Out of the Storm - COMPLETE

Chapter 37

Theo

FOR THE PAST two weeks, I've traced Jules' phone, studying the time she arrives and leaves from the office, where she goes before and after work, etc. Of course, I can't get exact locations, and I'm not a real stalker, so I've not been following her. I knew that day when she gave me my gun back, the way she kissed me, that it was goodbye for her. There hasn't been another call, another strange voice mail message from her, or a text. She's made it abundantly clear she wants nothing to do with me. No matter how many times I try to tell myself she was using me, I can't believe it. It just doesn't feel right. What we had was the realest thing I've ever experienced. It. Was. Real. Do I feel that way because I've said that over and over to the point it's become a habit?

The thing is, I don't think she was acting. She was going to give me her ring, and had I kept it, she would have let me. Something happened when she left my apartment that day two weeks ago, something that caused her to run from me to Jake, and I've been trying to figure it out ever since.

Even though we work in the same building, it blows my mind that we haven't run into each other at this point. That's part of the reason I started tracking her movements, so I could get a better idea of where she was, when she was there. And if I'm honest, to feel closer to her. That's fucked up, I know.

Blowing out a breath, I stare at the picture of her with the skatá prósopo.

I know it was a day. It was essentially a one-night stand that lasted about twenty-four hours, but I swear she looked different when she smiled at me after we'd fucked, in my office. She never gave me that fake smile she has with him.

Two weeks into this, I'm no closer to figuring out what they are up to than I was when I started this with Jules. And her phone doesn't offer me any clues as to what she's doing because she only appears to work and sleep. It's killing me to see how much weight she's lost just in the past couple of weeks.

I did ask Calvin if there was a way to see if she'd been using the gym, hoping maybe she'd been working out—that maybe that was the reason she'd slimmed down, not that she had any fat to lose. After paying him a couple hundred dollars, he showed me her gym attendance. Her badge, which is how we enter, hadn't been swiped there. So, at that point, I presumed she was just working and sleeping. Not eating. Not exercising.

Tracking her is pointless. It's not showing anything. And after weeks of hyper-focusing on her, the mere thought of the gym has me eager to blow off some steam. Grabbing my gym bag, my phone, and closing my laptop, I open my door, then lock it.

After that initial clusterfuck in my office, everything has seemed fine. Jules made me paranoid about a possible bug when she put her finger over her mouth and hushed me, so when I was putting everything back together, I swept the place, looking for one. There wasn't anything, which just proved what I already suspected. Charlie probably figured out Jules was involved with me and ransacked the place before I saw him getting off the elevator. It's been pristine since I cleaned it up, but I still find myself a bit jumpy when I open the door, always looking for bugs after I've been gone.

Pressing the up button, I glance around, constantly checking out my surroundings.

The dinging of the elevator seems louder than usual, but maybe that is because I'm hyper-aware of everything since this all started.

The doors open, and the girl who made me smile two weeks ago when I thought she was Jules is standing before me, a cell phone held to her ear. She gives me a hesitant smile. Dressed in a tight sports bra and equally as tight Spandex pants, she shuffles her sneaker clad feet to the side.

Looking to press the button for the gym, I see it's already lit up. Leaning against the wall, I stare at her. Is she involved in this shit?

The person she's talking to yells, "Anna?"

"I'm in the elevator," she tells the person on the other line, I assume, because I know where she is. Her eyes never leave mine. She moves the phone away from her mouth a little. "Theo, right?" she asks me.

I nod, trying to keep my face impassive. There's something about the way she says my name. It's sexy, but something seems off. It's not Jules saying it. It's not Jules saying it in an elevator. She's not Jules. But she reminds me of her, of the night when I thought maybe she could be her. When I pretended she was. Could I pretend tonight? Just to forget? Maybe hooking up with her would get me back in the backdoor to Hawke and Hawthorne since things are over with Jules.

The voice on the other end of her phone is so loud. I take a step closer to her, letting a small smile curve on my lips. Fuck, this feels so wrong, but I have to get closer to her.

Her sparkling blue eyes darken. She tries to back away, like she's afraid of me. I am a mystery giant. That brings a genuine smile to my face. She wasn't afraid of me. She was equally as interested in me as I was in her. But Anna. Anna looks scared shitless. There's nowhere for her to go. She swallows. "Um, babe, I need to go," she says, her voice quivering.

"What?" he asks, his deep voice rumbling in my ears clear as day, confirming exactly what I needed to know. She's abso-fucking-lutely involved. With Marco. She's Marco's fucking Anna. Now the only other question I have is why Marco didn't tell me he's screwing the receptionist at Hawke and Hemingway.