Page 56 of Total Obsession

I needed to process everything I was seeing and get a closer look at the photo. Maybe my eyes were playing tricks on me.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," Miranda commented. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," I lied. "Just tired. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Okay," Miranda said slowly, flipping to Bravo.

I didn't mind the somewhat long walk back to my apartment, even though the night air in the city was below freezing. It hadn't snowed yet, so the streets just looked gray and dreary.

It was late and even though it was the city that never slept, it still got drowsy from time to time. This was one of those times. The stillness gave me time to reflect on everything that had just happened in the last twenty-four hours.

I tried to retrace my steps and paint a clear picture in my mind.

Axe showed up at my apartment last night.

Axe whisked me away suddenly to Miami.

Axe claimed that he'd talked to my show's producer and I was off of work for a week.

Axe made two suspicious phone calls last night.

Axe disappeared in the morning for a "work thing."

My filming was never canceled.

Axe appears on the nightly news as a suspect in a Miami shooting.

By the time I'd arrived at my apartment door, I wasn't sure where the explanations were going to fit into all of that. It seemed to be a completely damning line of events.

I fumbled in my purse looking for my key card. I was so on edge at the moment that I couldn't even think straight. Miranda's words were ringing in my ears, and the image of Axe on the television was all I could see when I closed my eyes.

I just wanted to pop a Xanax and sleep the night away. Maybe this entire thing had been a dream. That would be the best explanation for all of it.

I was finally able to get the door open, and I stumbled through it.

"Welcome home."

* * *

After all of the defending of Axe that I'd done over the past several hours, I never thought that just hearing his voice would put me instantly on edge. There was something eerie about seeing a man wanted by police on the television and then having him appear calm, cool, and collected in your apartment only a few hours later.

I froze at that moment, not sure what to do. Part of me wanted to yell and scream at him. Part of me wanted to run into his arms and cry. Part of me wanted to turn and run the other way. All three sides competed against one another and no side won, so I just stood there, like a deer in headlights.

Axe was not in his usual black suit. In fact, he was in an outfit that I barely recognized him in.

Dark jeans and a black v-neck tee shirt.

It was another thing that put me even more on edge. Why was he suddenly changing up his appearance?

"What happened to you?" he asked me, getting up off the couch and making his way toward me.

I took a few measured steps in the opposite direction, and he frowned.

"When I got back to the house, you were gone."

"I had to go to work," I said, letting the disdain coat my voice.

Axe looked confused. "I don't understand. I spoke with your producer. They informed me that filming would be delayed for the week."