Chapter Eight
Cody
The days at the ranch settled into a rhythm that felt dangerously close to normal.
Cody wrote music. Reid ran security operations from his office.
They cooked together, took walks along the perimeter trail, and spent evenings on the couch talking about everything and nothing before heading upstairs to make love.
The bond between them deepened with each passing day, a steady pulse of connection that Cody had stopped questioning and started relying on.
Two weeks after Diane’s last call, Cody was sitting on the back porch with his guitar, working through a bridge that wasn’t quite right, when Reid came out with two mugs of coffee.
“You’ve been out here for three hours,” Reid said, handing him a mug.
“Has it been that long?”
“Your coffee went cold twice. I gave up reheating it and made you a fresh one.”
Cody smiled and took the mug. Reid sat beside him, close enough that their shoulders touched, and they watched the mountains in silence. The afternoon light was gold and soft, painting everything warm.
“I want to take a photo,” Cody said suddenly.
Reid glanced at him. “Of what?”
“Of us. Here. Right now.” Cody pulled out his phone. “I haven’t posted anything on my socials in weeks. My fans think I’ve disappeared off the face of the earth.”
Reid’s expression shifted, cautious but not controlling. “Are you sure?”
“I’m not going to hide forever, Reid. This is my life. You’re a part of that life now. I want people to see that I’m okay, and that I’m happy.” He stood then pulled Reid up to his feet before turning and prompting Reid to do the same. Then he leaned into Reid’s side and held up his phone.
“You don’t even have to show your face if you don’t want to. Just your arm around me with the mountains behind us.”
Reid considered for a moment, then pulled Cody closer and leaning the side of his head down against Cody’s. “Take the photo.”
Cody grinned at his mate and took it. In the image, he was smiling, genuinely smiling, the mountains stretching out behind them. Reid’s arm was around his shoulders, and he was smiling too. Cody’s breath caught in his chest as he stared at it. The photograph was perfect.
He pulled up his socials then posted the image with a simple caption: Home.
Within an hour, the post had thousands of likes. His inbox flooded with messages from fans, friends, fellow musicians. It seemed that the world was glad to see him again.
Cody felt lighter than he had in months.
* * *
Several days had passed since Cody had posted the image of him and Reid and the response had been great.
Mostly. He’d seen a couple of nasty comments about his sexual orientation, but he’d anticipated those.
Overall people had been positive and the overwhelming response was that he looked happy and that he should share more photos.
He was sitting outside on the porch again, his head resting back on the house, turning over a new song lyric in his mind when a flash of something caught his attention.
He lowered his guitar slowly.
“Reid?”
No answer.
The feeling crept up his spine first. That same wrongness from the concerts and his hotel when the snick of the door closing had woken him up.
That same uneasy feeling that someone was watching him.
Cody sat up straighter then turned toward the tree line and scanned the trees. At first, he saw nothing.
Then—
Movement.
It was just a subtle shift. A shadow where there hadn’t been one before. It was too far away for Cody to make out details, but he knew he was being watched. Then Cody saw a man standing between the trees.
His breath caught. “Reid!”
The name came out sharp, instinctive.
The figure didn’t move closer.
Didn’t run.
Just stood there.
Watching.
Then—
Gone.
Not fast or panicked. Just… gone. Like he’d stepped backward into the trees and dissolved into them.
Reid was there a second later.
“What’s—”
“Someone was there,” Cody said, pointing. “In the trees. He was watching me.”
Reid didn’t question it. He didn’t hesitate.
He was already moving. By the time Cody put his guitar down and started running after him, Reid was halfway across the pasture, body shifting into something more predatory with every step.
When he reached the tree line, he slowed.
Then stopped. He crouched down and pressed into the earth.
His head tilted slightly, like he was listening to something Cody couldn’t hear or smelling something Cody couldn’t.
“Reid?” Cody said, quieter now.
Reid didn’t answer immediately. When he did, his voice was different. Lower.
Controlled too tightly.
“He was here.”
He turned, eyes sweeping toward the road beyond the property. He lifted his chin and scented the air.
“I’ve got a trail,” he said. “It’s faint, but it’s there.”
When he started moving, Cody followed him, his pulse pounding.
Reid took long strides and moved so fast that Cody had trouble keeping up with him.
He didn’t speak, just followed silently and let Reid do what he was so obviously good at.
He followed him out to the edge of the property line until they hit the road and Reid finally stopped.
Cody knew what he was about to say before Reid had even opened his mouth.
“He had a vehicle waiting,” Reid said. “The scent cuts clean here. He got in it and left.”
