8. Evan
EVAN
“Ev.”
I looked up and finished buttoning my pants. “Yes?”
Vlado stood in the doorway to my dressing room, his expression grim. “We got another one.”
“What did it say?”
“Same as the others. But the language was more personal.”
“How so?” I worked my way down the buttons on my shirt, undoing them with more force than was necessary.
“The other letters made it seem like it was a group targeting you. We’re watching you. We demand. That sort of thing. This one was singular. I’m not going to ask again. Don’t ignore me .”
Stripping off my shirt, I tossed it aside. “Do you think they slipped up, or are we dealing with two different threats?”
He handed me a clean shirt from my closet. “It’s definitely the same threat. Everything about the letter and delivery was identical except for that.”
“Why would they change it?” I slipped the shirt on. “A group is more threatening than an individual person. Do you think they did it so it makes them sound like they’re splintering and one of them is going rogue?”
“Maybe. Or maybe it really is just one person and they’re getting sloppy.”
“That could be. But it’s been months of these letters and no action. How dangerous do you think they are?”
“Just because they haven’t acted doesn’t mean they won’t.
It’s a common tactic to scare a victim with threats before attacking them.
The psychological effects of knowing you’re being stalked or threatened is an effective way to get in someone’s head and mess with them.
Stalkers love the mental trauma their actions cause their victims as much as the endgame of actually hurting them. ”
I hummed and finished buttoning my shirt.
One of the reasons Vlado was so good at his job were his instincts. He had a sixth sense about incoming danger and always seemed to be a step ahead of every threat that came my way.
He’d saved my life more than once in the past, and he’d also handled multiple stalkers, wannabe blackmailers, and thwarted a few kidnapping attempts.
Three months ago a letter arrived at my Seattle apartment, and like clockwork, another had shown up every week since.
Whoever was sending them had done everything possible to conceal their identity.
They were printed on a common brand of copy paper using a printer that had been modified to not leave any identifying information or tracking codes.
The envelopes were standard sized and a generic brand that was available everywhere, and there were never any prints or DNA on the letter, stamp, or inside of the envelope.
The deliveries were sent through regular mail and were processed through different post offices around the city.
Despite all that, I couldn’t shake the feeling that whoever was sending them wasn’t a real threat.
“Which tie do you want?” He indicated the two I’d laid out earlier.
“Blue.”
He handed it to me. “You know, this color reminds me of a certain someone’s eyes.”
I looped the tie around my neck and popped the collar of my shirt. “Does it now.”
“You’ve been wearing a lot of blue lately.”
“Have I?”
“You’re annoying when you’re trying to be coy.”
“I am?”
He gave me an unimpressed look.
“What are we going to do about this latest letter?” I asked.
“Not much we can do without more information. I’ll add extra guys to the schedule and send it off to be analyzed. But I’m guessing it’ll come back as clean as the others.”
“Probably. I still don’t think this is anything to worry about. It’s most likely some whackjob with too much time on his hands, or someone I pissed off who’s trying to mess with me.”
“Maybe, but maybe not,” Vlado cautioned. “They’re being sent through local channels, so that right there ups the threat level.”
“But you said yourself they could be using a local connection to send the letters while they observe from afar.”
“I don’t have enough facts to know either way. Until I have solid, tangible proof that this isn’t something to worry about, it’s my job to worry about it. Ready to go pick him up?”
“Ready.” I fell into step beside Vlado as we headed out of the dressing room.
* * *
Nick was leaning against the outside wall of his building as we pulled up. Grinning, he bounded over to the car and wrenched the door open.
“How’s it hanging?” He tossed a duffel bag in the car and slid into the seat.
“To the left, same as always,” Vlado quipped.
“Are you a grower, or a shower, Vlado?” Nick turned his attention to the front of the car, an impish grin on his plush lips.
“A little of both.”
“Is that your way of saying you have a big dick?” Nick asked.
“I don’t like to brag, but…”
Nick snickered. “Don’t lie. You love to brag.”
“Guilty.” Vlado pulled away from the curb.
“Evan loves to brag too, isn’t that right?” He swept his gaze to me. “Like when that greasy guy was going on about that thing the other night and you were all ‘is that so, peasant?’ I thought you were gonna whip your disco stick out and have a dick measuring contest right then and there.”
“Is it weird that I know exactly what moment you’re talking about?” Vlado asked.
