Page 60 of Captivating Anika

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Page 60 of Captivating Anika

That bastard had a knife to her throat. He cut her.

It’s controlled chaos here. A crime scene unit is roaming around out back and up in the apartment, while staff is being questioned one by one in the office. In the meantime, Anika is at the front desk, trying to get a hold of this afternoon’s customers, while I fend off anyone showing up at the front door with the excuse we’re looking into a possible gas leak.

“Done.” Anika sets the phone down and drops her head in her hands. “I’m starting to lose customers,” she laments. “A few we’ve had to cancel with twice already. I can’t blame them not wanting to reschedule again.”

“You’ll win them back once all this settles down,” I encourage her.

“Whenever that is. Who knows? I may have no one left by then.”

This kind of defeatist talk is not like Anika. I guess those knocks she appears to bounce back from are taking their toll after all.

“What do you need?”

She lifts her head a bit and looks at me, confused.

“What do you mean?”

“Right this moment, what do you need to make you feel better?”

“Some painkillers and a good long nap.”

I walk up to her, brush her hair to the side, and press a kiss to that tender spot behind her ear.

“Gimme a minute,” I tell her, before walking to the back where I find Bill Evans.

Ten minutes later, I have her loaded up in my new Suburban, and am on my way to Walgreens.

“Anything other than ibuprofen?” I ask her when I pull into the parking lot.

“I can’t think of anything.”

She’s so done, she’s starting to slur a bit.

“Okay. Wait here, I’ll be right back.”

I quickly duck into the store, grab what I need, and rush back out, only to find her already fast asleep in my passenger seat. She has a habit of doing that, falling asleep. I’m guessing that’s her body’s way of self-preserving, by shutting down when she’s on overload.

When we get to her place, I end up carrying her inside. She barely even notices, only blinking her eyes a few times before rolling on her side and going right back to sleep when I lay her on the couch. I briefly wonder whether I should wake her up to take some of her pills first, but I guess if she is sleeping that hard, she obviously needs it more.

I head back out to fetch her purse and the Walgreens bag, when I hear her phone ringing inside the truck. I find it in her purse, her brother’s name on the screen, so I answer.

“Bodhi.”

“Jesus, you’re answering her phone now?”

I pinch the bridge of my nose and inhale deeply before I respond.

“Right now your sister is sleeping on the couch. She’s had a bit of a day at work.”

“She sent me a message. We were called out to a brush fire up along Florida Road near the cemetery so I just got it. She said something about a break-in?”

Trust Anika to omit the part where she was held at knifepoint. Although that might not be something you want to share in a text message.

“It was a little more involved than that,” I volunteer, and proceed to fill him in on what happened.

I’m tempted to tell him about the FBI’s involvement, but decide to leave it up to Anika if she wants to share that part. I stick to the basics, but those are enough to cause an immediate shift in Bodhi’s attitude.

“Tell me you are not letting her out of your sight,” he snaps.




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