“No worries. I’ll look after her,” Grant said, shaking my brothers hand before turning his attention back to the lock.
Once I’d returned from walking Chris to the door and saying good-bye, I walked back into my living room to find Grant fishing through one bag he had brought. Then he reached into a box and pulled out a set of cameras.
“What are those for?” I questioned.
“To monitor all entrances. I will have them hooked to a hard drive to tape everything, that way everything is on film. Now, are these the only two entrances into this apartment?”
I nodded, my face heating. There was no way he was putting one of those in my bedroom.
Grant looked at me. “Becca?”
“This is it,” I said, turning away from him so he couldn’t see my flushed face, which I knew would give me away.
“Um, I’m sure your brother told me you had another one.”
“Of course, he did,” I whispered to myself and let out a huff. “It’s in my bedroom. Is it really necessary to put one in there?”
I turned around and met Grant’s eyes. He looked away quickly, a slight flush to his cheeks. “No, it’s fine. I’ll put one just outside of the bedroom door.”
“Thanks.”
I went back to folding the rest of the clothes in the basket as Grant made himself busy installing the first two cameras in the pathways of the doors. When I finished, I carried the basket down the hall and began putting my clothes away in my dresser. The nervousness I felt being around Grant alone was almost unbearable. I blew out a breath and did my best to calm my nerves. I had finally stopped shaking as I moved to the next drawer when Grant came into the bedroom.
“This the only other door?” he asked, again examining the lock on the sliding door?
“Yep.”
It felt awkward having him in the bedroom where I slept, where I’d dreamt of him not that long ago. I had dreamed of him being in here, but not to check the locks on the sliding doors. I glanced over at him out of the corner of my eye and watched him. For whatever reason, he had never seemed interested in me, though, and always kept things on the friends level.
“Why don’t you tell me about this guy?”
“What do you want to know?”
“Everything. Where you met, how long you’ve known him, how long you’ve dated him, where he lives, have you been intimate, everything,” Grant said, shrugging, while looking around for the perfect spot to place the last camera.
“His name is Jace. We met at The Wine Cellar. I was there for a work event, and after everyone left, I stayed behind for a while to unwind. I sat at the bar where he was bartending. He’s only been working there about six months. Anyway, we talked that night, and before I left, we had exchanged numbers. About a week later, he texted me and asked me on a date. That was about seven months ago.”
“He lives here in Merlot?”
I nodded. “Yes, over off Champagne trail, number 742 Apt 4A.”
“It’s not the best area, Becs.”
“I know. I don’t ever go there. He always comes here.”
“That’s a good thing. Chris said he put his fist through a wall.”
“Yes, he was upset because he had been after me to take him to meet the family. The weekend we were supposed to go, I ended up having to work. He got angry. That would be the best way to describe it.”
“Angry because you had to work?”
“Yeah, he had been messaging me that afternoon, and I was in meeting after meeting. It really bothered him I didn’t answer him. He claimed I was ignoring him.”
“I see. You think that is normal behaviour?”
I shook my head and closed the dresser drawer. “I’m not making excuses, but it only happened once. Perhaps he was having a bad day.” I shrugged.
“Perhaps, or perhaps he is an obsessive and controlling ass. Exactly how involved were the two of you?” He stopped what he was doing, and his eyes skimmed my body, an uncomfortable silence falling between us.
I could feel my face flush at his question. “We weren’t, if that is what you are asking.”
Grant smiled shyly and walked over to the bedroom doorway, looking up at the ceiling in the hallway and holding up a camera to see if he could get a good angle.
“So you are sure he doesn’t have a key?”
“I’m positive. I never gave him one.”
“Do you think he took anything—credit or debit cards, or even statements?”
“Why would he take those?”
“Did he ever mention things you had purchased? Things that you might not have told him?”
I shook my head. There was nothing I could remember him bringing up. “No, nothing like that.”
“I want you to go over your statements and highlight anything that you don’t recognize.
“I can. I just don’t see what difference that is going to make.”
“Just please do as I ask.”
“Fine. You don’t think that three cameras are overkill in a 1200 square foot apartment?”
Grant shrugged, “Maybe, but one can never be too safe Becs.”
I smiled at his answer and I wanted to ask him more questions, but he busied himself hanging the last camera, and I continued with the laundry. He spent the evening on his laptop, signing into the camera’s and checking the view of each of them, while I sat on the couch watching TV.
I yawned and stretched once the show I’d been watching was over and shut the TV off. “Well, I think I am off to bed. I have to work in the morning. You going to be okay out here?”
Grant looked up from the laptop and nodded. “Yep, I’ll be good.”
“Did you want a pillow and blankets?”
“Nah, I probably won’t sleep much. If I do ,it will be from that chair right there,” he said, pointing to the armchair he had moved and now sat in the corner.
“You can’t possibly sleep in that chair. Let me grab you some blankets and a pillow.”
“Becs, I hate to break it to you, but I have slept in way worse places than this chair. I’ll be fine.” I watched Grant stand and steady himself before he walked over to me. He leaned in and placed a kiss on my forehead, his lips lingering there just long enough to send a shiver down my spine. “Go get some sleep. I’ll be here if you need me.” He turned around and went and sat back down, paying no attention to the fact that I was still standing there watching him.
Grant
I’d pulled the blinds and shut the lights off hours ago. I sat in the armchair, behind the computer, my eyes heavy, as I struggled to stay awake. When I felt my head do another bob, I decided that perhaps I should try to sleep. I stood up and stretched, my shoulder screaming in agony. I pulled my shirt off over my head, dropping it to the floor beside my chair. I undid my belt, dropping my jeans to the floor, and I pulled the untouched duffle bag towards me and pulled out a pair of shorts, slipping them on.
Becca had been asleep for almost three hours. I sat down in the oversized armchair, my legs raised on the ottoman that sat in front of me. My leg ached, so did my head, and I reached for my bottle of medication, downing two pills.
I closed my eyes. I had finally figured out where the best placement for this chair was. It had only taken me an hour, but from where I sat, I could see from every vantage point. I could see the front entryway, the hallway, and I sat beside the sliding door in the living room. If he came in that entrance, it would be his worst mistake. There was no way he could sneak up on me.