Chapter 9 Willow
Willow
“He lost control of the bungee harness? I would pay money to see that.”
“I couldn’t stop laughing, Vi. It was adorable.
He’s this massive former Navy SEAL, and he’s suspended three feet off the ground, spinning in circles while Leona tried to untangle him.
But he has no shame. The man followed every instruction she gave, even the ridiculous ones.
By the end, his Superman was absolute perfection. ” I kiss my fingers in emphasis.
“Please tell me someone got video.”
“I wish! Cannon misjudged his momentum during the pike jumps and literally bounced backward into the mirrors. Twice. But Vi, he just laughed it off and kept going. No ego whatsoever.”
We’re sitting in our condo at my insistence. I need to be in my space, with my things. Violet came with me, and Jake is stationed right outside our door. I’m not too happy about that, but having him there makes me feel much safer.
“So you filed the police report this morning?” Violet curls her legs underneath her on the couch, wrapping her hands around her coffee mug.
“Yeah. Chief Turner took it seriously, which I appreciated. He said the messages alone might not be enough for charges, but combined with the vehicle sightings and the timing, it builds a pattern.” I pull up the email chain on my laptop.
“Cannon sent him all the security footage from Stems and Blooms, the gym, and the arena. Plus screenshots of every message.”
“What did the chief say about the footage?”
“He’s running the plate information on that gray SUV. The rodeo stickers are distinctive enough that if they show up again, we’ll know.” I close the laptop and set it aside. “The problem is we can’t see the driver clearly in any of the shots. Just the vehicle.”
Violet sets down her mug, her expression serious. “Are you scared, Will?”
I consider the question, really think about it. “Honestly? Yes. But I’m also angry. Like, who does this person think they are? I don’t belong to anyone except myself. And now Cannon,” I add with a small smile. “But that’s my choice.”
“Cannon’s pretty intense about protecting you.”
“He is. And I love him for it, but...” I trail off, searching for the right words. “I need him to remember I’m not fragile. I can handle this. We can handle this together.”
My phone buzzes. It’s a text from Cannon.
Bennett and I are picking up dinner. Chinese okay? We’re staying the night.
I show Violet the message. She grins. “A sleepover? How very middle school of us.”
“Except with two overprotective men who probably won’t sleep at all.”
“True. But at least Cannon’s hot.”
I throw a pillow at her, laughing despite everything.
***
By seven o’clock, our small condo is filled with the smell of General Tso’s chicken, fried rice, and egg rolls. Bennett and Cannon arrive with a deck of cards and enough food to feed an army.
“Spades?” Bennett announces, holding up the cards. “Unless you two are scared of getting your asses handed to you.”
Violet snorts. “Please. Will and I have been playing spades since we were twelve. You’re going down, Carmichael.”
We set up at the dining table, girls versus boys. The trash talk starts immediately.
“Just so you know,” I say, dealing the cards, “Violet and I are ruthless. We don’t believe in mercy.”
Cannon leans back in his chair, that rare grin that isn’t so rare after all stretching across his face. “Sweetheart, I was a Navy SEAL. I don’t know the meaning of the word mercy either.”
“Big words from someone who face-planted in a aerial yoga class,” Violet quips.
Bennett chokes on his water, trying not to laugh. Cannon just shakes his head, still smiling. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”
“Never,” I confirm, organizing my cards.
The game is heated. Violet and I win the first round, barely. The guys take the second. By the third round, we’re all leaning over the table, talking smack, and laughing so hard my sides hurt.
It feels normal. It feels like life before the emails, before J, before the fear crept in. For a few hours, I’m just Willow, playing cards with people I love.
Cannon’s hand finds mine under the table during a particularly tense bid. He squeezes gently, and when I look at him, his blue eyes are soft. This. This is what I needed.
We’re in the middle of the fourth round when my phone buzzes on the counter. I ignore it, focused on playing my ace of spades. If it’s Tiff, I’ll check back after this hand.
It buzzes again.
And again.
Cannon’s posture changes instantly, his body tensing. “Check it.”
