Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
The scream caught in her throat. She couldn’t breathe. Her heart seemed to be clawing its way out of her chest as a ring of darkness closed in on her vision. Finally, she let out a strangled sound.
“Raleigh? Are you okay?”
Dylan’s voice seemed to be coming from a great distance. The huge stone that seemed to be blocking her throat wouldn’t budge enough for her to respond. Her field of vision shrank until all she saw was the red, red rose.
She slipped toward the floor and then she was floating. What was going on?
“I’ve got you. I’m going to put you on the bed, okay?”
No! She screamed it in her head, but she only managed to make a sort of mewling noise out loud.
Dylan’s strong arms around her dislodged the boulder blocking her windpipe and she drew in a long, deep breath, trying to calm herself enough to speak.
Her vision brightened suddenly, and the world, which had been spinning, came to a crashing halt.
“No! Not on the bed,” she rasped out. “Take me to the other room.” She looked up at him. “Please.”
He nodded and carried her into his room. He attempted to put her on the bed, but she couldn’t make her hands let go of his shirt. She’d fisted the front—something she had no memory of doing—and now she couldn’t seem to control her hands enough to make them let go.
Dylan sat down on the bed with her in his lap.
“It’s okay, Raleigh. I’ve got you. Just keep taking deep, slow breaths.
” His calmness grounded her. He kept speaking quietly in a firm tone, telling her she was ok, telling her to breathe.
The deep cadence of his voice washed over her and soothe her nerves.
A minute later, she was able to breathe normally.
She struggled to sit on her own, but Dylan held her tightly.
“What happened?” he asked, his eyes full of concern.
“I saw—” Her breath hitched in her throat.
She closed her eyes for a second and then started again.
“There’s a red rose in the vase in my room.
It wasn’t there earlier today. It’s m-m-m-my stalker.
H-h-he’s here.” She bit her lip as her eyes filled with tears.
Dylan’s arms immediately tightened around her.
He looked quickly about the room, but it was obviously empty except for the two of them.
“Okay. I’m going to set you on the bed and go take a look at your room. I already checked the rest of the cabin. No one else is here.”
“No!” she yelled. She bit her lip again and tried to calm down. “Please. I don’t want to be alone.”
He looked at her and then nodded. “Okay. Come with me but stay behind me. Your stalker is gone but I want to check it out.”
She nodded once, and he gently shifted her off his lap and onto her feet. An immediate sense of loss filled her. She was safe in his arms, and she knew it.
She followed him over to the doorway. “Where’s your gun?” she whispered.
He glanced back at her. “I’m on desk duty. I don’t carry my gun with me all the time and I didn’t think I would need one.” Guilt danced across his features. So he still didn’t believe her about the stalker.
She leaned on the wall and screamed a string of obscenities in her head. What else did he need for proof? She asked for help, and all she got was his doubt. She blinked back tears as her hands curled into fists. She just wanted her life back.
“You know what? Why don’t you come sit in the kitchen. I’ve already checked it. You saw me. It’s safe. I’ll take a look around your room on my own. Sound like a plan?”
Nursing her anger, which was way better than fear, she nodded and followed him down the hall.
He walked over and grabbed the electric kettle. He filled it with water and then plugged it in. “Can you try to relax? I’ll check out the bedroom to see if he left anything else behind. Then I’ll get right back here. One minute, tops.”
She walked over to the stool and sat down hard. When he reached the doorway, he turned back to look at her. “We should call hotel security.”
“No! No way! If Lydia finds out about the stalker, she’ll blame me for bringing him to the wedding and I’ll get fired.”
“Raleigh, the cabin was broken into. We have to report it. I’ll make sure to ask the security guys to be very discrete. They usually are anyway. It’s their job.”
“Dylan, I really don’t want to be looked at like I’m crazy by more security men.” She blinked hard to stop the tears pooling in her eyes from rolling down her cheeks.
“I get it. I really do but they might have cameras. That will help us find out who this guy is. I know you want to catch him. This could be the best way to get him.”
Her shoulders slumped and she nodded. Her limbs felt like they weighed a thousand pounds each. She just wanted her life back. Was that too much to ask?
