Hot SEAL, Heartbreaker - Cat Johnson Page 0,48
back up to meet Alicia’s. “You going to listen to the voicemail?”
“Nope.” She shook her head.
“What if it’s important?”
“What could be important?” She asked, honestly wondering. “I can think of no scenario where that man would have to speak to me.”
“I can.”
“Like what?”
“Maybe Greg’s been diagnosed with some terminal illness and wants to apologize to you and make amends before he dies.”
She shook her head. “I’m not sure he’s the make amends kind of guy.”
“It has to be something or he wouldn’t keep calling. And texting. And leaving sticky notes on your door.”
He’d only left a note once, but she got the gist of what Shelly was saying and it didn’t matter.
“I guess I’ll never know what he wants, will I?” Because she had no intention of speaking to him.
“What if I listened to the voicemail for you?” Shelly offered.
“Are you that curious?” she asked.
“Yes.” Shelly nodded. “But that’s not the reason. I want him to stop bothering you. Every time that phone rings, you jump. Even if it’s not him calling. You can’t live like this. But if I find out what he wants, and deal with him, maybe he’ll stop.”
Her friend was right about one thing. She was starting to hate her cell phone. Dread every beep, jingle or vibration it made. Hate seeing a new notification on the display. She couldn’t live like this for much longer.
“Right?” Shelly asked when she didn’t say anything.
“I guess so.”
“Then hand it over.” Shelly extended her hand and waited.
Finally she sighed and slapped the cell into her palm. “Fine. But don’t tell me what he says. Unless he’s dying. No, maybe not then either. I don’t want to feel sorry for him.”
She’d never wish him ill, but he didn’t deserve her empathy. He’d certainly shown her none.
“Will you let me listen and see what he wants, please?” Shelly tapped the screen and pressed the cell to her ear. Then took the phone away, tapped again, and listened once more.
She repeated the action a good three more times.
“How many voicemails are there?” she grumbled, even though she knew the answer. There were a lot. She’d been dodging him for a while now.
Shelly shushed her and listened some more, before she finally lowered the phone. “Okay—”
“Wait! I’m not sure I want to know.” Now that the time had come, she wasn’t sure she was ready to hear what he wanted.
Shelly rolled her eyes. “Stop. It’s nothing. Really. He just—”
She slapped her hands to her ears. “No. Don’t tell me yet.”
Shelly tipped her head to one side and waited. Finally, Alicia lowered her hands.
“Are you done now?” Shelly asked.
“I’m not sure,” she admitted.
Shelly’s shoulders sagged as she let out a big breath. “Just listen. And trust me, please.”
Still doubting the wisdom of this, she finally nodded. “Okay.”
“You still have his ID,” Shelly revealed.
“What?” She frowned. “No, I don’t.”
“He says you two went together to apply for passports before that trip you took a couple of months before you broke up.”
Yup. A dream trip to a resort in Mexico that she hadn’t realized at the time was the beginning of the end—for him anyway. Which was why she was so blindsided when he ended things shortly after.
“Yes. But why would I have his ID?”
“He said both of your stuff was in a manila envelope,” Shelly continued. “And you locked the envelope in the fireproof safe in your closet. And then you put both your passports in the safe after the trip. He says his birth certificate, social security card and passport are all still in there.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh my God. You’re right. I forgot all about that envelope.”
“Well, he’s going on vacation and needs it back,” Shelly said.
She narrowed her eyes as she wondered where he was going and with whom that he needed his passport. The bastard.
Scowling, she said, “He could have just said that instead of stalking me.”
“He did say it. A few times. On the voicemails you wouldn’t listen to. In the texts you wouldn’t read.” On her fingers, Shelly ticked off the many things Alicia had been avoiding.
“Oh.” She brushed aside the shame of her cowardice. She’d done what she needed to do for her own sanity.
“There’s more,” Shelly said. “Ready?”
She considered saying no. That there was no more she needed or wanted to hear about him, but she didn’t.
Time to put on her big girl panties. “Okay. What?”
“Do you still have his college sweatshirt?” Shelly asked.
She scowled and begrudgingly admitted, “Yes.”
Unlike the ID, which she’d honestly forgotten all about,