I stand, my stomach already knotting as I walk to the counter. The notifications are from Instagram. Direct messages.
My hands shake as I open the app.
The first message is a photo. My gray wool sweater, the one I keep in my car for emergencies, draped over a man’s lap. The steering wheel of a vehicle is visible in the background.
You left this in your car, Willow. You should be more careful about locking your doors. -J
The second message:
I’m keeping it. It smells like you.
The third:
Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of it. Just like I’ll take good care of you.
The room tilts. I grip the counter to steady myself.
“Willow?” Cannon’s beside me in an instant, taking the phone from my hands. I watch his jaw clench as he reads, his eyes going ice cold.
“He was in my car,” I whisper. “When? How?”
Bennett’s already on his phone, calling someone. Violet wraps her arm around my waist, anchoring me.
Cannon’s typing rapidly on my phone, then on his own. “I’m sending these to Miles. And to Jake.” He looks at me, his expression deadly serious. “When was the last time you were in your car?”
My mind races. “I don’t remember. At the shop, maybe? It was locked. I know it was locked because I’ve made sure ever since the emails turned weird.”
“He probably picked the lock or has a slim jim,” Cannon says flatly.
Bennett adds, “Or he got it before then.”
Cannon pulls me against him, his hand cupping the back of my head. “Listen to me. He’s escalating. This is good.”
“Good?” My voice cracks. “How is this good?”
“Because people who escalate make mistakes. They get sloppy. Like today. We have his plate and a partial picture. And when he makes another one, I’m going to be there.” His thumb traces my cheekbone. “I promise you, Willow. This ends soon.”
Bennett hangs up. “Miles is on his way. He wants us not to touch the car until he gets here. He’s bringing a tech to dust for prints.”
I love this town. The police are taking this seriously, which isn’t guaranteed in large cities when precincts are overworked and understaffed.
A knock at the door makes us all freeze. Cannon moves instantly, positioning himself between me and the door, his hand going to his waistband where I now realize he’s carrying a weapon.
A deep voice comes from outside. “It’s Jake.”
Cannon opens the door, and the man steps inside, his expression grim but alert. “I saw him.”
Everyone starts talking at once. Jake holds up his hand.
“About twenty minutes ago. Gray SUV, four rodeo stickers on the back window, pulled into the parking lot. He circled once, slow, like he was looking for something. When he saw me at your door, he turned around and left.”
“Did you get pics?” Cannon demands.
Jake pulls out his phone, a triumphant look crossing his face. “Damn straight, I did. White male, late twenties to early thirties, dark hair, beard. I’ve already sent it to Miles.”
Cannon takes Jake’s phone, zooming in on the image. His expression is fierce, predatory. “We’ve got you now, motherfucker.”
Bennett looks at the photo over Cannon’s shoulder. “I don’t recognize him. Do you, Will?”
I study the grainy image. The angle isn’t great, but I can make out features. Dark hair, beard, sunglasses. Something nags at me, familiar but not quite placing.
“I’m not sure. Maybe?” I shake my head, frustrated. “I see so many people at the shop. He could be anyone.”
“Miles will match the face with the owner of the plates,” Violet says. “Then we’ll know.”
Cannon pulls me back against his chest, his arms wrapping around me from behind. I can feel his heart beating, steady and strong. “It’s almost over, sweetheart. I can feel it.”
I lean into him, letting his strength steady me. My phone buzzes one more time in Cannon’s hand.
Another message from 'J.'
I saw your guard dog. Smart. But not smart enough. I’ll see you soon, Willow. We have so much to talk about. -J
Cannon’s arms tighten around me. Over my head, I hear him say to Jake, his voice low and lethal. “Double the security. Nobody gets near her or Violet. Nobody.”
“Copy that,” Jake responds.
I close my eyes, breathing in Cannon’s scent, leather and cedar and safety. Tomorrow, we’ll have answers. Tomorrow, Miles will tell us who ‘J’ is.
Tomorrow, this nightmare starts to end.
But tonight, I’m surrounded by people who love me, who will fight for me. And that has to be enough.