Falling For The Biker: The Vice President's Girl Chapter 102

Wren

"Okay ma'am," the mall attendant breathes. "I think I've been able to decipher this list of ingredients."

My cheeks flush. "Thank you. So sorry to be a bother."

"You're not. It's totally alright, and I'm happy to help."

"Thank you."

After the dress fiasco, I decided that just maybe I brought it back from Seattle, and in some careless unpacking from the Minnesota trip, I flung it on my bed and forgot.

Maybe.

That would be the better explanation. And before I lost mind over it, I decided to try cooking again for Ezra on our anniversary.

So here I was, in the mall…asking for help. My fail attempt to write a list nearly gave the mall attendant a blind eye.

But she's amazing, especially not only with rewriting my list but also walking with me to get the ingredients.

"Do you have a particular brand of pasta sauce?" We stop at the pasta sauce aisle and I stare at all the different bottles.

I know what you're thinking. Pasta again.

You're wrong.

It's just part of the ingredient I'm stocking up on. It's to be used much, much later.

I shrug. "What do you recommend? There's this brand I like…"

After the lovely attendant helped me with everything I needed, I decided to stroll around the mall.

Maybe I'd see something I like.

And I do.

I stop at the men fragrance section, and do a little scent testing. I'm so lost in taking note of the scents when the hairs on my back stand.

The feeling of being watched.

When I turn, nothing catches my attention. So, I chuck it up to paranoia. It's the first time being out of the house without informing anyone.

Careless, I know. Especially with everything happening, but I will be quick about it.

As I approach the counter to hand over the scents I've picked, I'm bumped into from behind.

"Sorry," the person mumbles.

"It's fi…" the words trail off when I see him already halfway down the aisle.

It's a man in a hoodie.

There's something about…hm, nevermind.

I pay for the scents, and flag down a cab.

In the car, my phone rings and I pick up.

"Hello?"

"Hi, darling." His voice comes in, light and airy.

My smile widens. "Hi yourself. How're you?"

"Good. Great, how's it going at home? Seeing a movie?"

"No? Why?"

"Your background is a bit, I don't know," he replies. "What are you up to?"

Well shit.

I bite my lip, locking eyes briefly with the driver in the rear mirror. "Urm, okay…don't get mad."

"Wren?" Something thuds in his background. "You better be home."

"I'm almost home."

"Almost home?" He shouts. "No one told me you stepped out."

I don't reply. He'll definitely figure it out in seconds.

"You didn't tell anyone, did you?" He growls. "Send me your ride information."

"I just flagged down a cab."

"Jesus, Wren! You flagged down—oh dear god."

"Don't freak out, I'll be home soon."

"How far away are you? You're going to give me heart attack. Where the ever loving fuck did you even go? Jesus Christ!"

"I said don't freak out, and you're doing the exact opposite—"

"Of course I'm freaking out. Do you have any idea how dangerous that is? You can't just step out of the house without telling anyone, not when things are crazy right now."

"I just went shopping, Ezra. It's not a big deal."

"You're right," he snaps. "It's not a big deal. It's a huge fucking deal! Share your location, Wren. I can't see it."

"I'm almost home—"

"Share the location."

"Okay, okay, fine." I type away on my phone and share my location with him. "Done. Happy now?"

"Very."

The driver pulls up at the gate and I get out, tipping him before making my way inside.

"I'm home," I tell Ezra who is still on the call.

"I can see that."

By the time I'm safely locked inside, I place all the bags on the kitchen island. "Can I go now?"

"Please," he begs. "Don't do this again, birdie."

"Okay."

"I'm serious."

"I am too."

"Wren."

"Ezra." I laugh. "Oh come on, I'm sorry. It won't happen again, I promise."

He breathes. "You're going to be the death of me."

A giggle slips past my lips. "Go do your thing. Come back soon, okay?"

"Alright, sweetheart. Be safe."

"You too."

"I love you."

My smile turns silly. "I love you, baby."

When the call ends, I get to unpacking.

Grabbing a pen and tape, I take my time to label properly each item for cooking.

I'd hate for another cooking disaster to happen. Ezra would flip his shit.

Once I'm done with the last time—my head is banging and so are my eyes—I flip the bag over and something falls off.

I pause, picking it up.

It's a necklace. A very familiar necklace. One I don't recall seeing in a while.

A simple gold chain with a locket.

My throat dries as I flip open the locket. "Oh god."

I jerk away from it like it burned me, watching the necklace tumble on the island—with horror—until it eventually stops.

There, staring back at me is a picture of me…and Tristan.

This cannot be a coincidence.

The dress could be, but the necklace…in my shopping bag...

I take my phone and rush up the stairs, heart pounding in my chest.

Shoving the bathroom door open, I take in lungfuls of air. The fear in my eyes is palpable, my skin pale and blotchy.

"I'm losing my mind," I mutter, and splash some water on my face. "I brought those items back. I probably grabbed the jewelry by mistake and it fell into my shopping bag. I…Jesus, this is ridiculous."

I don't know who I'm trying convince. Myself or my sanity.

My head bobs slowly. "I should sleep. Maybe I'm sleep deprived, coupled with stress and so I'm definitely seeing things."

In some way, the sound of the rushing water from the faucet manages to calm my mind. After some breathing exercises in front of the mirror, I get into the bed.

'When I wake up from my nap–' I think, '–I'll cook some anniversary dinner for my boyfriend and all these other things will fade to the back of my mind'.

Eyes fluttering close, I toss and turn for god knows how long. And when I hear the front door creak open, my eyes widen.

My heart drops, and I jump out of bed on shaky limbs.

A quick glance at the clock tells me it's almost four p.m. I hide behind my door, listening as the footsteps pad up the stairs.

I hold my breath as the door slowly opens. Once the intruder steps in, I grab the bedside lamp and—

"What are you doing?"

I stop. The lamp held above my head.

It takes a moment to realise I had my eyes closed. The breath leaves me in a rush when I see Ezra standing front of me with a confused look.

I toss the lamp somewhere on the bed and fling myself into his arms. "Oh god, Ezra I'm so glad it's you."

"Are you okay? You're trembling."

I am.

He holds me tighter.

"I'm here sweetheart," he says. "I'm here. You're okay."

I'm really not.

A tear rolls down my cheeks, and I don't let go.