Chapter 26
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Tension gripped Freya’s shoulders as Xander pulled into a driveway that was about half a mile down the road from his.
They’d left her apartment with Xander driving her in her rental and Wilson following behind in his Range Rover, which was nearly identical to Xander’s.
Apparently, Hudson Security had a fleet of eight armored SUVs—all black Range Rovers—which seemed like quite the job perk.
Until he’d mentioned that all the vehicles were fully armored.
What that exactly entailed, she wasn’t quite sure, but it sent a bolt of unease through her.
It was a reminder that what Xander did was dangerous, and the thought of him putting himself in more danger because of her didn’t sit right.
As he led her from the rental car into the house, nerves sprang anew in her stomach. Not only from the thought of rehashing the worst day of her life, but also from meeting more of Xander’s friends.
“Oh good, you guys are here,” a familiar-looking brunette said as they entered the main room.
The petite woman was seated at the end of a rectangular dining table with two giant men occupying the chairs on either side of her.
She waved toward the kitchen. “Gavin made some chicken stuff if you two are hungry.”
Xander glanced down at her. “Want me to grab you some food?”
Her stomach turned. Food was the last thing on her mind. “No, thanks. But if you’re hungry, go ahead and—”
“I’m good.” With his hand at the small of her back, he nudged her toward the dining table, and she quickly glanced around.
Xander was right, this place was a larger version of his.
However, where Xander’s giant television sat in his living room, here it was a mammoth workstation with an intimidating number of screens.
“I’m Bean,” the woman said with a wave, pulling Freya’s attention back from the computer setup. “Wait, we’ve met before, haven’t we?”
“We have.” Freya nodded, trying to place the woman.
“Ah, I did your hair about a month or so ago. You were going to a charity event, I believe.” She quickly racked her brain for what she knew of the woman—from when she’d done her hair and from what she’d been told by Xander.
And just like that, nerves bloomed. Because this unassuming, delicate-looking woman was, in reality, formidable.
Small talk, Freya. It’s what you do. So what if the woman’s a bona fide genius?
“Xander tells me you’re in charge of the company’s cybersecurity.
I believe his words were ‘brilliant’ and ‘game-changer.’”
In her line of work, Freya had learned that compliments never hurt.
The woman beamed. “Oh, did he now?” Bean turned her smile toward Xander. “I knew you were my favorite.”
“Oh good God, don’t get her started,” the man to Bean’s left grumbled before lifting his chin. “Gavin Frazier. Nice to meet you.”
“You too,” she replied as Gavin shot Bean a wink. “Thank you for helping—”
“Good to see you again, Freya,” a woman’s voice called out.
Frowning, Freya glanced around, but Bean was the only other woman in the room.
“Over there,” Bean said, pointing to an open laptop that sat at the opposite end of the table.
She smiled when Esme and Tash waved from separate boxes on the screen. “It’s good to see you both again.”
“Wish it was under better circumstances, though,” Tash said.
The man seated to Bean’s left rose and turned to her with his hand extended. “Matt Alvarez.”
“Nice to meet you,” she said, shaking his enormous hand. The guy was just as tall as Xander, but even more muscular, and he had jet-black hair and tanned skin. The wave of intensity that he emitted was beyond intimidating.
“He’s Daisy’s dad,” Xander said, pulling out the chair beside Alvarez and gesturing for her to sit.
“Daisy said she invited you to her birthday party.” Alvarez shot her a bright smile that nearly had her jaw dropping.
Holy crap, the guy’s smile transformed him. In one second, he’d gone from a tough-looking badass you’d be afraid to run into in a dark alley to an obviously doting father who was completely enamored by their child.
Freya’s shoulders relaxed, and she grinned back at him. “She did. We met over ice cream last week. For the record, Daisy is an absolute darling.”
“That she is, and she knows it too.” Alvarez chuckled. “If you can make it to her party, I know she’ll be thrilled to have you there. She was excited that ‘Xandy’s friend’ liked ice cream and had black hair and blue eyes like her and her mama. I mean, no pressure or anything.”
“Oh, I’m in,” Freya said, smiling. “I work on Saturday, but Xander said it’s at five, so I should be done by then.”
“Great,” Alvarez said. “And you don’t need to bring a gift or anything.”
“Too late,” Xander said. “We picked up Daisy’s gifts when we were in Coupeville yesterday.”