“I’m going to call them and then check your room. I’ll be right back. The front door is locked and chained. You’ll be fine here, okay?”
She nodded again. She could do this. She took a deep breath as she watched him disappear around the corner.
Her hands trembled like leaves in the wind.
She slipped off the stool when the kettle boiled and scanned the tea options.
There were a few packages of Chamomile in one of the drawers.
Although she hated the taste, she was willing to drink anything that had calming properties.
She needed all the help she could get.
Dylan walked back into the room. His face was blank. Gone was the concern he’d shown her earlier.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” Her hands began to shake again. She couldn’t take anything else happening tonight. She slumped against the island.
“Tell me what happened when you walked into the room,” he said as he sat on a stool.
She looked across the counter at him. “What do you mean, what happened? I walked over the threshold and immediately saw the vase with the red rose in the middle of it. I—I panicked, I guess. I thought I’d be safe here.
I thought… I don’t know what I thought, but I didn’t think he would follow me here.
” She shook her head. “I was starting to relax a bit, so the rose took me by surprise. My throat, I—I couldn’t scream.
I froze, I guess. I passed out, or at least started to, and you caught me. ”
“How far into the room did you go?” His voice was flat, business-like.
“I don’t know. I didn’t move after I saw the flower. I couldn’t.” A shudder shook her whole body. “I guess I only went as far as I was standing when you caught me.”
“So right inside the door?”
“What is this all about? What’s going on?” she demanded.
He stared at her for a long minute. “Come with me.” His tone was still flat.
He seemed almost angry. What the hell? She was the one whose stalker just showed up.
What did he have to be angry about? She followed him down the hallway to the room.
Dread flooded her body as she got closer.
She grabbed onto the doorjamb for support, her eyes on Dylan who was well into the room, standing in front of the nightstand.
“What?” she croaked. Her throat was dry as the desert.
He pointed to the floor beside the bed. She looked down. At first, she couldn’t see what he was pointing at. She had to take another step into the room before she saw it. Her scarf. The one she’d put on before leaving the room earlier. The edge of it was peeking out from underneath the bed.
“But I had it with me. I-I put it on the back of my chair. I forgot I’d even worn it.
” She looked at the scarf again, perplexed.
Then it dawned on her. Her breath came in gasps.
She wobbled on her feet and grabbed blindly for something to hang on to, staggering for a couple of steps before Dylan gripped her arms.
“He was there tonight. In the dining room. He took the scarf from the back of my chair.” Her teeth were chattering now. “I—” She couldn’t get the words out. “He was standing next to m-m-me.” She gasped for breath again. “H-h-he could’ve t-t-touched me.” Oh God, she was going to be sick.
Dylan must have recognized there was a problem because he rushed her into the bathroom. Her knees had barely hit the cold marble floor before she became violently ill.
While she retched, she registered Dylan’s hand on her spine. Mortified, she just wanted to curl up and die on the floor of the bathroom, but Dylan handed her a warm face cloth and helped her up off the floor. He then left the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
She closed her eyes and slid down the wall to form a puddle on the floor. Her body started shaking.
He’s here.
Her one weekend away from the horror of it—or so she’d thought—and he’d followed her.
Dylan was supposed to keep her safe. It was part of the deal.
Now she was trapped at this luxury get-away with her stalker, and she couldn’t leave until the weekend was over.
Her worst nightmare, but she was wide awake.
Her stomach churned, and the queasiness returned. How was it possible to be sick again after not eating a damn thing since breakfast this morning? She turned her face. The cool wall tile helped clear the clammy sweat from her face. The nausea eased.
There was a soft knock on the door. “Are you okay?”
No, she was most decidedly not okay. She was sick. She was tired. And she was terrified. She caught her reflection on the glass shower door. She looked like hell.
“I’ll be out in a minute,” she croaked. Standing up she leaned over and turned on the water.
She rinsed the face cloth in cold water and pressed it to her face for a moment.
The coolness helped ground her. Setting the compress aside on the sink, she brushed her teeth for a solid two minutes before leaving the room.
Dylan was leaning against the dresser in her room, texting on his phone. He straightened when she paused in the doorway. “How are you?” he asked