A man like that wanted action, not words. She may have unleashed a monster she’d have to tame, or at least douse with a bucket of cold water.
She switched off the lights, the little “conversation” she’d had with Axe relaxing her. She closed her eyes, and in barely five minutes, she was fast asleep.
* * *
“I was planning on working through lunch,” Baylee said to Logan as he sat across from her in her office.
“You have to eat. Anyway, we have some things we need to go over. Stan said the president of the motorcycle club wanted five storefronts instead of six. The club wants to have a burger joint and needs the extra space for that. We have to tweak the design.”
“Can’t we do that now?”
“I can’t think on an empty stomach, and I’m too busy this afternoon. We could do it tonight in your room, if you’d like?”
A night spent with Logan was not her idea of a good time. “That won’t work. All right, let’s go over the change at lunch. Let me grab my purse and iPad.”
Logan beamed. “I found a good restaurant next door. They make the best Monte Cristos.”