12. Chapter Twelve
Chapter Twelve
DYLAN
I didn’t know what to expect, but being surrounded by the deafening laughter of seven women as Savannah acted out a date she’d recently been on was not it.
“Totally lame. He danced like this.” Savannah moved her body in jerky motions that made it look like she was doing a mix of the twist and the floss.
I shook my head. She was, without a doubt, nuts.
From the kitchen table where I sat with my laptop, I had a good view of them in the sunroom at the back of the house. I wasn’t eavesdropping. There was no need with how loud they were.
Hattie had been hesitant of being so out in the open but had relaxed and warmed to the idea when I explained that I had cameras that would alert me to movement anywhere around my house. I wasn’t worried as long as the women listened if I told them to move.
“Are we betting on how long it’ll take for Hattie and Detective Delicious to hook up?”
I leaned forward, intent on hearing the responses, especially Hattie’s. That was not happening, but it didn’t stop my curiosity.
“Savannah,” Hattie bit out. “Cut it out. He might be able to hear you.”
She straightened in her seat and turned, so I quickly looked down at my computer.
“Interesting. She didn’t deny that it’s a possibility. My bet is a week.” That comment was from the redhead Hattie had introduced as Rachel.
“You guys are way off base.” Hattie scoffed. “And give me more credit. I have way more self-restraint than that. Jeez.”
“Have you seen the ass on the detective?” Rachel chuckled.
I shifted, uncomfortable with where this line of conversation was going.
“A week is more than I would have given you.”
“Seriously, Savannah.” Hattie’s voice was a harsh whisper now, so I couldn’t hear what followed.
Dammit. As she spoke, I studied her. Her posture was less tense than it had been earlier, but there was a flush creeping up her face now.
My phone vibrated on the table, so, chuckling at Hattie’s clear embarrassment, I picked it up. The notification on the screen showed a text from my neighbor.
Logan: You having a party over there?
Me: I wish. All work, no play.
Logan: Maybe I’m in the wrong job, then. My gig as a firefighter has never led to having a bunch of beautiful women hanging out at my house.
Me: Half of them are married. I’m helping a friend out by watching his sister. She has a stalker.
Logan: Oh shit, you for real?
Me: You have the kids this weekend?
Logan: Nope and not on shift. Want to invite me over for a beer and introduce me to the single ones?
Teeth gritted, I glared at my phone. Hell no. I had no claim on Hattie, nor should I want to claim her, but introducing her to Logan? The idea irked me. Though…as another thought popped into my head, I couldn’t help but smirk.
Me: Sure, come on over. Savannah, the blonde dancing on the chair right now, seems like fun.
Logan: She might be too wild for me. I’m an old man now.
I scoffed. He was thirty-two, the same age as I was. We were not old. Though maybe a marriage and subsequent divorce and co-parenting two kids made Logan feel older some days.
Me: Maybe young and free is what you need.
Logan: Be right over.
Aiden’s name flashed on the screen before I could set my phone down, so I quickly accepted the call. “What’s up?”
“Talked to the manager at the gas station.”
Frustration bubbled up, and my jaw ticked. The plan had been for him to do that this morning, but then it was thrown to the back burner when the orchids were left at Hattie’s door. I wasn’t available to help at all today either, adding more to my frustration.
“Tell me you have something.”
He sighed. “Wish I could.”
I pinched my eyes closed. Not the news I wanted.
“Their surveillance system only saves a month of footage…”
“And since the phone was purchased in November, we’re screwed.” I finished for him.
“Pretty much.”
I pressed a palm to my forehead. For a moment, I just breathed and thought through what we knew so far. Straightening, I cleared my throat. “Ask him to call when another one is purchased.”
“What?”
“I blocked the number on Hattie’s phone. If he’s watching her and notices that when he sends a text, she doesn’t check her phone, he’ll catch on and want to purchase a new one.”
“That’s a long shot.”
My stomach knotted painfully. “Maybe,” I said, “but it’s what we have right now. He risked setting those flowers outside her door, so why not this? Maybe we’ll get lucky.”