Cody wrapped his arms around himself. “So he was just… watching me? How the hell did he find me here?”
Reid’s brow snapped together. “I don’t know.”
“Reid…”
Reid stepped closer, settling his hands on Cody’s shoulders like he needed to confirm he was still there, and that he was safe.
“He shouldn’t have been able to find you here,” Reid said. “No one should. No one knows you’re here.”
“Then how did he?”
Reid didn’t answer, couldn’t answer, because he didn’t know. By the time they got back to the house, the silence felt different. Heavier. Like something had shifted while they were gone.
Cody barely made it through the front door before his cellphone rang. The sound of it cut through the tension like a blade. It was Diane.
He answered immediately. “Diane?”
“Cody—” Her voice was tight. Controlled in a way that meant it absolutely wasn’t. “I need you to stay calm.”
His stomach dropped. “That’s not a great start.”
Reid was already watching him, sharp and alert and Cody was fairly certain he could also hear what Diane was saying.
“What’s wrong?” Cody asked.
“There was a break-in,” Diane said.
Everything inside Cody went still. “Where?”
“At my office. I just realized. I wasn’t going to go in today, I was planning on working from home, but then I remembered I’d left some paperwork there that I needed…”
Cody’s grip tightened on the phone. “Was anything taken?”
“No.” Diane paused. “That’s the problem.”
Reid moved closer, close enough that Cody could feel the heat of him, hear the shift in his breathing.
“What do you mean, that’s the problem?” Cody asked.
“They didn’t take anything,” Diane said. “They went through files. Opened drawers. Moved things around.” Her voice dropped. “And they left something behind.”
Cody’s pulse started to pound. “What?”
“A letter.”
Of course.
Of course it was a letter.
Cody closed his eyes for a second. “What did it say?”
She paused again, longer this time.
“It referenced your post,” Diane said finally. “The photo. The one with Reid.”
Cody’s chest tightened. He glanced at Reid, whose expression had gone completely still.
“What about it?”
“He said you made a mistake.” Diane’s voice had gone colder now, more precise. “That the man in the photo isn’t right for you. That you just don’t understand what you need yet. But he’s going to make you understand.”
A chill slid down Cody’s spine.
“He said that you’ll realize soon enough who you really belong to.”
Silence stretched out between them, thick and suffocating.
Cody swallowed. “That’s not all, is it?”
“No.”
Reid’s hand settled on the back of Cody’s neck, steadying. Grounding.
“My diary was open,” she said. “Turned to a specific page.”
Cody’s heart stuttered. “What page?”
Diane didn’t hesitate this time. “The one with Reid’s contact details.”
The room seemed to tilt.
“His name,” she went on, voice tight, “his company name, his number… and the address of the ranch.”
Cody’s breath left him in a rush.
Reid went completely still behind him.
“He didn’t take it,” Diane said. “He didn’t need to. He left it open, almost like wanted us to know.”
For a second, no one spoke. Then Reid’s voice, low and controlled:
“When did this happen?”
Cody put the phone on speaker without thinking.
“I’m not sure,” Diane said. “It could have been last night, or early hours this morning. I was here yesterday and everything was fine then.”
Cody dragged a hand through his hair and turned to look at Reid. “He found me,” he said, the words coming out hollow. “Reid—he found me and he was just here. Watching me.”
Diane went very quiet. “What?”
Reid’s voice cut in, sharp. “Cody just saw someone standing at the tree line. I tracked him, but I lost him at the road—he must have gotten into his vehicle and left.”
There was another silence then Diane swore softly. “Goddamn it. Well, I guess it’s pretty clear that this isn’t a coincidence.”
“No,” Reid said. “It’s not.”
Cody’s chest felt tight, like the walls were closing in around him.
“He’s escalating,” Reid said.
Diane exhaled slowly. “I’m calling this in. Pushing for full escalation with the police. This changes things.”
“It already has,” Cody said quietly.
“I call you back if I hear anything,” Diane said. “Stay safe.”
“Thanks.”
Diane hung up the call. For a moment, Cody just stood there, staring at nothing then Reid turned him, and placed his hands on Cody’s shoulders.
“Look at me.”
Cody did.
Reid’s eyes were burning amber now. Focused, controlled, and utterly dangerous.
“He got close once,” Reid said. “He won’t get that close again.”
Cody wanted to believe that. God, he wanted to.
But all he could think was that this man was out there somewhere planning his next move and what if next time he wasn’t satisfied with just looking?
What if he got it in his crazy head that Cody needed to be taught a lesson?
Despite the quiet warmth of having Reid at his side, Cody had never been as terrified.