Chapter 32
My Angel Is Scared
Eli's Search History: how to track a burner phone used for threats
Emily
On the journey back I feel eyes on us again. I swear I’m being watched. But if I tell Eli, I’m scared he’ll lock me up again. That he’ll take away my freedom.
So I remain quiet despite the anxiety clawing at my insides.
Eli orders pizzas for dinner, deciding that cooking is too taxing tonight.
I head up to bed early, exhaustion pressing behind my eyelids after the whirlwind of emotions today has put me through.
My phone vibrates just as my mind begins to drift. Groggily, I slap my hand out in search of the device.
Anonymous: He can’t keep you safe from what’s coming.
I shoot up, blinking as if hoping I’m reading the words wrong. But they don’t change.
The phone vibrates again in my hands.
Anonymous: Don’t fight the inevitable. This is happening.
I drop it, my hand clutching my throat. Gasping, I reach for the water beside the bed and gulp it greedily. My hands tremble around the glass.
It’s Gia. It must be. She’s found me.
I won’t be able to keep this from Eli. I don’t even think I want to anymore. But I want one more day, before everything implodes.
So I keep quiet. Even when Eli slips into bed beside me and covers my back with his body, pulling me closer so I’m snug against him. Even then, I don’t tell him about the danger lurking right outside.
Sunday passes quickly. Neither of us leave the house, instead I spend the day reading. Surprisingly—or not—Eli does the same. He hums quietly as he takes in the story. It’s kind of adorable.
When darkness finally hits, I head upstairs to change.
As I’m pulling the curtains closed, I freeze. Because someone is staring directly up at me from below.
I can’t look away. Neither do they.
“What are you looking at?”
I jump, hand on my throat, turning to face Eli who’s leaning against the doorframe.
“I—” I flick my eyes outside again. “Nothing.”
Eli’s gaze narrows in. He strides towards me, scanning the street outside the window. “What did you see?”
“It’s really nothing—”
“Don’t lie to me, Angel.”
I stare out at the now empty street. “I thought I saw someone out there. Looking up at me.”
Eli tenses. “Gia?”
“I don’t know. Maybe?”
My phone vibrates.
Anonymous: I see you.
My chin wobbles. My eyes moisten.
Eli pulls the phone from my clutches and scans the text. Then he reads the rest. With each second that passes, his eyes grow darker, his jaw tightening so hard a muscle in it pops.
Eli
All week I’ve been trying to track Emily’s ex, Gianna. I didn’t tell her that's what I was doing. She assumed I was working on my laptop, but I was doing research—obsessive, frustratingly unproductive research. Unfortunately, my computer skills aren’t high-tech enough to find her exact location.
“Why didn’t you tell me about the texts straight away?” I ask, tension radiating through my shoulders.
I didn’t think to check the spyware on her phone. I assumed she’d come to me if she got any more texts. That’s a mistake I shouldn’t have made.
Emily looks at me with wide, watery, blinking eyes. “I didn’t want to worry you.” She swallows. “And I was scared you’d lock me up again.”
Fuck.
My angel is scared of me.
Maybe not of who I am.
But of what I might do.
I take a slow breath. “What else have you kept from me?”
She trembles. I pull her into my arms. She stays stiff for a second before finally softening, moulding against me.
“I thought someone was following me home from work on Friday.”
“On the tube?”
She nods. “And when we were walking together.”
I hold her face, forcing her eyes to mine. “From now on, you tell me whenever you get that feeling again. No matter how silly it feels.”
Tears glisten. “I don’t want Gia to hurt me.”
“She won’t,” I say, gentler but still firm in my conviction. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
But she’s still trembling. Terrified. And every instinct in me goes feral at the sight.
I let her go only long enough to grab my laptop and pull her down next to me.
Nothing. Whoever is watching knows where my cameras are.
Her phone vibrates again.
It’s a picture of our house.
Lights on. Curtains open. Emily staring out the upstairs window, my shadow behind her.
My blood ices.
“Pack a bag. We’re not staying here tonight.”
She obeys without argument, stuffing belongings into a rucksack.
I hate that she didn’t trust me enough to tell me right away—almost as much as I hate the fear in her eyes.
But that’s on me.
And I’ll fucking fix it.
We’re out the door within minutes. I take the bike—harder to follow, easier to disappear.
I know exactly where to take her. I don’t ask permission; they won’t turn her away. And I doubt Gia knows they exist.
I slam the bike to a stop, march up the drive, and bang on the door.
It swings open to a tangle of pink hair and a cockapoo that launches at my feet.
Carina blinks. “What are you doing here?”
Emily steps out from behind me. I didn’t tell her where we were going, but her whole body drops with relief when she sees Carina. Then she’s wrapped around her, crying into her shoulder.
Carina shoots me a glare sharp enough to slice skin. “What did you do?”
I lift my hands. “Nothing. We just need somewhere to stay tonight.”
She murmurs something to Emily, whose head bobs up and down at whatever she said. Carina guides her inside with an arm around her. The door stays open—my invitation.
Inside is aggressively pink, softened by splashes of grey.
Nate’s already on his feet, eyes narrowed. “Someone better start talking before I get stabby.”
I open my mouth, but Emily beats me to it. She tells them everything—Gianna, the stalking, the texts. Everything she didn’t tell me.
Carina whistles. “Damn. Two stalkers?”
“Two?” I echo.
She rolls her eyes. “What the fuck do you think you are?”
…Fair.
After we fill them in, Carina leads us upstairs.
“You can sleep in here,” she says, opening the guest room. Cosy. Neutral. Not pink.
I step to follow Emily in, but Carina plants a hand on my chest. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“To get ready for bed?” Obviously.
“It’s fine,” Emily murmurs. “He can sleep in here with me.”
Carina hesitates, still blocking my way. “Are you sure?”
Emily nods through a yawn. “Yeah. He’d just sneak in later anyway.”
She knows me too well.
I grin as Carina finally lets me pass.
Emily disappears into the bathroom while I take in the room—and maybe snoop a little. She returns and sinks onto the bed, knees drawn in, still looking small and fragile.
“Angel,” I say, crouching in front of her.
She lifts her eyes.
“I think we need to escalate.”
Her breath hitches. “How?”
“Do you trust me?”
Silence stretches—an eternity in a few seconds.
Then she exhales. “Yeah. I trust you.”
I close my eyes, savouring it. When I open them, she’s still watching me.
“Good,” I murmur, squeezing her thigh. “Because I have a plan.”