“I’ll reach back out to the manager tomorrow. It wouldn’t hurt for them to keep us in the loop.”
“Thanks, man. I narrowed down the list of names Hattie and I created this morning.” After she went through the original list, I moved the ones who lived close to the top and removed those who no longer lived in the state. “Getting ready to send it over.”
From here, we’d split the names and do a deep dive into each one to see if we could connect one of them to the gas station where the burner was bought or the Toyota Corolla that had followed her last night.
“Okay. I’ll check back in tomorrow.”
Just as I ended the call, my phone buzzed with a notification from my camera app. Someone was approaching the front door. I double-checked to confirm it was Logan, then stood and strode for the front door.
HATTIE
“I hate you right now.” Savannah sighed and sat back in her chair, crossing her arms.
“Me?” What did I do? She hadn’t been upset when I changed the location of our girls’ night.
“Now there’s a second one, and he’s even hotter.” Her lips turned down into a pout.
I shifted so I could peer through the open doorway without being obvious and assessed the guy standing in Dylan’s kitchen drinking a beer. Yeah. He was good-looking. I had to give Savannah that, but in no world would I say he was hotter. The guy was tall, but Dylan had at least two inches on him. And although they were both fit, Dylan had a leaner, more defined build.
I locked eyes with Dylan, only then realizing I’d been caught checking him out. His mouth lifted into a smirk that made my cheeks flush all over again. Quickly, I turned back to the girls.
Savannah was sitting ramrod straight in her seat, grinning and beckoning the guys out here with one finger.
“What are you doing?” I whisper-yelled.
“Getting an introduction.”
Head dropped back, I groaned. Why had I thought this was a good idea?
Dylan appeared with his friend on his heels. “Did you need something?”
“Yes.” Savannah ran her tongue along her bottom lip seductively.
Irritation flared inside me. Jesus. How was I even related to her? If our parents one day told us that she had been adopted, I doubted any of us would be surprised.
Savannah nodded at the mystery man. “Wanted you to introduce me to your friend.”
Funny how she didn’t say us .
“I would love to.” Dylan broke into a Cheshire smile, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
What was he up to?
“This is Logan.” Dylan thumbed over at the guy, then pointed to my sister. “And this is Savannah.”
She scooted over and patted the spot beside her. “Come sit, Logan.”
Eyes widening, Logan glanced over at Dylan, who only smirked.
“Come on, I promise I don’t bite.” She puckered her lips into a pout. “Unless you’re into that, then I totally bite.”
The whole room erupted into groans at her shameless flirting.
“Do the rest of us not get an introduction?” I still didn’t understand why Dylan hadn’t introduced the rest of the group yet. There were very few people I was comfortable enough with to call out, and Dylan was slowly starting to fall into that category.
“No,” Savannah and Dylan said at the same time.
I narrowed my eyes at him. Why was he being rude?
He just shrugged. “The last thing you need right now is to be dating someone. Especially a single dad.”
My sister groaned. “Damn. Why are all the good ones taken, gay, or dads?”
“Savannah,” I scolded, even though Logan chuckled at her saltiness.
She shrugged. “I’m not really mom material. You know that.”
I rolled my eyes. That was a lie. She used it to keep from having to grow up and settle down. A classic case of Peter Pan syndrome.
I spun in my seat and shot Dylan a glare. “I didn’t mean to date. I meant you should be polite and introduce all of us, since Savannah isn’t the only one sitting here.”
He crossed his arms, cocking an eyebrow.
“I already know Logan,” Cece chirped. “Sarah does too.”
Although Sarah had stayed home with her daughter, who wasn’t feeling well, Cece had left her baby home with Owen.
Savannah perked up. “Wait, is he one of your dad’s hot firefighters?”
Cece’s eyes popped wide. “Umm, he is one of the firefighters. Not commenting on the hot part.”
Dylan tipped his head in my direction. “That’s Hattie Williams. You know her brother Kyle.”
Logan nodded. “I thought you looked familiar.”
