43. Chapter 43

Chapter 43

Kayla

The next morning, I wake up in Ethan's bed—our bed—alone and sore all over. Just like I expected, my legs shoot flares of pain into the rest of my body every time I try to move, and even something as simple as lowering myself onto the toilet is an excruciating matter that makes me feel like I'm ninety.

Done in the bathroom, I wobble over to the kitchen, finding it empty as well. There's a note on the counter that just says "downstairs" but I ignore it in favor of breakfast. Ethan's stocked up on my favorite brand of yogurt and there are cookies in the cupboard, so I make myself a big cup of coffee and refuel my body before the perilous journey to the basement.

The steps look even more daunting than I imagined. With each step, I groan in pain as my poor thighs do their best to hold my body upright. Dammit, yesterday's game in the forest after riding the horse was truly a bad idea. I've got gym legs without even going to the gym!

"Hey, are you alright?" Ethan asks, his brows drawn together in concern as he peeks out from his bat cave. "Jesus." When it looks like I'm about to tumble down the stairs, he leaps to my rescue and scoops me up into his arms. "Are you hurt, Kayla?"

"Just my pride," I snicker. "You can put me down now."

"Like hell I will. What's going on?"

Is he really making me say it out loud? God, I hate him! "My muscles hurt, alright? I don't work out. Like, ever," I grumble. "And yesterday was…well, it was great, but it was also quite strenuous, so now I won't be able to walk without pain for a day or two. Happy?"

"I'm never happy to see you in pain, bunny. Unless it's the fun kind of pain." He grins, effortlessly carrying me through the secret door.

It's not until he puts me in an office chair that I realize there are two of them. I'm fairly certain that the last time I was here, there was only one chair. "Did you buy an extra bat cave chair because of me?"

"Bat cave." He smirks. "I like that. And yes, I did. Although I can always use it as a clothes hanger if you don't want to be down here."

Even though Ethan does his best to keep his voice lighthearted, I recognize a hint of insecurity as he makes his offer. He's telling me I don't need to be involved in this part of his life.

Rolling my chair closer to him—because there's no way in hell I'm getting up without help—I reach for his hand. "Ethan, I love you. All parts of you," I tell him honestly. "I'm in. I'm not sure I'll be of much help with what you do since I know absolutely zilch about the computer stuff other than how to turn it off and on again, but I'm here in whichever way you need me. Besides, you'd never just hang your clothes on a chair."

"You know me too well, bunny." He smiles, his eyes getting a little watery, but he blinks to get rid of the unshed tears.

Like most men, Ethan is probably under the ridiculous notion that real men don't cry. I'll see about chipping away at that wall when I don't have a crazy stalker after me. Another crazy stalker, that is.

"Did you find Adams?" I ask, scouring the various screens on the wall next to us. Most of them are camera feeds from outside the house and the street, but there are two brimming with information on Benjamin Adams, M.D. Not public information, either. Ethan seems to have dug up everything he could find, including Adams' bank statements and his college exam results.

With a sigh, Ethan turns to the screens. "No, I didn't." He sounds genuinely embarrassed about it. "I underestimated him. After he first threatened you, I've been tracking his location using his phone. I thought it would be enough. But he's smarter than I thought. He ditched his phone, his car, his credit cards, everything I could use to track him. He's not been around his house, nor has he tried to contact any of his former friends. Not that anyone would risk being seen with him at this point. He's lost everything, which makes him extremely dangerous."

I shudder, remembering the dead cat in my car. Adams had no qualms butchering an innocent animal just to send me a message. I don't even want to think what he'd do if he got his hands on me. And for what?

"It's ridiculous." I glare at Adams' photo. "I'm not responsible for anything that's happening to him. I'm not even on Aaron's case anymore. Adams got me reassigned. What the fuck does he have against me?"

"He's lost it," Ethan replies, shrugging. "He needed someone to blame, and you were just conveniently there. It's not your fault, Kayla."

"Pfft. I know it's not my fault. I just want him gone. I can't hide out here forever. It's…" I do a quick count in my head. "Saturday?" Has it only been three days since Ethan kidnapped me? It feels longer. "I'm happy to stay here for the weekend, but I need to go back to work on Monday. I've had this new job for only a month and I've already taken too many days off. If Director Smith didn't desperately need more social workers to share the caseload, she would have fired me already."

Ethan shakes his head. "Don't worry about Victoria. I'll handle her."

"Oh, right, I forgot you two are buddies. Still, I need to go back to work. Is that going to be a problem?" I'm not just talking about Adams right now, and Ethan knows it.

He's been treating me as if we were in a real relationship and I couldn't ask for a better boyfriend, but he did kidnap me.

"No, Kayla, it's not going to be a problem," he replies seriously. "I know you love your work and you're great at it. I'd never stop you from doing what you love, if that's what you're asking. The world needs your big heart. If I don't find Adams by Monday, I'll figure out a way to keep you safe."

I shouldn't be so happy about my boyfriend allowing me to go to work, but I know his worries come from a good place. Remembering the dead cat again, I'm grateful to have someone watching over me.