“Nope. Means I’m rubbing off on you.” Nick grinned. “You’re both gonna be fluent in Nickalese in no time.”
“Are you talking about when Malcolm was pestering me about the new security measures he wants to put in place and I was trying to explain how our last system update already included all of his suggestions?”
“Not sure. Is Malcolm the dude with the super shiny hair and the lemon face?”
“Lemon face?” I asked before I could stop myself.
“Yeah. Like he sucks on lemons for fun and walks around looking like a sourpuss.”
“That does sound like Malcolm.” I chuckled. “I have no idea what my sister sees in him.”
“Your sister? Isn’t she getting married?” He gasped theatrically. “Shut the front door. No freaking way. Your sister is marrying lemon face?”
“Yes.”
“Why? Does he have a bigger dick than Vlado?”
I grimaced. “If you could not talk about my future brother-in-law’s dick size, especially in relation to my best friend’s dick, that would be great.”
“Sorry.” He grinned, not looking the least bit apologetic.
“How was work? Was the big reopening everything you’d hoped it would be?”
“It was.” He nodded gleefully. “Biggs and Hazel did an amazing job fixing the place up.”
“It doesn’t look like your grandma’s basement anymore?” I teased.
“Nope. It’s classy as fuck now. The whole vibe is so much better.”
“Are you all set for tomorrow?” I asked.
Nick was going to be staying with me at my house in Seattle for the next two weeks to make it easier for us to coordinate him attending a series of weeknight and daytime events.
He’d taken a leave of absence from his café job and had worked things out with his boss at the club so that he would only be working one night for the next two weekends.
The plan was to get him settled at the house tonight after our outing.
“Yup. It’s still weird that I’m going to be living somewhere else for two weeks and I’m only bringing a bag of essentials.
I’m that person who packs enough for twenty-seven days when I go away for a weekend.
” He nibbled his lip and looked away. We’d spent enough time together I recognized that as a telltale sign he was actively stopping himself from speaking.
“What?” I asked.
“I kinda told my roommate about you. Not the truth,” he added hastily. “Just enough of a half-lie that it’s kinda true but not.”
“You did?”
He nodded, his blue eyes wide and filled with sincerity.
“I had to explain why I was being so weird and secretive at home. Aiden’s been my bestie since we were little.
He can always tell when I’m lying or hiding something, and I was avoiding him and freaking him out and he got all serious and said he was worried about me and scared because I wasn’t acting like myself and I couldn’t keep it up. ”
“What did you tell him?”
“That I have a sugar daddy. I didn’t tell him anything specific about you other than you’re not old and you’re in business.
I’m sorry. Did I mess everything up? I tried really hard not to break the NDA, but I couldn’t keep lying to his face like that.
Especially since I’m not going to be home for two weeks.
I literally dropped that on him last night because I’ve been so stressed with what I can and can’t tell people.
I’m not good at lying, and I hate doing it. ”
“I understand.” I squeezed his firm thigh reassuringly. “I should have realized you’d need some sort of cover story to explain things to the people in your life.”
“You’re not mad?”
“I’m not mad.”
His smile was so brilliant it lit up his face. Heat moved through my chest and down to my groin as Nick leaned back and kicked his feet.
“I’m still not used to all this legroom.”
“You’re not?” I quirked my eyebrow at him. “I would have thought you’d be intimately acquainted with that space after spending so much time kneeling in it.”
He made a face. “I know that was probably supposed to sound sexy, but it just came out pretentious.”
Vlado laughed heartily. “He’s got your number, Ev.”
“So, Vlado. How’re you? Anything new or fun in your life?” Nick asked. A warm smile stretched his lips as he turned his focus to the front of the car.
“Can’t complain. Or I could, but bossman is here so I’d better not.” Vlado winked at him in the rearview mirror.
“Is he being his usual self?”
“He is.”
“Bummer for you.”
“I’m sitting right here,” I drawled.
Nick flicked his gaze to mine. “Do you mind, I’m trying to have a conversation with Vlado.”
“You’re extra feisty today,” I said, not bothering to hide my smirk. Usually an attitude like Nick’s would piss me off, but on him, it was endearing.
“I’m in a mood. And I have no idea where we’re going or what we’re doing. I figure I’d better lean into it now so I don’t scandalize your beige friends with my sassiness.”
“You don’t have to worry about that today.”
“Huh? You want me to scandalize people today?”
“I mean you don’t have to worry about boring people.”