Obsessed (Whiskey Run Book 3) Hope Ford (find a book to read .TXT) 📖

and tell her between clenched teeth, “I don’t need help across the street.”

“Fine,” she says, waving her hand, gesturing me to leave. If my head wasn’t pounding, I’d stay, but I can’t even think straight right now.

“Fine,” I tell her as I walk past her with as much dignity as I can muster. I know her gaze follows me all the way across the street, down the block, and she doesn’t look away until I walk into McCarthy Security.

“Damn, what’s happened to you?” Sam asks as soon as I walk into the door.

I’m holding my head. “Nothing. I just need a few minutes. I had to take a pill. I should be good in fifteen to twenty minutes.”

He doesn’t question me, just nods his head, and I walk into the break room and sit back on the couch. I take deep, cleansing breaths and try to let my mind free.

After thirty minutes of sitting there, I finally feel like I can function again. I work the rest of the morning helping Sam prepare for the city office installations, scheduling out the rest of the week. I’m sitting at the conference table where I have a perfect view of the library. At lunch time, Sierra walks out and locks the door. She only gets a few steps from the door when a man walks up to her.

My jaw clenches. It looks innocent enough, but I don’t like it. The man seems as if he’s leaning into her. “Sam, who is that?”

Sam walks over and peeks out the window. “That’s Jake. He and Sierra must have made up.”

Made up? I stand up and crowd the window to watch where they go. I think I’m about to lose sight of them until they stop and hug, and she walks into Red’s Diner. Fury is building inside me. I pace the room, ignoring the smirks I keep getting from my brother. I need to just lock this down. I know I can’t force her to go out with me, but I need a plan.

5

Sierra

I barely let Violet pull up a chair before I start blabbing. All morning after Evan left, I fought with myself on whether I should have followed him over to his office or not. He walked just fine, but maybe his ego was dented. And should I be pissed that he thought I cared about his vertigo – as if that would be a reason not to date someone. But just the fact he said it tells me a lot more about Evan than I already knew. He’s hurting. There’s no doubt about it. And then I find a letter in the night box at the library, and so I have that to worry about too.

“He asked me out.”

Violet smirks. “Who did?”

I roll my eyes. She knows exactly who I’m talking about. Besides books, Evan McCarthy is the only subject I ever talk about. “Evan.”

She practically starts bouncing in her seat. “That’s so exciting! When are you going? Where are you going?”

I want to revel in her excitement. I want to be able to let myself go and be excited as she is, but I’m not. I can’t let myself. “I told him no.”

As soon as I say it, I sit back and wait for the wrath from Violet. I know it’s coming. She sputters and stutters before finally getting it out. “But why? Why would you tell him no?”

I shrug, not wanting to get into it, but I know that won’t fly with Violet. She sets her cup of coffee down on the table in front of her and leans toward me. “Sierra, you have been in love with Evan since high school.”

I’m shaking my head. “I wouldn’t call it love.” I look up at the ceiling to avoid her all-knowing look. “A crush. I had a crush on him.”

She snort-laughs, and I reach over to grab her hand because everyone in the restaurant is staring at us. “What? That’s all it was. I’m over it.”

Violet just continues to shake her head. “You can’t just throw this away. A crush, love, whatever you want to call it, you don’t just say no because you’re scared.”

I jut my chin out at her. “I’m not scared.”

She nods her head, her eyes big. “Yes, you are. He’s a good guy, Sierra. You know he is, I know he is. I know you, and you think it’s pity or whatever, but it’s not. You didn’t see his face when he found out you were the one that sent him all the care packages. That meant a lot to him.”

I’m quiet for so long I finally decide to change the subject. “So, when are you going to talk to me about your secret?”

She leans back in her chair. “I don’t have any secrets.”

It’s my turn to snort. “Really? You mean the marriage certificate I found with your name on it... that’s not a secret?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she says, and before I can ask her anything else about it, she changes the subject. “So what about you? You still feel like someone’s watching you?”

Shoot. I almost let myself forget about it. For the past few months, weird things have been happening. I’ve felt like I’ve been watched a few times I swear that things have been moved around my house. But as soon as I get freaked out about it, days will go by with nothing, and I’ll convince myself that everything is fine.

I dig into my purse and pull out an envelope and lay it on the table between us. “I found this in the night drop.”

She reaches out and picks it up gingerly, as if she’s waiting for a bomb to go off. Slowly, she opens it and unfolds the paper and reads it. I already have the message committed to memory