Chapter 2 #2
“It could’ve been nothing,” she added finally, barely above a whisper. She’d no doubt tried talking herself out of her fear, not wanting to be called crazy. “But it didn’t feel like nothing.”
Aaron didn’t interrupt. He didn’t rush her or pepper her with questions. He just listened. He let her have the air space.
He watched the way her shoulders stayed rigid, like she couldn’t quite let herself relax even here, behind locked doors and reinforced glass. That flicker in her eyes, that constant awareness, told him more than her words ever could.
She’d been scared and she was used to being scared.
Everyone who worked on campus knew that.
Aaron had seen that look many times before.
On victims too used to not being believed.
On women who had been through so much they sensed danger in the shift of shadows.
It wasn’t the wide-eyed panic of someone reacting to a single bad scare, but something older.
Deeper. The kind of fear that came from repetition.
This wasn’t paranoia. This wasn’t her being overly cautious.
This was survival, and she was damn good at it at this point.
Even though she shouldn’t have to be.
“You did the right thing coming here,” he said at last when she went silent. He kept his voice low and even. Then he added what he knew she needed to hear. “I believe you.”
Her eyes met his then, wide and glassy with unshed emotion. Like maybe that was the one thing she hadn’t expected to hear, and the only thing she needed.
“Did you happen to see the license plate?” he asked when she relaxed a little.
She looked down at the bottle of water in her hand. “Maybe I…” She closed her eyes and then shook her head. “I was too stupid.”
“You’re not.” His voice was firm now. “Don’t say that. You were scared. Not stupid. If your gut says something’s off, follow it every single time. I’ll check the cameras. Maybe we’ll get lucky and see the car and be able to read the plates.”
For a moment, she didn’t respond. Then she gave him a small, tired nod.
Aaron would review the footage later, once she’d had a chance to catch her breath.
Once she was gone and didn’t feel the weight of his concern pressing too close.
But for now, he stayed exactly where he was, grounded, steady, present.
Because sometimes, silence was the only real comfort a person could offer.
And he had the feeling Beth hadn’t had much of that.
He didn’t know all of Beth’s story, only fragments passed around by staff, enough to piece together that her ex, Ian, obviously didn’t know how to let go.
Aaron knew Ian personally. He had served with him back when they were both fresh out of the police academy.
They had been young and trying to prove something to the world.
Even then, Ian had worn his badge like a weapon and his charm like armor.
The man knew how to smile when people were watching and how to intimidate others when they weren’t.
Aaron had seen it firsthand. The flashes of temper just beneath the surface. The loss of control. The ego. It had taken him all of five minutes to know that he didn’t trust the guy, and not much longer to see that Ian didn’t like being questioned and not trusted.
Maybe it was Aaron’s own history that had sharpened his instincts and made him sensitive to the shadows people hid behind.
Or maybe he’d just spent too many years looking past uniforms and good reputations, learning the hard way that darkness didn’t always wear a mask.
Sometimes, it wore a smile. Sometimes, it called you brother.
He didn’t need to know every detail of what Ian had done to Beth to understand the damage that he’d done to her.
It was in the way she sat like she was braced for impact.
In the way her eyes never stopped scanning the room.
The way her fingers still clenched that water bottle because it was at least something solid to hold on to.
And that was all he needed to know.
She was here. She was scared. And someone needed to make damn sure that she stayed safe.
Aaron could do that.
He would do that.
Even if it meant facing some of the old shadows he’d worked hard to avoid himself.
Once Beth’s breathing had evened out and the water bottle sat empty on the desk between them, Aaron quietly stood.
“Are you hungry?” He kept his tone casual, easy. “I know you just ate lunch with Julie, but they have really good pie today in the cafeteria.”
Beth hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. I could go for a slice of Isaac’s pie.” She visibly relaxed.
He didn’t make a big deal out of it. Just offered his hand to help her up, and when she didn’t take it, he gave her space, walking a step ahead as they exited the security building.
The sun was already arcing lower in the sky, the warmth of the afternoon shifting into that golden, hazy stretch of pre-evening that made the Spanish moss look like it was glowing.
A few guests wandered by on cruiser bikes, laughing as they balanced beach bags and shopping bags from the gift shop on their handlebars.
Normal. Peaceful. Safe.
He wanted her to feel that.
Inside the employee dining room, the air was cooler, the hum of the fridge blending with distant kitchen clatter. A small round table near the back was empty, so he led her to it. He grabbed himself a large slice of chocolate pie while she’d gone for the classic apple with ice cream.
She smiled softly. “I dream of having this every night for the rest of my life.”
He chuckled. “People order the pies and have them shipped home.”
She nodded. “I know. We should add them to the shop or try to get them in the local grocery stores.” She smiled at him and, for the first time since she’d arrived, she really relaxed.
They were halfway through their food when the door to the adjoining staff offices opened, and Zoey stepped through with Elle on her heels. Both women were holding tablets, clearly in the middle of a meeting. But the moment Zoey saw Beth, her brows pinched.
“Hey,” she said, veering towards them. “Everything okay? I thought you had today off.”
Beth set her fork down and wiped her hands on a napkin.
“Yeah, I do. I just…” She glanced at Aaron, then back at the two women.
“There was a car. It followed me after my lunch with Julie. I don’t know for sure if it was him, but.
.. it didn’t feel right. So, I ended up here.
Thankfully, Aaron was in the parking lot and must have scared him off. ”
Aaron’s jaw tensed. He’d only really scared him off if he didn’t plan to return.
Zoey’s expression darkened instantly. She didn’t ask who Beth meant. She didn’t need to. “What did the car look like?”
Aaron spoke up. “Black four-door sedan. She couldn’t see the plates. It had tinted windows. I’ll check the parking lot footage to see if it shows up on any of the road cams.”
“I’ll let the front gate know to stay alert,” Elle added, her voice already crisp with focus as she pulled out her walkie-talkie.
“Already done,” he said quickly.
“Then I’ll update the watchlist to be on the lookout,” Elle added with a nod.
Zoey leaned against the table, meeting Beth’s eyes. “We’ve got you, honey.”
Beth nodded slowly, emotion flickering across her face again. Only this time it was gratitude mixed with exhaustion, and maybe a little relief.
“I’ll walk her back to her car later if she needs to go anywhere,” Zoey said to Aaron, straightening again. “She can crash in my office for a bit if she wants to avoid going home right away.”
Aaron nodded. “Thanks. I’ll be back in my office pulling footage. If anything shows up, I’ll loop Brett in when I meet him back at the office.”
“I’ve got her,” Zoey said, sitting down next to Beth.
“Thanks,” Aaron said, already pulling his walkie-talkie from his pocket and standing up to go. “Don’t go out to the parking lot alone. Find me if someone else can’t walk you out.”
Beth nodded as Elle sat down in the booth in his spot. “We’ll have our meeting here,” Elle said with a smiled aimed at Beth. “If that’s okay?”
Beth nodded.
“I’ll update you if I see anything we can use,” Aaron said. “You’re good here?” he asked Beth.
She looked up at him, her eyes steadier than before. “Yeah. Thanks.”
He nodded slightly and headed out the door. Stepping into the heat of the day, he got Brett on the walkie-talkie as he crossed the path towards the security office.
He kept his eyes moving, scanning tree lines, rooftops, and everyone who passed him. It wasn’t paranoia. It was training. And right now, it felt oddly personal.