I smiled and waved. My brother was a paramedic and had been working at Half Moon Lake FD for over a year now. He’d dealt with some demons after being discharged from the military, but he’d eventually found not only a passion, but also his wife Tina and her kids.
Once Dylan had introduced Brittney, Rachel, and Kelly, we fell into easy conversation. Savannah, of course, continued to shamelessly flirt with Logan throughout the evening.
Hmm. Did this mean she’d break her no dating dads rule?
Feeling the weight of a gaze, I scanned the group, eventually finding Dylan watching me. I shifted uncomfortably and glanced away. The intensity with which he studied me was palpable. It was strange, to be under such scrutiny. Sure, if I were in distress, my family and friends would pick up on it, but more often than not, I had no trouble quietly sneaking away without garnering any attention. Not with Dylan, though. Every time I moved, his gaze would zero in on me again.
After another round of margaritas, Savannah bounced in her seat. “Let’s play Put a Finger Down.”
I groaned. “We’re not sixteen anymore.”
“Don’t even.” She shot daggers at me. “We played this last summer, and you weren’t complaining then.”
“I was drunk and figured it was easier to just go along with it.”
“Perfect.” With a smirk, she held her hand up, fingers splayed. “Go along with it this time too.”
The girls all followed suit. The men did not.
Savannah raised a brow at Logan.
“I’m too old for this.” He shook his head.
Dylan sat back in his seat and crossed his arms. He obviously thought this was stupid too.
“Age is just a number.” My sister scoffed. “But whatever. Okay. Put a finger down if you’ve had sex in the last three months.”
Of all the women here, I was the only one who didn’t put a finger down. Shit. Grinning, Brittney elbowed me, and heat flooded my face. God, I hated my sister right now.
We went around the circle, each naming a Put a Finger Down question. I had two fingers left.
“Put a finger down,” Cece said, “if you’ve ever had a one-night stand.”
And again, I was the only one in the group who’d never had that experience. One more round, and it was Savannah’s turn again.
“Put a finger down if you’ve ever wanted to bang one of your brother’s best friends.” She smirked at me as she put another finger down.
Jesus. Why did she insist on making me want to punch her? I put my hand down, officially done with this stupid game.
But I immediately wished I hadn’t when Savannah waggled her brows in Dylan’s direction and mouthed so what are you going to do about that?
“Savannah,” Brittney scolded.
I glared at my sister, refusing to look over at Dylan, even though I could feel his gaze on me.
“On that note,” Cece said as she stood. “It’s late. We should probably call it a night.”
“Yeah, I think my sister has had enough of me for one night.” Savannah bounced to her feet, grinning.
“Yep.” I sent her a smile that clearly conveyed my desire to strangle her.
We cleaned up, taking our glasses into the kitchen, and one by one, the girls headed out, with Logan leaving a minute later. I was exhausted but figured I should clean up a bit since Dylan had so generously offered his house for our gathering. Barely keeping my eyes open, I loaded the glasses into the dishwasher. As I turned away from the counter, that sensation hit me again. His eyes were on me. A shiver raced down my spine as I spun to face him.
“You look tired. You should head to bed.”
The spark of excitement morphed into annoyance instantly. Of course he’d have to open his mouth and remind me that he was a bossy asshole.
I held back an eye roll. “Yes, Dad.”
He smirked and turned back to his computer. “Just an observation.”
“Aren’t you coming to bed too?”
His spine visibly stiffened.
My stomach twisted as I replayed the words in my head. Oh god. “I-I mean,” I sputtered, “are you going to bed? Like are you not heading to bed yourself?” There, that was much better. Not awkward or weird.
“Yeah, in a bit. Want to go through some of these names first.” He kept his focus fixed on his computer.
“Okay.” I shrugged. “Good night.”
“Night.”
I’d made it up three steps before a muttered curse from Dylan had me freezing. The legs of his chair scraped across the floor, then his low voice rumbled through the room and up the stairs.
“How the hell did he get near her apartment again without being seen?”
My heart lurched. I turned around, wishing I could hear the other side of the conversation. Was he talking about my apartment? Maybe not. Not everything was about me. He was probably working on other cases.