“Speaking of which,” Wilson said as he entered the room, took the seat beside Gavin, and placed the white mailing envelope on the table. “Someone had eyes on them.”
“And there goes the kumbaya,” Tash muttered.
After taking a pair of gloves from Wilson, Gavin opened the envelope, pulled out the photos, and spread them out on the table.
Her stomach clenched, and she sucked in a breath.
Gavin’s gaze swung to her. “Fuck. You haven’t seen them yet?”
Taking in the photos, she gave a slight shake of her head. “It’s fine.”
She rose and rounded the table to stand beside Gavin. Xander was immediately beside her, his hand warm on her lower back as he instructed Gavin to rearrange the photos so they were chronological.
Eight photos in total.
The first two were of them on the sidewalk watching the parade—well, she was watching. Xander had his sunglasses on, but the photos captured a tension in him, as if he were looking around for something. Or someone.
The next was of them entering the toy store, and then of them leaving the store with bags in hand.
The last four had her stomach turning. They were after she’d fallen. Two were with her on the ground, and two after Xander had helped her to her feet. In all of them, both of their faces had been violently scratched out, the black pen digging through the photo paper.
“Well fuck, Xan,” Gavin murmured. “Someone’s not happy with the two of you.”
“The marks are similar to photos Freya has received in the past.” Xander glanced at her.
Nodding, she rounded the table and retrieved the blue box from the tote bag she’d left by her chair. Setting the box on the table, she hesitated as she lifted the lid. “Do I need gloves?”
“You’re good,” Alvarez said as he donned a pair of black gloves. “Chances of getting prints are low, but yours are already on them.”
A rock formed in her gut as the members of Hudson Security carefully picked through the envelopes in the box.
Years of painful memories bombarded her, making it hard to swallow.
“They’re in reverse chronological order,” she said, her voice suddenly scratchy.
“The photos were fine until three years ago. That was the ten-year anniversary of the car accident . . .”
Strong arms wrapped around her from behind. She closed her eyes when Xander’s lips pressed against the top of her head. She sank into him, grateful for his comfort. The rock in her gut grew, and her breaths became labored.
Glancing up at him, she fought back tears and shook her head. “I can’t. I’m sorry, but I can’t.”
The tears shimmering in her eyes slayed him. Absolutely destroyed him.
He cupped her jaw and ran his thumb over her cheek. Then he sat back into his chair and pulled her across his lap.
“I’ve got you, baby,” he murmured into her ear. “Do you want me to tell them what happened?”
She nodded, trembling in his arms.
Aware his teammates—his family—were watching them, he cleared his throat and tightened his hold on Freya. He recognized their expressions. Concern and determination.
Over the next twenty minutes, he recapped Freya’s story.
From her parents passing and her oldest brother taking over her guardianship, to the car accident and her best friend’s death.
From the photos that continued to follow her year after year, to her car getting broken into at the resort, and finally to her getting pushed down at the parade.
As he spoke, Freya slowly relaxed in his arms. Soon, she began interjecting and clarifying points here and there. By the time they spoke of the photos arriving at her door earlier this evening, her tremors had stopped. He was damn thankful for that, and damn thankful for his team.
With the exception of Bean, he’d witnessed each and every one of them interrogate people who were the dredges of humanity—fucking god-awful people—so he knew his teammates could be intimidating and scary as fuck.
But the gentleness and care they’d shown Freya when they’d asked their questions? He’d never forget it. Ever.
Xander gestured to the photos on the table, which now included the ones from the last three years. “I mean, I’m not reaching, am I? It’s connected. The scratched-out markings have a similar feel.”
“I agree,” Frazier said, leaning back in his chair. “The cars that were vandalized at the resort were all the same make, model, and color. So maybe whoever this was, wasn’t sure which car was yours.”
“I’d venture to guess they also didn’t know you’d moved until recently,” Alvarez said, glancing down at his notes.
“You moved to Hudson Island on October first and wisely kept it quiet. The anniversary of the car accident is October twenty-sixth and the postmark from the envelope is October twentieth to your old address. It got lost in the mail, and I think it’s pure coincidence that it arrived to your work when it did.
However, these photos . . .” He gestured to the newest ones on the table.
“These were dropped at your apartment. So the question is, how did they find you?”
For a few moments, the room was silent.