Bestfriend or Best Lover

TWENTY THREE

Belle's POV

Having thankfully taken charge of the situation, Caleb subtly gone out, offering Arden and me the chance to finally be alone after five long days of not speaking. It didn't take long before the house was completely emptied, which was just as well, given my desperation. Seeing as I was clutching house keys in one hand and my phone in the other, I chose to dispose of each item before tentatively making my way towards my best friend, unsure on what to do first.

Kiss him or slap him.

"Is it too soon to make an inappropriate prison joke?" I speculated, running into his open arms with no regard for his ribs what so ever.

"I didn't bend over to grab the soap if that's what you're worried about," he laughed, caressing my back with his huge hands. "I'm sorry, baby. I didn't mean to put you through all this. Caleb's told me how upset you've been."

Nothing was said on the matter as he pulled my entire body against his, leaving no gap between our rapidly breathing chests. He then proceeded to stroke my hair and detangled my knotted strands, stopping when his fingers got caught up a little.

So I hadn't brushed my hair.

Sue me!

"Is it over? Have they released you forever?" I asked, desperate for some answers.

"It's over," he ensured, gifting me the one thing I needed most. Relief.

Arden's acceptance in my liberation was strong in its statement, yet gentle in its pursuit to further appease me. It was clear he hated seeing me in such a state of distress, but when I felt so horrendously responsible for everything, I couldn't help it.

"I need you to listen very carefully while I explain something, okay?" he asked, to which I slowly nodded.

He carefully moved us both to a seated position on the sofa, never once taking his hand away from mine.

"I know you feel guilty, Belle. You have that look about you. It's the same look you had on the night of the event," he explained, gently so. "But this is not your fault. I was never arrested. Not really. It was a setup."

He paused slightly, allowing my mind the time it needed to accept the information he was sharing. Not that it helped, mind you. I was still as confused as before and didn't understand what he meant by the term 'setup'. Was he working with the police?

"I knew I had to do something. You wouldn't feel safe knowing that man was still out there following you so I got in touch with Greg and Paul."

"Greg and Paul?" I asked, clinging to his shoulders for physical support.

"Yeah, he put me in contact with Chase Security sports a staff that includes ex-special forces, CIA, FBI, and the list of skills and backgrounds are long. Their skills can uncover what's happening. I told them everything. As it turns out, the Police have been following that stalker of yours for a few years now but could never catch them in the act."

"Arm tattooed guy? Is that who Greg told us about?"

"Yeah."

"So it was all part of the plan? You'd arranged to meet up in order to catch them and the police came sweeping in?"

"Exactly, and they had to fake my arrest as to not draw suspicion. If any of them were to get out one day, they'd come straight for me, knowing I was the one who set them up."

His explanation came as quite the comfort, and I even allowed myself the privilege of thinking forward to our future together. I'd been so worried that I couldn't see past the end of the week, yet suddenly the possibilities were endless.