On the way home, she’d gone shopping for sexy bras and panties. After she’d had dinner and the cats had been fed, she’d streamed American Sniper. As she watched the ending of the movie, she reached for another tissue to wipe away the tears flowing down her cheeks.
God, Cody, was it like that for you? It was a useless question as he wasn’t here to answer. Arthur jumped onto her lap, nuzzling his face against hers. “I know, sweetie.” He hated when she cried, had from the beginning when she’d been a wounded young girl telling him her deepest, darkest secrets. “It’s just that I think he’s hurting really bad, and I want to help him.”
She thought he needed a friend but didn’t know how to ask for one, much less how to let her or anyone else in. It was late, but she was restless after watching the movie. Cody hadn’t called, which surprised her as he’d been keeping in touch since he left. Before she could talk herself out of it, she texted him.
Are you awake?
When several minutes passed with no answer, she turned out the light and tried to go to sleep. Scenes from the movie kept running through her head with Cody’s face instead of Bradley Cooper’s. If Cody was in a bad place like she thought, she could relate to that better than he would ever know.
She didn’t often allow herself to think of that time in her life. When she did, it was like her heart was ripped open all over again. Don’t go there, Riley. She wrapped her pillow around her head and squeezed her eyes shut, but that was a mistake. Reed Decker hovered there in the dark, his hand reaching for her as if begging for help.
Suddenly, she couldn’t get air into her lungs, and she shot up, toppling Arthur off her stomach. Lights. She needed the lights on. As she reached for the lamp, her phone buzzed. Grabbing her cell as if she’d been thrown a lifeline, she read the text.
Yes.
She stared at the message, trying to decipher that one word. Did he want to talk? Not talk? She waited a few minutes to see if he’d say more, but nothing came through. Kind of weird. Curiosity won out, and she pushed Call. Besides, she needed to hear his voice so she could replace it with the one in her head belonging to Reed. The phone rang so many times that she was about to hang up when he finally answered.
“Hey,” she said. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”
“No.”
“Good. I guess I got used to you checking in and was worried when I didn’t hear from you.”
“I’m fine.”
Funny, he didn’t come across as fine. His tone was clipped, and he sounded nothing like the man who’d called her darlin’ during their last phone conversation. “Okay. Good.” When he didn’t respond, she took a deep breath, wishing she hadn’t called him.
“The dogs behaving?”
She nodded before realizing he couldn’t see her. “You know they are. You’ve trained them well.” Again, nothing back from him. “Well, I’ll let you go. You know when you’ll be home?”
“Tomorrow.”
“That’s good. They’ll be happy to see you. Nite.” As much as she wanted to ask him what was wrong—because she was certain something was—she didn’t. Maybe he was just tired. Who knew? He sure wasn’t giving her any hints.
“Riley?”
Her heart stuttered. She knew what pain sounded like, and she heard it in the way he said her name. “Yeah?”
“Thanks for calling.”
“Sure. See you tomorrow.” He hung up without answering, and she stared at the phone’s screen. Maybe she should have said more, but not having any idea what the deal was with him, she hadn’t a clue how to offer comfort . . . or whatever he needed.
Didn’t mean she wouldn’t worry about him.
Riley was going over the instructions for care after spaying with a cat’s owner when Michelle opened the door and crooked her finger. Her receptionist wouldn’t interrupt if it weren’t an emergency.
“That’s it,” Riley said, handing the woman a sheet that detailed everything she’d just explained. “Call me if you see any of the symptoms on this list.”
Michelle rushed into the exam room as soon as Riley was alone. “We have another poisoned pet. Mr. Hatchel’s dog. Brooke’s in two with him. Doesn’t look good.”
“Dammit.” Riley went to the sink, and as she washed her hands, she scanned the day’s appointments pinned to the corkboard. “Tell Lisa that we might be running late. She can either wait or bring Barney back at five, unless she wants to reschedule him for another day.” The cockatiel just needed his wings clipped, so it wasn’t critical that she see him right away.