“No, she went to bed. She can’t hear me.” The second the words were out of his mouth, he turned and spotted me where I was hovering on the staircase. His shoulders fell. “Aiden, let me call you back.”
“What happened?” I scurried back down to the kitchen, my heart in my throat.
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “He spray-painted slut on your apartment door.”
Wow. Clearly Dylan couldn’t sugarcoat a thing, even if he tried. Though I guess I couldn’t blame him for going with the rip-the-Band-Aid off approach.
“How?” I blinked, trying to find better words, but they escaped me.
He shrugged. “That’s what I was trying to find out. My guess is that Aiden had someone driving by, but not actively checking the apartment.”
I balled my hands into fists at my side, hating all of it. Not only the fear of someone watching me, but everyone else who had to watch me too. Having police circling my apartment, needing a babysitter. It was like, in one fell swoop, this stalker had taken away all my privacy. But the only way to stop it was to let Dylan and Aiden do their jobs.
I nodded. “Okay.” This wasn’t going to end until this psycho was caught.
“Hattie…” Dylan started.
I raised a hand. “I’m fine.” Or I was going to make myself be.
He scoffed. “Fine never means fine.”
With a shrug, I turned and made my way upstairs without looking back. Fine was all I could give him right now. Though if I was being honest, none of this was fine.
He knew it too.
I wish I could say that the moment my head hit the pillow, I was passed out, but for a long time after I crawled into bed, my thoughts continued to whirl. I cycled between the fear of how easily this guy was getting around the police and to my apartment and the frustration that because he could do that, I wasn’t even allowed to be home.
I closed my eyes, praying sleep would come.
I stood in an open field without a single familiar landmark. Was I dreaming?
A figure cloaked in black approached me, calling out my name, beckoning me to him. No. He wouldn’t get me. I would fight. Turning, I sprinted into the dark woods, running as fast as I could but feeling like the ground under me was moving in the opposite direction.
Feeling as though I was getting nowhere, I glanced over my shoulder to find that the faceless man was closing in quickly. As I turned, determined to pick up my pace, he grabbed my arm.
I pushed and pushed against him, flinging my arms to loosen his grasp and screaming out for help.
Finally, Dylan’s voice broke through the darkness.
Relief washed over me. Dylan was here. He’d save me.
“Hattie, wake up. Need you to wake up.”
Startling, I opened my eyes. With shaky breaths, I blinked the scene in front of me into focus. Dylan. He was hovering above me, his lips turned down in a concerned frown.
“If I let go, will you promise not to punch me again?”
Only then did I realize that he had my arms pinned to the mattress on either side of me.
I nodded. Had I actually hit him?
The small lamp on the nightstand was on, but the room was still cast in shadows. With a sigh, he let go of my wrists and sat on the edge of the bed.
“I punched you?” I raised up on one elbow, scanning his face to make sure I hadn’t really hurt him. The guy had enough to deal with already. He didn’t need a fat lip or a black eye too.
He smirked, his face looking unscathed and perfect as always. “Yeah, and I’m pretty sure you enjoyed it.”
“You can be a bossy ass.” Although I had to admit, his assertiveness was comforting at times.
“Remind me to thank Kyle or Rhett the next time I see them.”
I tilted my head. “Why?”
“For teaching you how to throw a mean right hook.” He rubbed the left side of his jaw. Drama king. It didn’t even look red. “Want a cup of tea or warm milk?”
I grimaced. “I never understood the warm milk thing. It’s disgusting.”
He shrugged. “I prefer whiskey.”
“That sounds good.”
“I make a decent hot toddy. Want one?”
“Sure.” I sat up and let the sheet drop to my waist.
Rather than standing and heading to the kitchen, he remained frozen, his gaze zeroing in on my chest. I glanced down and cursed. Once again, I was wearing a thin tank and no bra. I yanked the sheet back up and let out a huff.
He stood abruptly and turned toward the door. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”
Then he was gone, and I fell back against my pillow, struggling to find my breath again.