Chapter Ten #2
“You know who I am,” the man said. His voice was quiet, almost gentle.
Cody couldn’t speak. Couldn’t move.
“I’m Daniel. I’ve been writing to you. A lot of letters. I know you got them.” He took a step closer. “I’ve been waiting a long time to meet you in person, Cody.”
“How did you get in here?” Cody’s voice came out thin and reedy, nothing like the voice that had just accepted an award in front of millions.
“I’ve been here for months. Working the venue. Cleaning, setting up, tearing down. Nobody notices the maintenance staff.” Daniel smiled, and it was the most terrifying thing Cody had ever seen—a smile of absolute conviction. “I needed a way to be close to you. I needed you to see me.”
“Daniel, listen to me—”
“No, you listen.” The gentleness evaporated. Daniel’s voice went hard, his grip tightening on the knife. “I saw the photograph you posted. With that man. He had his arm around you like he owned you.”
Cody’s stomach churned. The Instagram photo. Reid’s arm around his shoulders. Home. He hadn’t been referring to the ranch, he’d been talking about Reid. He was Cody’s home.
It had only been a few weeks ago, but it felt like a distant memory now. As he glanced at the knife, he wondered if he would ever see Reid again.
“I watched you tonight,” Daniel continued, moving closer.
“Up on that stage, thanking him. Telling the whole world he’s your home.
” His voice cracked. “I’m your home. Not him.
Me. I’ve followed your music since the beginning.
I know every lyric you’ve ever written. I know what they mean.
The loneliness, the searching—you were writing to me for me. You were always writing for me.”
“That’s not true,” Cody said, pressing back against the couch. “Daniel, I don’t know you. Those songs aren’t about—”
“Don’t lie to me!” Daniel’s composure shattered.
He lunged forward, grabbing Cody’s arm with his free hand, the knife coming up between them.
“I gave up everything for you. My job, my apartment, my whole life. I moved here to be near you. And you repay me by parading that animal around like he matters?”
Cody stared at the blade. It was a utility knife, the kind with a retractable blade. Small but sharp enough to do serious damage.
“Daniel,” Cody said, forcing his voice steady, pulling from the same calm he used before a concert, the performer in him taking over when the rest of him wanted to scream. “Please, put the knife down. We can talk about this calmly.”
“We’re past talking.” Daniel’s eyes were wet. “If I can’t have you, nobody can. Do you understand? Nobody.”
The door exploded inward.
Reid came through it like a force of nature, and Cody caught a flash of amber eyes before Reid’s body slammed into Daniel’s.
The knife clattered across the floor. Daniel hit the wall hard enough to crack the drywall and Reid had him pinned, one hand on his throat, the other twisting his arm behind his back at an angle that made Daniel scream.
“Don’t move,” Reid growled, and the sound barely seemed human. “Don’t breathe. Don’t look at him.”
Two members of Garrett’s team poured through the door seconds later. They took Daniel from Reid, forced him to the ground, then zip-tied his wrists behind his back. Daniel was sobbing, screaming Cody’s name.
“Cody, please! Tell them you love me! Tell them!”
Reid turned to Cody. His eyes were still burning gold, his chest heaving, his suit torn at the shoulder. He looked like something wild barely wearing a civilized skin.
“Are you hurt?” Reid’s voice was rough, barely controlled.
“No. He didn’t—no.”
Reid crossed the room in two strides and pulled Cody against him so hard it hurt. Cody could feel Reid shaking, tremors running through that massive frame, and he realized with a jolt that Reid was terrified. Not angry. Terrified.
“I shouldn’t have left,” Reid said into Cody’s hair. “Two minutes. I left you for two damn minutes.”
“You came back. You were fast enough.”
“If I’d been a second later—”
“But you weren’t.” Cody pulled back enough to take Reid’s face in his hands. “Look at me. I’m here. I’m okay. You saved me.”
Reid’s eyes slowly faded from gold back to hazel. He pressed his forehead against Cody’s, breathing hard. Behind them, Garrett’s team hauled Daniel out of the room. The sobbing faded down the corridor.
Diane appeared in the doorway, white-faced. “Is he—”
“He’s fine,” Reid said without looking away from Cody. “Get the car. We’re leaving.”
“The police will need a statement—”
“They can get it at the hotel. No more interviews. We’re leaving. Now.”
Diane didn’t even try to argue.
* * *
The ride back to the hotel was silent. Reid held Cody’s hand so tightly that Cody’s fingers went numb, but he didn’t pull away. He couldn’t. He needed the contact as badly as Reid did.
In the hotel suite, after the police had been by and taken Cody’s statement then left again, after Diane had confirmed that Daniel was in custody and being charged with attempted murder and stalking—after all of it—Cody stood in the bathroom staring at his reflection.
His suit was wrinkled. His hair was a mess. There was a red mark on his arm where Daniel had grabbed him.
He looked at the man in the mirror and saw someone who had stood on a stage and won the biggest award in country music, then nearly died in a green room forty minutes later.
He started laughing. Then crying. Then he wasn’t sure which.
Reid appeared behind him in the mirror, still in his torn suit, and wrapped his arms around Cody from behind. Cody turned into him, buried his face in Reid’s chest, and shook apart.
“It’s over,” Reid murmured. “He’s in custody. He can’t reach you again. It’s over.”
“I thought he was going to kill me.”
“He was never going to get the chance. I felt it through the bond. The second your fear spiked, I knew. That’s why I got there so fast.”
Cody looked up, tear-streaked. “You felt it?”
“Like a scream in my chest. I’ve never moved so damned fast in my life.” Reid’s thumb brushed a tear from Cody’s cheek. “The bond works, Cody. It works. I will always find you.”
Cody kissed him then—desperate and shaking and full of everything he couldn’t say out loud. Relief and terror and gratitude and love, so much love it felt like his ribs couldn’t hold it.
When they broke apart, Reid’s eyes were molten amber again.
“I need you,” Reid said, his voice low and raw. “I need to claim you. Again. I almost lost you tonight, and I can’t—I need to be close to you—inside you.”
Cody’s breath caught. Not from fear. From wanting.
“Yes,” he whispered. “Please, take me to bed.”