Tell who?
Frowning, I lowered my voice and spoke right into the phone. “Did you hear that? I think he might be deranged.”
“Deranged?” Intruder scoffed. “I’m not crazy, just… tired.” Something dropped to the floor with a thud on the other side of the door and I prayed it wasn’t him because I wasn’t up for dealing with an unconscious man on top of everything.
“I heard,” the dispatcher said. “And, miss, I’m—”
“Did I get the wrong door or something?” Intruder interrupted.
The wrong… door?
That caught my attention.
“Miss,” the emergency dispatcher hissed. “Your name and the address to your home, please.”
“Rosie,” I said quickly. “I’m Rosalyn Graham and… And, well, technically this is not my home. I’m at my best friend’s place. She’s away at the moment, and I needed… a place to stay. But I didn’t break in, obviously. I had a key.”
“And I have a key, too,” Intruder offered.
A record scratched in my head.
“Impossible.” I scowled at the door. “I have the only spare that exists.”
“Miss Graham.” The dispatcher’s voice was laced with annoyance. “I want you to stop interacting with the individual outside your door and share your location. We’ll send a unit to check on things.”
My mouth opened but before any words came out, Intruder spoke again, “She really outdid herself.”
She. That she again.
Neither of us said anything for a few seconds. Then, the silence was broken by a heavy thump. One that sounded a lot like he had just slumped against his side of the entrance door.
“She?” I finally asked, ignoring the “Miss Graham?” coming from my phone’s speaker.
“Yeah,” Intruder said simply. “My very funny and highly creative little cousin.”
A breath got stuck somewhere between my rib cage and mouth.
Little cousin.
She.
The intruder’s thick accent that is so terribly familiar.
The only possible explanation took shape in my head.
Had I—
No. I couldn’t be that big of a dumbass.
“Miss Graham?” came from the line again. “If this is not an emergency—”
“Sorry, I—” I closed my eyes. “I’ll call back if I… need to. Thank you.”
Little cousin.
Oh God. Oh no. If this was one of Lina’s cousins I’d messed up. Big time.
I terminated the call, pushed the phone into the back pocket of my jeans, and forced myself to take a deep breath in the hopes that oxygen would reach my clearly faulty brain cells. “Who exactly is your cousin?” I asked, even though I was pretty sure I knew the answer.
“Catalina.”
It was official. I had messed up. Yep. And yet, because this was New York and I had dealt with my fair share of strange people and stranger situations, I still added, “I’m going to need more information than that. You could have checked the name on the mailbox.”
A long and loud sigh was released on the other side of the wooden border that separated us, making the already souring sensation in my stomach swirl.
“I’m sorry,” I blurted out, unable to stop the two words from coming out. Because I was sorry. “I’m just making sure that—”
“That I’m not a deranged person,” Intruder answered before I could get through with the rest of my apology. “Catalina Martín, born the twenty-second of November. Brown hair, brown eyes, loud laugh.” My eyes shut again, the swirling in my belly climbing up to my throat. “She’s tiny but if she kicks you in the nuts, she’ll knock the air right out of you all the same. I know that from firsthand experience.” A short pause. “What else? Let’s see… Oh, she hates snakes or anything that looks remotely like one. Even if that’s a few socks sewn together and filled with toilet paper. Clever, huh? Well, that was what led to the nuts kicking. So the joke was really on me.”
Yup.
I’d screwed up. Big time.
Big, big, big time.
And I felt horrible. Awful.
So much that I couldn’t even bring myself to stop him when he went on, “She’s away for the next few weeks. Enjoying her honeymoon in… Peru, was it?” He waited for my confirmation, but none came. I was speechless. Mortified. “Aaron’s the lucky guy. A tall and intimidating-looking dude from the photos I’ve seen.”